Chapter 13
Ani
Ani got to the address Raffi provided at ten a.m., like they’d planned.
It was a rustic area with several rows of modern low-rise condos dotting the landscape.
They were fairly close to The Parker, one of the famous luxury hotels in the area—where she would love to plan a wedding one day—and she wondered if the condos were also owned by the hotel, as they had that same air of contemporary country resort.
Raffi was already waiting outside the buildings in his signature navy suit, white button-down, and a pair of sunglasses that made him look like a celebrity ready to make his Cannes entrance. Not like a guy about to hop into a van and do fountain recon.
Ani, however, was not in her flirtatious best. She’d decided on a shapeless black dress that hit her knees and surely would prevent Raffi’s interest. However, she couldn’t help herself and decided to pair the boring sack with red heels.
They were a classic style, not too flashy or too high, but they were still…
red. She needed something to not feel frumpy, and the heels were the perfect antidote.
She parked, popped out of the car, and felt for the first time like maybe they should hug? But that seemed wrong—they were colleagues—so she decided instead to take advantage of their distance and gave a wave hello. There, it was done and over with.
“This your building?” she asked.
“Home sweet home,” he said.
It was very nice, no doubt about it. Everything felt brand-new, and it melded with the landscape well, intentionally designed.
“Is this part of The Parker or something?” she asked.
He nodded. “Kind of. It’s owned by them, but there are twenty or so condos. We do get access to the pool and spa, though, so that was the selling point for me.”
The Parker pool was a legendary hot spot, the type of place where Napa’s elite lounged with their thirty-dollar cocktails and wore sunglasses so expensive they probably came with their own insurance policies.
Ani imagined Raffi lying back in a chair, women gawking over him, striking up conversations with him…
She felt an uncomfortable twisting of jealousy in her chest. Jealous of women who might not even exist. She blinked, startled by the intensity of it, and silently scolded herself.
She had promised herself she’d guard her heart, not get envious over hypotheticals. She needed to calm the heck down.
“Cool if I drive?” he asked.
“Of course.”
She followed him toward the small parking lot.
“I actually have something in the car for you,” he said, almost sheepish.
Ani stopped walking for a second. He had something for her? What could that possibly be? She racked her brain and came up with: an iced matcha latte, some bottles of wine, a photo of the progress being made at the site? She truly could not imagine anything else.
They stopped in front of a forest green convertible that looked both old and modern at the same time. Since they were on the side, she couldn’t peep what type of model it was, but she did know it was a stunning vehicle.
“This is what you drive?” she asked.
“Shockingly, not the creeper van,” he replied. “This is more my everyday. The van’s just for special occasions.”
Ani smiled while Raffi popped the trunk and pulled out a nondescript black bag.
“An apology gift,” he said, handing it to her.
Ani looked up at him before taking the bag, but his eyes were hidden behind those dark glasses, so she couldn’t read how he was feeling. “Oh…kay,” she said.
“Go ahead, let me know if it’s the right one.”
So she did. Ani opened the bag, and inside, folded neatly and wrapped in tissue paper, was the exact white dress that had been forever destroyed by a cabernet splotch. Her brain could hardly compute.
“Did I get it right?” he asked, seemingly nervous.
“Raffi, oh my God, yes. How did you…? You didn’t have to, you know.”
She stared at the dress in her hands. What the hell? He was gifting her something, something so thoughtful. She had loved that dress, but considering her situation, there was no way she was going to buy a brand-new one. Now she had one.
He shrugged. “I totaled it. This was the only right thing to do.”
“But your YSL shirt—I mean, I ruined that one, and I didn’t, I can’t—”
He waved her off. “That was different. It wasn’t the brand, it was sentimental.”
“Oh God, that just makes the matcha stain so much worse.”
And she also wondered how that shirt was sentimental. Was it from an ex? Kami?! Or something else?
He took off his sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“No, it’s fine, it’s fine. It’s just a shirt.”
Ani heard the lie.
“Is it?”
Raffi glanced down, his hands fidgeting with the sunglasses he’d removed. “Well, no. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
They caught each other’s eyes, and Ani hoped she was able to impart the full meaning of her words. “I’d like that.”
