Cocoa Remix

Chapter One: The Bitter Sting of Rejection

“I’m sorry, Ava.” James’s voice echoed in Avery’s mind as she fled the office right as the clock struck five. 

“I just started seeing someone.”

Avery Marks was a strong, independent woman who definitely did not need a date for Valentine’s Day. There was very little she needed, really. She was successful at her job, had her own condo, and lived a good life - a comfortable life. Despite working ridiculous overtime, she even had time for hobbies, baking being chief among them. Unfortunately, having it all didn’t include having a man. Men found her success, and her height - which was nearly five foot ten - just a touch intimidating.

Maybe she didn’t need a date for Valentine’s Day, but... well, she kind of wanted one. She’d hoped against hope that James would be that date; her sales partner, good friend and crush of the past several years. She’d been nursing the small flame of her affections so long that her other friends despaired of her ever getting the courage to flout workplace propriety and get on with the business of getting down with James. Now, she’d missed her shot, and she felt as if her heart might burn away to ash.

Feeling raw, and with the bitter taste of defeat in her mouth, Avery looked at the box of chocolates clutched in her hand. She’d spent hours crafting those beautiful, rich confections for James. Now they were just an embarrassing sign of her failure, and a mark of wasted time and effort. She huffed, and tossed the box unceremoniously into a trash can before stalking down the city sidewalk in the direction of the nearest subway entrance. She stumbled a bit over a crack in the sidewalk, and cursed under her breath - both at the cracked and broken state of the concrete, which felt like an all too on the nose metaphor for the current state of her heart, and the scuff that her patent leather heel now bore.

“Damn it,” she muttered, gritting her teeth against the rising tide of frustration that threatened to overtake her.

In spite of everything, and even with the knowledge that Valentine’s Day was a commercialized sham, she still felt pathetic at spending another one on her own. In her mid-thirties, aware that her looks would soon begin to fade - at least by society’s fickle standards - she felt the pressure to find someone to spend her life with before it was ‘too late.’ Whatever that meant.

While she was tall, or statuesque as her Auntine liked to say, she didn’t think she was a bad looking woman. She long, pin straight jet black hair, faintly pink cupid’s bow lips, and deep brown almond shaped eyes. She’d been a dancer in her younger years, and her body still held on to the lithe build of her youth - though she’d gained some softness in her hips and breasts. Her arms and legs were well defined, toned from her morning runs and occasionally drop in yoga classes. She worked hard, and she trained hard. If only she could find someone who wanted to play hard with her, too.

Her feet having found their way down the stairs and to the appropriate subway platform on their own, Avery waited patiently for her newly arrived train to offload before stepping lightly over the gap. With her first bit of luck on a long, disappointing day, she managed to snag one of the few open seats, and settled in for the short ride to her midtown condo building. 

Avery idly scrolled through recipes on her phone as the dark, brick-lined passages flickered past the train’s windows to the tune of loud clacks and rumbling. She was trying to decide if she wanted to commit to her annual Valentine’s Day tradition of getting drunk on cheap champagne while trying to make a devilishly complicated chocolate or pastry, when an ad for a chocolate shop slowed her scroll. The ad was brief, but sensual, depicting the creation of gorgeous chocolates that oozed with sinful goodness - and caramel. Caramel that glistened with little flecks of golden hazelnut. At the end of the short ad, the name and contact information for the chocolate shop appeared - and she was pleased to see that it was close to where she lived. Walking distance, even.

The fates, or perhaps their search engine overlords who were surely tracking her every search inquiry, had spoken. Why make something when she could just treat herself? It’s not like anyone else was going to do it, and she wasn’t really in the mood to try and make something herself. After having spent most of the evening before slaving away for that ungrateful bastard, she deserved to spend an evening drowning her sorrows in frothy pink bubbles and decadent truffles. All right, maybe that was unfair. James wasn’t a bad guy, and she couldn’t expect him to just be available whenever she was - though that thought only made her more depressed. This was her own damn fault. If only she’d said something sooner, maybe things would have ended up different.

Avery sighed, and clambered out of the train as it came to her stop. She tried, as always, to go with the flow of other departing passengers, but still found herself being buffeted back by oncoming passengers who didn’t have the patience, or manners, to wait for the car to offload first. This might have been a difficult battle for a weak willed woman, but Avery was a fighter, and she wasn’t afraid to use her sharp elbows to ensure that she could get off at the right stop.

She hurried up the stairs, her pointy black high heels clacking noisily as she went, adding to the din of humanity that was ascending to the street level of midtown Darcingtowne. As far as cities went, Darcingtowne had the being both old and modern; overwhelmingly large but at the same time - depending on your neighborhood - intimate and cozy. It was a city of contrasts, which is why Avery loved it so much. It felt like her, and if felt like home.

