Page 21 of Cocky Choices: Zoe Cocker

“Fiddlesticks.”

“It’s true, dear.”

Furious, with his pride bruised, he leans forward, “The Cockers may have prominent members but none of them — not one! — has the wealth of the Astors.”

“Ethan Cocker, the software genius,” Mother reminds him. “Remember we read the article in Time about him?”

I lean back in my chair, aware I need to read more about contemporary society. I had no idea about this famous Cocker. The others are more obvious — the quarterback and the rockstar. The politicians, too, now that I’m thinking about it. “How is Ethan Cocker related to Zoe?”

Mother looks at me, “I don’t know, dear.”

“Sibling?”

“No, not siblings. He had two, one of which is the Atlanta quarterback. I can’t remember the name of his sister but it wasn’t Zoe. I was going to name our daughter Zoe if we had another child so that name always stands out to me. Oh, yes! Emma! That was it.”

“I’ll bet I’m richer than Ethan Cocker,” my father grumbles, pushing away his small plate.

I stare at him, finding his boast boring, a repetition of a proclamation he’s given of the Astor wealth against countless families over the years. Money means everything to him. I would bet all of it that any one of those families is happierthan ours. Deciding to poke the tiger I lazily announce, “I’m not just marrying into a family. I love Zoe for who she is, not for what her family represents. However, if they’re more loving than ours, which wouldn’t be a stretch, then I’mall formarrying into theirs.”

Silence envelops us, my parents exchanging glances of unspoken words which seethe between them. I brace myself for their reaction.

Dad chuckles from a dark place. “Love? You love her, you say? Is it love or your trust fund that made you propose to someone you just met?”

I blink. “How did you know?—”

“—You think I don’t have eyes in the hotel watching your every move?”

“Why would you have?” I snap.

“Ever since you stopped drinking I’ve been watchingveryclosely to make sure you don’t do more to embarrass my brand.”

Sneering, I defend myself, “So they found me asleep in front of one of your buildings! So what?!”

“Passed out! That’s the only one that made the news! Clothes torn from a fight! Bruised! You looked like a beggar, and you’re an Astor! How many times did I have to pay for what you broke when you trashed hotels rooms? How many times did I have to pay off staff so they wouldn’t take money for leaking it to gossip columns? You think I want my son’s tantrums all over Page Six?”

Mother interjects, “Let’s just hope the Cockers don’t read that rag.”

“Zoe has agreed to marry me,” I growl. “It’s done.”

ELEVEN

Tom

Edison bulb twinkle lights paint the patio of The Vortex with a warm, golden hue, air laced with the rich aromas of delicious burgers, night blooming jasmine, and the sound of laughter from nearby tables. In the table overlooking the street I sit across from Elena, my sister, who looks perfectly at home, as she does everywhere she goes, her brown hair catching the light and framing her face.

“Okay, so how long are you really staying this time?” I ask, taking a sip of iced tea. The coolness hits my throat just right, and I watch her over the rim of my glass.

Elena leans back in her chair, a playful smirk on her lips. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle me for more than a weekend?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “You always know how to make it interesting. But seriously, I’ve got work, and I can’t play host forever.”

“Seriously?”

“No,” I laugh, unable to hold up the lie. “You’re welcome as long as you want. I want you here, you know that. But I do want to know how long because last time I expected you for longer and when you left, I was bummed.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Fine, I’ll be here for a week, maybe two. I need some proper Southern food and a break from the chaos of my dating life.”

“Chaos is an understatement,” I reply, thinking of the stories she’s told me. “You’re welcome anytime, but I hope you plan on doing more than just eating. We should explore the city a bit.”

---