Chapter 10 #2
Riley, seemingly smashed on free wine and high on her favorite music, bounded over to Raffi, grabbed his face in both hands, and kissed him on the cheek, which was a very Riley thing to do.
Always physically lovey-dovey after a few drinks.
But today, the force of her affection caught Raffi by surprise and bumped him in a way that the entire contents of his Incredible Hulk–sized cabernet sauvignon erupted from his glass and soaked Ani’s very white dress.
Ani stared down at the damage. It was worse than the matcha latte she had pegged him with, and Raffi felt so horrible, he did the first thing he could think of, which was grab a flimsy napkin off the counter and rush to blot the stain.
He turned back toward Ani while Riley caught up and gasped at the entire display, saying a string of words he couldn’t quite hear, and he must have been a little tipsier than he thought, because his hand headed straight for the heart of the stain, on Ani’s chest. He reached for the stain, nearly at his target, when—oh, no—the napkin slipped right out of his grasp and his hand landed on something soft and warm and oh my God that was a boob. Hand on the boob.
Raffi caught Ani’s eye, her sheer horror, and he removed his hand as immediately as the apologies began to flow.
But he shut up as soon as Ani’s mouth opened and she started to speak. “This was…This was…”
This was what? She seemed to be referring to the dress, by the way she stared down at herself. Had he ruined a priceless family heirloom? What if it was some vintage sixties creation her parents had brought over from Lebanon and now he’d destroyed it?
“…a mistake,” she finished.
With that, she turned and stormed away, toward the doors. Any bit of hope he’d had at a great night, all that optimism, was crushed.
Devin, his party animal buddy, chose that exact moment to drape his arm around Raffi and say way too loudly, “Don’t worry. Plenty of other hotties, right? We know how the ole Raffi G operates.”
“Bro,” Raffi said angrily—much more angrily than he had expected to become at that statement—but it was too late. The doors had shut behind Ani.
Now he could finally hear Riley. “I am SO sorry. I let the music and the vino get to me. She looked wrecked. You need to go after her, like, yesterday.”
“Aw, c’mon, this man doesn’t chase anyone. Women chase him.”
Riley put her hands on her hips. “While that may be true, Mr. I Buy Up Hospitals and Chop Them Up Into Parts—”
“Hey! Wait, do I know you?”
“Devin. We were in Operations Management together. Riley?”
“Oh. Your hair is short now, I—”
Raffi didn’t hear the rest of their conversation. He rushed out of his own party into the night.
The chilly evening air sharpened his senses and made him feel far less drunk as he searched for Ani. It wasn’t difficult. A car door slammed and an engine ignited, along with bright lights. Raffi ran toward them.
A part of him wondered if maybe the accidental wine spill followed by the accidental grope were all for the best. He shouldn’t be pursuing Ani.
They still had well over six months of working closely together.
Maybe that was fate intervening in the form of a whopper wine pour and a careening Riley. Telling him to stay the fuck away.
But the thought of her leaving, sopping wet in a wine stain of his doing, driving off alone and possibly even crying, created a leaden feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t allow that.
God, what had gotten into him? A woman hadn’t made him feel this way in, well, ever. He didn’t need to think about that now, though, because he had reached her car.
“Ani,” he shouted, lightly slapping the rear passenger door twice just as the vehicle began to reverse. Raffi jumped back in a move of self-preservation—at least he still had good instincts, even three heavy glasses in. The car stopped suddenly, lurching forward from the abrupt halt.
He heard swearing from inside her car. She shut it off and swung open the door, and despite Ani’s obvious anger, he couldn’t help but feel relief that she hadn’t simply ignored him and left. He had a real chance to apologize.
“—do you think you’re doing? I almost ran you over!”
“You didn’t. My survival skills are top-notch,” he said, feeling a goofy grin spread across his face.
Ani unbuckled herself and got out of the car, slammed the door shut, crossed her arms, and stared at him. “What do you want?”
Raffi took a deep breath. The sight of her infuriated face was intoxicating. He could feel the anger rolling off her in waves, and he wondered what other types of emotions she could elicit with that intensity. Then he told himself to put the testosterone on mute and turn on his brain instead.
“Listen, I needed to give you a real apology for destroying your dress and—” How should he phrase this? “The napkin slip.”