Even after living there her entire life, she still found new and fascinating things to see when she had the time to look - like this Cocoa Remix place that her mapping app was currently directing her to. She took a wrong turn, directions never having been her forte, but eventually found herself standing in front of a squat brick building sat most amusingly between two towering skyscrapers. It looked like it had been there forever, and at the same time like it had been plopped down in what space remained between the two neighboring behemoths.

The storefront itself was unassuming. There was one large picture window which featured several boxes of chocolate, opened for display, along with floral arrangements and a velvety brown curtain. You couldn’t actually see inside the shop without going inside. As Avery approached the door, she read the sign painted onto the door’s rectangular glass window in gold and black lettering, “Cocoa Remix, Est...”

Avery smiled, and walked inside. Had she not been so excited at the thought of fancy, overpriced chocolates, she might have taken the time to ask herself what the sign meant by ‘Est…’ Established when, exactly?

The smell that greeted our heroine as she entered Cocoa Remix was one of sheer bliss. The intermingled scents of toffee, caramel, fruit liqueur, sugar, spice and of course chocolate, invaded her senses. She was nearly blinded by the overwhelming sensory overload, even though the shop had relatively warm, moody lighting. She barely registered the soft tinkling of the bell that jingled as she stepped inside, though it came to her as the door shut softly behind her, causing the bell to chime again.

Alerted by the sound of the bell, a young man popped his head up and looked about. He was standing at a back counter, and had been bent low over a tray of truffles. His eyes lit up when they settled on the newcomer, and he set aside the sifter of powdered cocoa that he’d been using, and smiled warmly as he approached the counter.

“Hello!” the young man said.  He was maybe in his mid twenties, with long brown hair that had been pulled back and settled into a knitted hair net. “Welcome to Cocoa Remix. What can I do for a lovely lady such as yourself?”

His face was scruffy with bristling stubble, and he had the relaxed air of a bohemian, though the tattoos she could see peeking out from the edges of his rolled up sleeves seemed to indicate a less than happy hippy dippy background. He had a medium build, but was tall - tall enough for Avery to wear heels and not get strange looks. If she’d been in any state, Avery might have considered flirting, but now she was distracted by the huge display case full of divine looking delights.

“Where do I even start?” she whispered, her eyes wide with wonder. 

The young man chuckled, and let her swoon over the offerings at hand. Soon, a batch of chocolate covered cherries caught her eye, and she smiled wistfully. “There. I’ll start with two of those, please…”

It was only after she realized she’d ordered over two hundred dollars in chocolate that she finally gained the willpower to stop adding on. Refusing to let herself feel bad about the three large, full boxes of chocolates, Avery sidled over to the cash register at the far end of the counter, and beamed up at the chocolatier.

Her expression faded somewhat when he asked, “Are these for you and a special someone?”

“Ah, well…” Avery said, the shadow of judgement souring her mood, though she knew the young man was only making polite conversation. “No. I don’t have anyone.”

“I’m surprised… a beautiful woman like you really doesn’t have anyone special in their life?” he replied, giving her a slightly sad frown, eyebrows drawn together.

Avery hated that look. The pity in his eyes was just plain infuriating. 

She finished swiping her card, then ground out in a clipped tone of tightly leashed anger, “I had someone special, and I was a coward ok. I f****d up. He’s got someone else, and I missed my chance. If I could do it all over again, I would. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No, not at all.” the chocolatier said, his expression shifting as he tilted his head to an even more piteous look. Then, he brightened slightly as an idea came to him, and he continued, “Just a moment, Miss.”

He picked up a pair of tongs and lifted a glass bell jar from a display pedestal on the back counter that Avery hadn’t noticed before. He hesitated a moment, then selected a rather delicate looking truffle with a glittering pink pearl on top, and slid it into a small paper bag. 

The chocolatier shut the bag with a beautiful clip - a glass-like flower with trailing petals and bells that chimed faintly as he held it out to her.

“Please, accept this gift.” he said, eyes cast down in a shy, dare she say sweet, manner. “I hope it grants your wish.”

Avery gave the man an odd look that matched his bizarre words, but accepted the bag anyway - her desire for the mystery chocolate winning out over both her confusion and her pride. It was kind of nice being on the receiving end of a Valentine’s day gift, even if it was one given out of pity. 

“Thank you.” she said simply, before gathering her boxes of chocolate and leaving.

“You’re welcome! Please come again.” the chocolatier said, looking up to give her a gentle smile and a wave as she left.