Chapter 5 #2
Ani heard Sanan’s voice behind her. “Shh, let’s let them work it out.” She glanced back to see Sanan with a hand on Chris’s forearm. Well, not so shy anymore.
As twigs crunched under her boots, she realized it might be grimy in the shed and she would die if she got her coat dirty.
So when she approached a bench, she swept off her coat and carefully folded it.
Then, not wanting it to touch the bench, either, she set down her tote bag and placed her coat atop it.
“Getting warm?” Raffi asked.
“Don’t want your cobwebbed shed to get my coat dirty.”
“For your information, it is spick-and-span—it’s actually quite new. But don’t let me talk you out of it.”
They passed by two guys carrying a barrel. Raffi stepped up to them and gave each that arm wrestling slap hug. “Jerry, Mike, my guys,” he said, and they gave him friendly smiles.
“Cold one today, chief,” the guy named Jerry said.
“But not frosty, so that’s good for the grapes, right?”
“You got it.”
The men walked on. Ani felt a shiver from the cold Jerry mentioned.
“Didn’t you say it was right back here?” she asked.
“Nah, never said that,” Raffi said, smiling. “Aren’t you glad I came with you, though?”
“You’re going to ax-murder me back here, aren’t you?”
Raffi laughed loudly, throwing his head back the way he had with Chris. “I wouldn’t use an ax. Do I look like a brute?”
“I’ll have you know,” Ani said, letting a smile peek out, “I am very well loved, and people will come to find me and exact their revenge.”
She wasn’t sure if the latter was true, but she did think, in the moment, of her parents and sister. Often pains in the ass, but always out of love.
“I’m sure you are, I’m sure you are,” Raffi said softly.
Okay…He sounded sincere. She filed away yet another piece of the Raffi enigma.
Finally, they reached the shed, which was fairly large and, from the outside at least, looked well maintained. Raffi entered a key code before opening the door and holding it open for her. “Opened doors for her,” Ani heard her sister say, remembering the Raffi playbook.
In response to the memory, Ani put her hand on the door and declared, “I got it.” Raffi shrugged and walked in first.
As he had promised, the shed was not a cobwebbed mess but meticulously organized and sparkling clean. She wondered if this was Raffi’s doing or his staff’s.
“Whatever you do, don’t let the door shut,” he said, right as a mouse darted out from behind a shelf, and Ani, despite her intentions not to be that girl, screamed—but then so did Raffi, a smaller, softer shriek.
When the mouse ran toward them, Ani fled to Raffi’s direction and accidentally rammed into him.
Raffi stumbled back and caught her before they both fell.
The heavy door slammed shut, and the mouse ran out of sight.
Ani caught her breath, her heart still racing, and she could feel Raffi doing the same against her. For a moment, she was acutely aware of how close they were—close enough that his windswept-desert scent was stronger now, while the solid weight of his arms wrapped around her. Her cheeks burned.
“Um, sorry about that,” Raffi said, stepping back quickly, releasing his hold. “That was—” But he seemed to have lost his words, and he was turning red, which was almost endearing, if she didn’t know better.
Ani gathered as much composure as she could scrounge, then asked, “So, what happens when the door shuts?”
He hesitated, meeting her eyes. Then he finally spoke. “It locks us in,” he said quietly.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Raffi shrugged. “Sadly not. It’s a new shed, and it came with this dumb locking mechanism that we haven’t had time to change yet. It’s fine. We can just call someone to get us.”
Then, for some reason, he looked toward Ani expectantly.
“So go ahead,” Ani said.
“I left my phone in the office.”
Ani’s heart began to race. “Do you operate like it’s 1980? A normal person always has their phone with them. It’s called a mobile!”
He crossed his arms. “Well, where’s yours then?”
“In my bag, on that bench, remember?” She began to pace. “Along with my water and snacks and all the emergency supplies a person could need. Oh shit, oh shit.”
“Don’t panic,” Raffi said slowly, although his voice had lost some of its ease. “Sanan and Chris know we’re here. They’ll come soon enough.”
Ani wasn’t convinced. She strode to the door and pounded on it with her fist, the sound echoing loudly in the confined space. “Hello? Is anyone out there? Help!” She pressed her ear to the door, listening for footsteps or voices, but there was only silence.
