Page 15 of On the Rocks

I grumbled. I’d brought Cora up in the hopes of finding a sympathetic ear. But Maggie didn’t beat around the bush. She went right in for the kill.

“I always liked Cora,” Dad said. “I think she was my favorite of your girlfriends.”

“Girlfriend!” Maggie cried, unnervingly delighted. “Oh, this is an ex? That definitely makes things more interesting.”

“An ex from like a million years ago,” I clarified. “We were practically kids.” High school exes shouldn’t even count as exes. It’s not like we’d had any idea what we were doing with our lives at that point.

“But this totally changes the dynamic,” Maggie said, holstering her hammer in the toolbelt around her waist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You. Trying to buy your ex-girlfriend.”

“I wasn’t trying to buy her!” I insisted. “I was trying to make her an offer to work with Elixir. Which she turned down. Repeatedly. Hence trying to give her more money, to make the offer more enticing.”

“And did she say yes?”

“Eventually,” I muttered. “After yelling at me again.” I couldn’t believe she finally accepted. I wasn’t even sure I wanted her on the job.No, that wasn’t true. I did. Cora was the right person for Elixir Free. I just wished she’d kept to her Masked Mixer disguise. This would have been so much easier if I didn’t know who she was—if I didn’t remember what it was like to be with her.

I slumped down on a stool.

How could I not have recognized her that night? The dark red hair, softly curled. The freckles. Those full, pouty lips. She was still the girl from high school, but she’d grown upverywell. She’d certainly grown into her curves. I swallowed hard, remembering the way that dress hugged her hips and the way her cleavage had practically begged for my attention. God, why did she have to look that good after all this time?

“Cora? Yell at you?” Dad was saying as I banished those thoughts. “There’s no way. I mean, she was always a little spirited. Maybe we could even call her feisty. But I can’t imagine her yelling at you.” He shook his head like that was a laughable concept. “She did like to tease you like nobody’s business though.”

I frowned. Part of me couldn’t believe he remembered that. It wasn’t like he’d been around much to see us together. Dad had been putting in long hours at the paper mill back then—to the point where it ruined his marriage with my mom. He was a good man, and I know he’d tried his best to be a good husband and father, but it’s hard to make a relationship work when there was only one person around.

“Cora might have been sweet when she was sixteen,” I told him. “But trust me, she’s not that kid anymore. She grew up into someone completely obnoxious.”

Maggie tutted.

“Do you think she’s as pretty as you did back then?” Dad asked, a teasing smile on his face.

I turned away, grumbling. The last thing I wanted to do was admit Cora had grown up to be twice as gorgeous. And now I was going to have to endure being around her every day. But I knew it was the right move for Elixir, so I was just going to have to stuff the past away.

“She’s online, you said?” Maggie asked. “What’s her handle?”

“Masked Mixer,” I said.

“Masked…Mixer…” she repeated. “Oh, here she is.”

I looked up to find Maggie leaning against the bar, watching one of Cora’s videos on her phone. Dad walked up next to her to watch, too, leaning in so close they were practically cheek to cheek.

“Looks like she makes a mean drink,” Maggie said. “I could use one of those right now.”

“I’ve gotta get going,” I said. I had zero interest in hanging around while Dad reminisced fondly, and the two of them watched Cora mix drinks. “Good luck with the light fixture.”

Dad raised his hand in farewell, hardly paying attention. I headed for the door and out onto the street, hurrying down the block to find my driver when a familiar head of red hair darted out of an electronics store and right into my path.

Oh, Jesus Christ, not again!

Cora

“Oomph,” I said as I lost my breath. It felt like I’d just run into a brick wall. I glanced up and my mood soured immediately. It was an Aiden-shaped brick wall.

Of-fucking-course it was.

I’d popped into my favorite electronics store after the lunch debacle—still trying to wrap my head around the fact I’d just agreed to work with Aiden’s company—to replace my tripod that broke earlier this morning. And there Aiden was, looming over me like an omen of misfortune. I was starting to think I was cursed.

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