Chapter 13 #2
Raffi started up the car, which she now saw was a Jaguar, and for which the buttons, dials, and lack of any music technology prior to 1970 indicated that it was actually an old car.
Interesting. She’d have pegged him for a BMW M series type of guy, not a vintage Jaguar.
Then again, she was discovering more and more that all her preconceived notions about Raffi Garabedian were, in fact, wrong.
Raffi revved the engine, which was quite loud at first, more than a modern car, and they drove off. Raffi appeared light, happy; even without the obviously large smile, she could feel positive energy emanating from him.
“How’d your VIP event go?” Ani asked, thinking this might be the reason.
“Eh, fine. Probably not as well as it should have gone.”
“Sorry to hear it.” So, not that.
Raffi tapped on the steering wheel with some urgency. “Honestly, I hope this whole Kami renovation makes a difference, because no one seems to have heard of or care about ?, no matter what I do.”
Ani put her arm up on the bare windowsill, enjoying the breeze tickling her arm. “Have you booked any weddings besides this one?”
“Weddings? God no. People barely come for tastings.”
That gave her an idea. “Wait, let me see something.”
Ani pulled out her phone, searched two of the major wedding venue databases, and found nothing about ?.
Ani waved her phone at Raffi, although he was driving. “Well, no wonder. Your winery isn’t getting booked because it’s not in any of the big wedding venue registries.”
“I hadn’t even thought of— Can you, I don’t know, message me their links?”
“I can do you one better. I can add ? for you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“No, it’s no problem. And that’s just one thing.
” She found herself sitting up straighter, facing him to talk, filled with a sudden effervescence.
“You need a full page of your website that showcases your venue for weddings, with the information potential couples would need to entice them to send an inquiry. Not too much, not too little. Oh, definitely add the architect’s renderings of the new space; people will eat that up and start booking after October.
” As the wind whipped through her hair and the golden hills of Napa rolled by, Ani’s face lit up with yet another idea.
“Ooooh, add a wait list. That’ll really get people salivating. ”
She was getting such a thrill out of helping Raffi, it almost shocked her. Like she was ready to head back, bust out her laptop, and set all these sites up for him. She wanted to help an Armenian business succeed, of course, but maybe she wanted Raffi in particular to succeed?
“Okay, Miss Wedding Planner, I obviously need to hire you for PR and marketing.”
Ani blushed, the warmth spreading from her cheeks to the tips of her ears.
The first time he’d called her that, it had almost felt like sarcasm—like he was surprised that she actually had a good idea.
He’d said it again at the wine-tasting party, and in that context, she hadn’t hated it.
But now, hearing it again, she realized it wasn’t condescending or overreaching; it was playful, teasing in a way that made her feel like they were in on the same joke.
And when he complimented her skills, it wasn’t flattery; it felt genuine, like he actually saw her as someone who knew what she was doing.
For once, she didn’t feel like the B+ version of herself she’d been carrying around for years.
“Should we maybe make some time after the fountain assessment to work on it?” she asked.
Raffi said, “I’d like that.”
Ani hardly had time to take that in because her phone rang. It was Kami. She didn’t want to talk to her right now, especially as the momentum between her and Raffi was only growing and she didn’t want to hit the brakes on that. But Kami was, in truth, her most important client.
She turned to Raffi. “Sorry, gotta get this.”
“No problem.”
Ani slid her finger across the screen to answer. “Hey, Kami, what’s up?”
Kami’s voice on the other line was frantic. “I’m having second thoughts.”
Ani sat straight up in her seat, her heart whirring. “What?”
She felt Raffi’s gaze on her. This would materially affect him as well. Oh God. She had to handle this. Was it because she had been too flirty with Kami, too amenable? Did Kami want Ani back now? This was all her fault.
And thinking about it, if that was what Kami was calling about, why was Ani filled with a sick, roiling feeling in her stomach? No hint of excitement at all. Panic, in fact.
Kami’s words came through the phone like a flurry of feathers, high-pitched and rapid, each word tumbling out faster than the last. “About the iridescent crush color we chose. Did we dismiss the cashmere velvet too quickly? Like, I’m obsessed with iridescent crush, don’t get me wrong.