“We’re near the edge of the property—”
“I know, I walked over with you,” Ani cut in.
Then she pulled at the door handle, confirmed that it was indeed locked, and let out a huge sigh.
“Can’t believe I took off my damn coat,” she muttered.
“Can’t believe I screamed at the sight of a mouse,” he mumbled, and she felt herself smiling despite her anxieties. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?” he said with levity. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
Right. His reputation. Well, she didn’t have to talk to him. She’d act like he was part of the shelving.
Ani found a low round barrel; sat on it, hugging herself; and turned away from Raffi. She started to feel ice-cold, the type of chill that seeped into her bones and made her achy and sick. It was frigid in here. Technically above freezing, but only just.
Her makeshift chair was icy against her thighs, and an actual shiver released itself along her body. Ani closed her eyes and concentrated on being warm. A sandy beach in the tropics, rays penetrating her skin. Closing all the doors in a hot car.
There was some shuffling of feet and some moving around of objects on the shelves behind her. Raffi was no doubt grabbing the chalk.
Then, suddenly, she felt warmth envelop her shoulders and neck and she jumped the tiniest bit as her eyes flicked open. It was fabric, heavy and comforting. Smelling of verdant, rain-soaked herbs. Raffi had draped his coat over her shoulders.
Ani turned toward him and glanced up, half suspicious, half grateful. The coat was like a heated blanket, thawing her insides.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Of course,” he said.
Then, when she didn’t turn away, he added, “Don’t want your family to sue us if you drop dead here.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, and could feel a smile in her voice.
“Seriously, you okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’m good now.”
She turned back around to face the door, thinking that the coat smelled way too decadent.
She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale.
Spiced air. Rich blue, green, browns. It didn’t mean anything that this was possibly the best scent she’d ever encountered in her life. She was just a perfume aficionado.
“So. What do you like to do for fun?” Raffi asked, out of the blue.
Ani turned to face him and wanted to respond, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” but his expression seemed earnest. He was asking her about herself. She also detected a subtle shiver rattle his shoulders. He had just given her his coat.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Just like me, she couldn’t help but think. “Hang out with my friends. Watch movies, the kind I’m sure you’d hate.”
“You’re sure I’d hate them?” Raffi questioned, the beginning of a smile starting.
She pulled the coat tighter around her body, felt the soft fabric against her fingers as they pinched it shut.
“You know, frilly romantic stuff. Gallant men. Hijinks. Crosses over into my line of work, too, minus the hijinks. I guess most of what I do for fun relates to work. I brush up on flower arranging, photo editing, that kind of thing. I love making things beautiful for other people. I get to design a little corner of their lives that’s just joy.
I’m sure that sounds—well, whatever.” Then, realizing she was talking too much, too fast—was she nervous? —she decided to change the subject.
Ani nodded toward him. “What about you? Is that outfit some kind of uniform you read about on a pickup artist forum?”
He seemed to always be dressed nicely. Two for two now.
She was curious about why, and her question, although slightly mean, made sense in her mind.
Also, if he was a PUA, she wanted to know for sure right off the bat.
Any heady feelings coming her way from his excellent taste in cologne and sport coats would be quashed immediately.
He tilted his head. “What’s a pickup artist forum? Is that like a mixed-media art thing? Finding trash on the streets or whatever?” He gazed skyward, considering. “But why would they wear suits?”
His confusion immediately made her feel guilty for asking.
“You don’t spend a lot of time online, do you?”
“Not really. Unless I have to do something for work.”
“Lucky.” She liked that; it was a healthy practice that she wished she could do more often. Unplug. Live in the moment.
“As for the suits—it’s the way I want to look. I enjoy their feel. The seriousness of them. The subtle ways you can dress them up or down. I think I’m—I don’t know—awkward and gangly in shorts and a tee. Doesn’t feel like me.”
Was that…a hint of insecurity? The idea of Raffi feeling awkward, gangly, and anything less than completely sure of himself didn’t square with the image she’d built in her head: the untouchable, perpetually smug son of a maybe mobster, who seemed to glide through life like he owned it.
“So what do you do at the beach?” Ani asked.