“A slip, was it?” she said, sneering. “Or getting bold and handsy after a couple drinks?”
Raffi planted his feet firmly on the ground and looked straight into Ani’s eyes. He needed her to understand. “I promise you, I would never touch someone without their consent. Ever. I know some of what you’ve heard, but that? That was never me.”
Ani let out a breath, defusing. She seemed to believe his truth.
He felt the blood pumping through his body at the sight of her chest rising and falling and remembered how soft and warm she was.
He couldn’t help himself. Raffi took one step closer and lowered his voice.
“And if I was touching you in a place like that, on purpose, believe me, you would know it was on purpose.”
Raffi watched her swallow, the tiny bump on her throat bob up and down. He’d pushed, possibly too far, but Ani wasn’t running.
“Apology accepted,” she whispered. Then, somewhat louder but still sounding unsure of herself, she said, “I—I need to go. Get this stain out. The sooner the better.”
An idea hit him then, and it was delicate, so he needed to make sure he didn’t sound like the scallywag she suspected he was. “Why don’t you take care of it here? In the kitchens. We probably have whatever cleaners you need.”
Ani raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “And what would I wear in the meantime? Bra and panties?”
Now Raffi visibly swallowed. He didn’t know how she’d take this, but it was the best idea he had. “We have T-shirts. Men’s XL would fit like a dress on you.”
Ani appeared to consider it, looking away from him. “Fine. Do you have salt? Dishwashing liquid?”
His spirits lifted. She was going to stay. “Check and check.”
She followed him back to the office without a word. The bass of the music from the main room pumped against the walls while Raffi crouched down to open a box of ? T-shirts he’d had made. He dug through until he found a men’s XL and handed it to Ani.
She was a sight in the bright lights of the office, arms crossed over her stained dress, made up to the nines, those chunky high heels making her legs look so taut. He wanted to get back down on his knees and—
No, no, he wouldn’t let his mind go there. Too tempting. Too much wine. He had to restrain himself.
Ani eyed him and shook her head slightly.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re going to stand there while I change?”
Yes, preferably.
Raffi truly had to stop himself from blurting, “Is that an invitation?”
“Right, my bad.”
He stepped outside the door and waited, listening to the music and hoping his guests were all fine without him.
He had no desire to go back out there. The only room he wanted to be in was the one with Ani.
He was being a tutum kloukh, the soft insult his grandma would lob at anyone who did something silly.
“Pumpkin head.” Hollowed out of all its guts, just an empty gourd making stupid decisions.
Honestly, he was still feeling honored that Ani had showed up at all.
His winery was an hour plus away from San Francisco, where it seemed she lived.
He wondered about it. Was she in an apartment?
Did she live at home? What neighborhood?
What were her favorite restaurants and shops?
What did she do in her free time? Was she currently seeing anyone, casually dating, or what?
He’d need to tap his Armenian gossip network to find out.
Or stop being a coward and just ask her.
He’d distanced himself from the Armenian community somewhat once he started his book club transformation.
The Hyes had seen too much. He realized how much of a bad rep he’d given himself after years of sleeping with the hotties of the Bay Area Armenian scene and not calling them back.
Lala. He’d sent other apologies in addition to hers, but it still didn’t feel like enough.
The door opened a crack and Ani peeked out. “It’s a little shorter than I expected. Is anyone out there?”
“Not a soul.” Translation: Please come out so that I may see, for my eyes only.
“Okay. Let’s do this fast.”
She appeared in the hall, a white ? printed on a long black shirt that skimmed her mid-thighs.
The baggy shirt and her platform heels were quite a sight.
He may have been a pumpkin head, but he was a pumpkin head who was currently leading a deadly sexy woman wearing only a T-shirt through the halls of his winery, so he considered that a win.
Ani had spread her burgundy-splotched dress over the countertop, and Raffi struggled not to imagine her in that dress, splayed across the stainless steel.
He helped her straighten it out, and their fingers grazed for the shortest moment, which sent a rush through his body.
He was really far gone. Every moment around Ani made him feel high out of his mind, in the best way. He didn’t want it to end.
Ani said, “Thanks for this. I don’t know if we’ll get it all out, but attacking early is our best shot. I really love this dress.”