But is it too trendy? Cashmere velvet is so classic. ”
Ani relaxed in her seat and blew out a long breath. This was about the table linens. Second thoughts about the table linens! Not love. Not regret. She almost cried, she was so relieved.
And there were two lines of thought that washed over her. The first was that so much was riding on this wedding—more than she realized until she thought it might be snatched away from her.
The second was a shift she felt in her body, deep and tectonic. A shift so immense she had to shove it away in this moment and address Kami’s actual question.
Ani drew herself back into professional mode.
“Cashmere velvet is definitely classic, but we decided it wouldn’t be as stunning, as memorable. And you are going for out-of-this-world memorable. That’s what you get with iridescent crush. It’s undoubtedly the right choice.”
Kami seemed to calm on the other end of the line at this reasoning. “Right, you’re right. I just needed reassurance, you know? I knew you’d have the answer. So this is definitely the way to go.”
Ani filled her voice with a confidence she reserved for clients—even as something unsteady flickered beneath. “Without a doubt. You’re going to love it.”
“Oh my God, Ani, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you! Ciao!”
And she hung up before Ani had a chance to reply.
Ani kept the phone to her ear, frozen, processing what had happened. Not about the linens. Not even about Ani’s momentary anxiety that the wedding was being called off.
Something bigger.
For two years, she’d lived with the ghost of what she and Kami had been.
She had turned over in her mind every lingering thought of Kami, hoping, perhaps, that it was all a mistake.
That Kami would come back to her. But sitting here, the phone warm in her hand, breeze cool on her face, she felt it—the astonishing lightness of not wanting Kami back.
It was a grief and a liberation in the same breath.
Ani put down her phone.
“What was that about?” Raffi asked, somewhat gruffly.
Ani blinked, as if waking from a dream she hadn’t realized she was still in. She put a hand over her heart and told Raffi only what he needed to know. “Kami started off the conversation saying she was having second thoughts, and I nearly died on the spot.”
“There we go, I was wondering what had you so anxious. I almost pulled the car over, but then you were talking about velvet crushes and everything seemed okay.”
“Yes, she meant she was second-guessing our color and texture choices for the tablecloths.”
“And she needed to call you for that?”
Raffi merged onto the freeway but kept a slower speed so the wind wasn’t unbearable. Ani rather liked it, whipping through her hair.
“She was panicking. Sometimes in a wedding, brides or other wedding party members will focus on one detail and freak out over it like it’s a make-or-break, because of all the stress.
There are so many balls to juggle at once, it gets overwhelming.
I don’t know the psychological term for it, but they seem to concentrate all that anxiety into, say, the choice between chicken piccata and chicken Milanese as a coping mechanism.
Something they can control and perfect. I see it every time. ”
“Hmm,” Raffi said. “Guess I could see that. Well, whatever you said worked. That magic touch again.”
Ani turned away slightly to hide her blush. “Uh, yeah, I’m lucky Kami somehow trusts my judgment. That’s not always the case.”
Ani expected a flicker of satisfaction in saying this. Instead, all she felt was a quiet, comforting truth: She didn’t need to be the person Kami turned to anymore. It wasn’t the burden it used to be. She was fine being there for Kami in a professional sense, but nothing more.
She let the wind take the rest of those old feelings and toss them behind her like something no longer worth carrying.
Raffi didn’t say anything. She could let him sit in silence, but his irritation at Kami was something she wanted to bring up, and now she had a chance.
“You’re not the biggest fan of Kami, are you?” Ani asked.
“Huh?” He seemed to be stunned out of his line of thought. “Why, are you?”
Ani answered somewhat defensively. “I mean, not really. I was. I used to be her number one fan, but it’s clear I was in love with some kind of fantasy.”
As she said it, Ani shocked herself with the truth of it. She had clung to the heartbreak for so long, convinced it was proof of something real. But maybe she hadn’t lost a great love. Maybe she had only lost an illusion.
The memories shifted in her mind, no longer golden and untouchable, but something more fragile, human.
The fights they had sidestepped, the times she had ignored the gut feelings that whispered Kami wasn’t all in, the way Ani had always been the one to smooth things over, to give more, to believe harder.
She had told herself they were meant to be, but had Kami ever truly made her feel safe? Had she ever really been chosen?