Page 135 of Manhattan Bossholes

He smirked. “Have I ruffled your feathers, Zelda?”

I crossed my arms. “I would think that the Cocktail King would know there’s no simple syrup in the drink.”

“I can emphatically confirm that there is.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“That’s the drink I ordered,” he insisted. “And that’s how it came. So I think I know what I’m talking about.”

“Maybe they sweetened it up for you,” I suggested. “Probably thought you couldn’t handle the real thing.”

“That is the real thing.”

“It’s definitely not.” If anyone was going to know about a literary-themed cocktail, it was me. “The drink reflects Hemingway’s preference for less sweet cocktails and his fondness for Caribbean rum.”

“Okay,” Allie cut in. “There’s a simple way to figure this out. What’s it called again?”

“The Hemingway Daiquiri,” I said at the same time Aiden said, “Papa Doble.”

Phones appeared as everyone around us started Googling at once. I stared Aiden down.

“Okay, wait, I found something,” Dot said. “It says the Hemingway Daiquiri is traditionally less sweet compared to other daiquiris, reflecting Ernest Hemingway’s personal taste for more tart and strong flavors.”

“Yeah,” Javeed said. “This site says the maraschino liqueur and fresh fruit juices provide sweetness and complexity, so adding simple syrup is unnecessary.”

“See?” I said, nodding at Aiden. “You’re ruining a perfectly good drink with your totally unneeded simple syrup.”

“But,” Allie said, looking down at her own phone, “this site says the Hemingway Daiquiri is often made with simple syrup nowadays. That contemporary palates prefer a slightly sweeter cocktail. Although it’s not part of the traditional recipes, it is an accepted practice in modern versions.”

“See?” Aiden echoed, looking smug. “Maybe you need to catch up with modern times.”

“I try not to ruin things from the past that are perfectly good the way they are,” I shot back.

His gaze narrowed, but before he could respond, Allie said, “If you ask me, it looks like you’re both right in a way. It all boils down to personal taste.”

“I think what’s more impressive is that you both knew about this random obscure cocktail,” Dominic said, shaking his head.

“I need to test this out,” Javeed said. “Anyone up for a little post-work drink?”

I held Aiden’s gaze. Okay, maybe this was technically a win for both of us, but I still thought he was ruining a perfectly good drink. But that shouldn’t surprise me.

He had a habit of ruining perfectly good things.

6

AIDEN

@TrentSaunders Happy birthday, bro

@AidenC Make sure you bring a bottle with that birthday wish

“You’re bringing the present, right?”

“What present?” I asked as I breezed through Long Island in my Ferrari, Dominic on speaker phone as he made his own drive in. I’d always liked the North Shore, especially Jamesport, where Nana Dee lived. I didn’t make it over here as often as I would have liked, but to celebrate Trent’s birthday and spend some time with my favorite people in the world, it was worth the effort. When we were younger, we used to have Trent’s birthday lunch at Dee’s, then we’d all go out and get hammered. Now that we’d outgrown the wildness of our twenties, lunch was really the main event. “Our presence is his present.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He sounded exasperated.

I laughed. “Don’t panic. I grabbed the bottle you forgot on my desk before I left the office yesterday.”