He half smiled. Then turned his attention back to the open trunk. “There’s something else. It’s stupid. I wasn’t sure if that dress was the right one or not, so I got something else, too, and I can’t return it anyway so just keep it, and if it doesn’t fit you can regift it, I won’t mind.”
He rambled as he handed her a box. A black box that said Balmain Paris.
She hoped, she desperately hoped, this was one of those times when you put the gift in a box it didn’t belong to.
Her family had a couple running Nordstrom boxes they kept recycling and using for Christmas and birthdays year after year.
She opened it, and inside was perfectly pressed tissue paper sealed with a Balmain sticker. Balmain was not a normal designer. It was Kardashian-level pricey. Unobtainable. Not even worth dreaming about.
“Raffi,” she said dangerously. “What did you do?”
“What?” He shrugged, genuinely clueless.
“I can’t open this.”
“Yes, you can. I got it for you,” he said, then immediately inspected some gravel by his shoe, as if too embarrassed to look at her.
She took a deep breath, gingerly peeled off the sticker, and lifted the tissue to reveal a black-and-white short-sleeved tweed minidress, which was, indeed, designed by Balmain, and the single most beautiful article of clothing she’d held in her hands. The stitching on this thing, the silk lining…
“You hate it?” he asked. “Tweed was a risk, but it’s in fashion right now and also sort of timeless, so I thought it could last a while.”
Her voice came out a whisper. “Raffi, are you fucking kidding me right now? You bought me a very, very designer dress? You can’t do that.”
She felt that was true, but she also felt…spoiled, in a good way, in a way she’d never been before. Kami had been fabulously wealthy but never bought her lavish gifts, which Ani didn’t even know she would want. Until now.
“Sure I can. I destroyed your dress and wasn’t sure if I got the exact same one, so I bought a backup.”
“Balmain is not a backup!”
Raffi shrugged. “I love shopping, so sue me.”
Ani breathed out. “My God. I can’t accept this.”
“But do you like it?”
“I love it!” she shouted, and although she was mildly abashed by her outburst, she caught his widening smile. “But this is insane, you realize that, right?”
Raffi huffed. “Just accept it, please. It’ll make this all less awkward. I didn’t mean the dress to be a huge thing, just a nice gesture. A please-forgive-me type of gesture.”
She started laughing. “Okay, Raffi, yes, all right? I forgive you. Wholeheartedly. You’ve more than made up for it.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
Ani tucked the dress back into the box. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this now? I can’t just tote it around Napa in the back seat of your convertible. I sure as hell am not leaving it in my car. Civics are the most likely car to get broken into. I learned that the hard way.”
“Sucks,” he replied with actual sympathy in his eyes. “Leave it in my trunk, then.”
“Okay, yes,” she said, and handed over the two dresses to Raffi, who nestled them safely away.
Ani shook herself. “What were we doing today, again? I have no clue.”
This time Raffi laughed. “Well, sweetheart, we’re going to see about some fountains.”
Ani had been on her way to the passenger-side door when she froze. Sweetheart. Oh, she loved that. The word sent shivers through her body. Fancy gifts, pet names. Raffi was pulling out all the stops, and Ani was going to have a hell of a hard time trying not to fall hard and fast for him.
She didn’t understand why he was bothering with her, though.
Why her? She was just…Ani. Even her name was plain.
She wasn’t particularly pretty (“Bug eyes, bug eyes,” she heard the chant of her middle-school bully) or smart or accomplished.
In fact, in everything she was sort of a B+, which also, not coincidentally, matched her 3.
3 GPA in both high school and college. Raffi could have anyone, yet he seemed to be pursuing her.
Was it just because she had turned him down?
But surely others before her had turned him down.
He wasn’t everyone’s type just because he was handsome.
She wondered if this was the same type of game he’d pulled on Lala, her sister’s friend.
Or if this was something different. She wished she could just ask him.
She willed herself to keep moving. And reply, she had to reply. “Right, fountains.”
Raffi slid into the driver’s seat. “You were telling me that my vision for a Trevi-like fountain was ill informed and a huge liability and would mess with the overall vibe. So we’re going to DePietro Winery to see who’s right.”
Ani moved to open her door and stepped in. “Thank you for the recap. Helpful.” The sage leather of the seats hugged her. The weather was nice today—finally not cold and no chill in the air—so a convertible ride through Napa sounded like a good idea. With a Balmain dress in the trunk!