Raffi stared at her and said with all seriousness, “I wear a full suit and then rip it off with one hand, revealing a neon-orange Speedo.”
Despite herself, Ani laughed. There was something disarming about the way he leaned into the absurdity of his own image. “Why is that somehow so easy to visualize?”
Raffi caught her eye and smiled in complicity with her, sharing their joke.
“Well, you wear them well,” Ani said, feeling like giving him a sincere compliment.
The edges of his smile softened, and for a moment, he looked at her like he wasn’t sure if she was teasing him or being serious. His gaze dropped to the floor before flicking back up to hers. Eyes the color of sun-warmed cedar, dark and calm.
“Thank you.”
Then he fidgeted with a button on his cuff, not catching her eyes. “I know the whole suit getup is kind of formal—not as strange as an orange Speedo—but they also just—” He paused. Shrugged. “I guess they make me feel stronger. Almost…protected.”
Ani blinked, caught off guard. She didn’t know what to say. It felt like he’d handed her a piece of himself, fragile and unguarded, and she wasn’t sure where to put it. The air between them shifted, heavier now.
Was this an opening? The weight of the moment made her think that maybe he wanted to be asked. The question hovered on the tip of her tongue.
She took a breath and asked, her voice softer than she intended, “Protected from what?”
For a moment, Raffi just looked at her, his expression unreadable. Her heart sprinted, the audacity in asking that question catching up to her, but before he could answer, a loud knock on the window shattered the moment.
They both jerked toward the sound, their shared stillness broken.
“You guys okay in there?” Chris’s muffled voice asked from outside.
And that was it.
Raffi blinked, his mask of coolness sliding back into place as if it had never slipped. “We’re good,” he called back, his tone light and easy. “Definitely no screaming about a mouse, all very normal.”
Even as she heard the handle turning, Ani felt oddly unsteady, like she’d been yanked back from the precipice of something enticing.
When the door opened, Ani should have felt nothing but relief about being rescued from the mouse-ridden murder shed.
But once they were outside and she approached the bench holding her belongings, Ani hesitated a moment longer than she should have when it was time to take off the coat and hand it back to Raffi.
The four of them spent another half hour or so finalizing plans, which went surprisingly smoothly. As Ani and Sanan walked back to their car across ?’s parking lot, Ani received a text. It was from Kami. Ani gulped.
She, Sanan, Kami, and Grace had been emailing back and forth about to-dos, and Ani had sent out a very professional plan for them, trying her best to make everything as impersonal as possible.
She also rejoiced when she got her first check for five thousand dollars, which was a nice reminder of why exactly she was doing this.
But so far, their communications had been only emails, no texts.
“One sec, Sanan, got to read this,” Ani said, hoping not to be rude as she was sure she was about to disappear into her own world.
Ani tapped to read it.
Hey girl! So I’m having my first wedding dress try-on this Friday at Belle Bridal. Would loooooooove if you could come and give me your expert advice. I trust you more than Mom and Galia tbh. You know what I mean! Can you come? Pleeeeease? At noon. xx
Ani stared at the last letters of the text. Ex. Ex. That’s exactly right, Kami, she thought angrily. I am your ex. Only once over, but thanks for the reminder. Kami was inviting her to something as personal as wedding dress shopping? This felt wrong. So wrong.
And yet Ani could not resist the pull of Kami, even after so long.
Part of her wanted to see Kami again, to bask in the warmth of her attention, to feel that rush of being the person Kami trusted most. But another part of her—the part that had spent months, years, untangling herself from the aftermath of their breakup—knew better. This was a terrible idea.
Not to mention the family factor. Would Kami’s mom even want her there? They always got along, and she adored Kami’s sister, Galia, especially, but how utterly awkward. She could already picture the polite but strained smiles.
She sighed, her thumb hovering over the screen. She knew she should say no. But she was the wedding planner—the wedding planner who desperately had to keep her clients happy. And her bride, ex or no ex, needed her.
Sure, I’ll be there, she typed.
When she pulled away from the winery, she spotted Raffi at the doors of the villa. He raised his hand in a small wave, and Ani felt a strange tug at the bottom of her stomach as she remembered the weight of his coat and the charged air between them not an hour ago. Then she waved back.