Chapter 15
Raffi
Raffi was processing seeing…what was her name again?
Kylie? Kayla? Kyrie? K-woman was talking to him a mile a minute about all the changes in her life, about her new workout routine and her spiritual healer telling her to go for things she’d previously shied away from, and huh, was she talking about him?
About trying to ask him out on a date? They had hooked up one night when he was new to the Napa scene.
It hadn’t meant much at the time, but now he saw it for what it was: a careless moment that had ripples he hadn’t considered.
He wished, more than anything, that Ani didn’t have to witness this—that she wasn’t seeing this version of himself he was doing his best to reform. Wait. Wasn’t she here a second ago? Where had she gone?
His former fling touched his arm, and Raffi was about to come up with a polite way to tell her he wasn’t interested when he heard the loud splash.
His head snapped up to the fountain, but he couldn’t see what had caused the noise.
It was a significant splash, so not a twig or an acorn from the trees on the property.
As he scanned the area, he saw it. My God.
A single red heel sat splayed at the base of the fountain, as if it’d fallen off unexpectedly.
Ani.
His blood ran cold. Oh no. No, no, no.
Raffi rushed over without thinking. The fountain was far from where he was standing—how had she wandered off so quickly? But surely she’d emerge any minute, right? By the time he got there, she should be out of the water.
Instead, the water agitated, like something was fighting under there, so Raffi ran faster, ripping his jacket off and throwing it to the ground.
This shouldn’t be happening. Something was terribly wrong.
He knew if he didn’t get over there as fast as humanly possible and wrench her out of the water—if anything at all happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
There were a couple of people nearby, peering toward the disturbance, but no one was doing anything. No one! They were all sitting around, staring, sipping wine while letting a woman drown—what the hell was wrong with people?
Raffi approached the fountain, spotted Ani’s thrashing arms just under the surface, and without another thought, jumped in.
Oh fuck. He shut off his brain from the full impact of seeing her fighting for her life and concentrated on getting her safe as fast as possible. No matter what, he would not fail.
The icy water stabbed at him and his clothes dragged with heavy weight as he submerged himself to try to figure out what was wrong. He couldn’t see much, but as soon as Raffi put his arms around Ani, her jerking settled a bit. He pulled her up, but something resisted.
Following the area of tension, his fingers found where she was stuck, the fabric trapped, tethering her to the bottom like an anchor. Her hands suddenly joined his and together they yanked, not caring about anything except getting her free.
And then—release.
He surged upward, hauling her with him, breaking the surface with gasping, ragged breaths.
She began coughing—thank God—eyes squeezed shut with the effort, her body shuddering against his.
He pulled her, soaked and cold, into his arms while she coughed and coughed and he clapped her back.
She was breathing. She was breathing. And then he realized he was, too. Big, heavy breaths of relief.
“Ani,” he asked gruffly. “Can you hear me?”
She made a series of gasping squeaks. Not good enough.
This wasn’t like when one of his former patients was in a life-threatening situation, a hair’s breadth from dying. That was blind duty. This was personal. And his eyes felt wide open for the first time in a long time.
He didn’t just have a crush on Ani. He was falling for her, hard.
Her brush with death had grabbed his little crush by the throat and thrust it into deeper territory.
Raffi rubbed her cold cheek with his thumb. “Ani, I’ve got you. Can you talk?”
One shaky hand rose to his chest and squeezed the placket of his shirt.
“Why—” he thought he heard her say, but he wasn’t sure.
But still, his heart leapt. She could breathe and she could talk; this was all pointing to her being okay.
He had no idea if she’d hit her head or what had happened underwater, or if there was the possibility of brain damage—his heart stopped for a moment just thinking about it—from the combination of contusion and near drowning.
“What’s that, Ani jan? Can you try again?”
He cradled her head in his arms, swept a wet lock of hair off her forehead, then stroked her soaked hair near her forehead and temples.
“…Y…S—”
Was that a combination of English and Spanish? Why es?
“…L?” she asked, voice hoarse.
Raffi threw his head back in exasperation. Making jokes? She was fine; she was going to be just fine. And his heart filled. “Jesus Christ. No, it’s—who cares? You can talk. Asdvadz…”
He hugged her tight and planted an impulsive kiss on her forehead.
Professionalism be damned, she almost died.
Then a second later the rush of oh-shit-what-did-I-do?
hit him, and he studied Ani’s reaction. But she had a serene smile on her face.
She didn’t mind. She maybe even liked it. And she was alive.
They were both wet, head to toe, and she was shivering in his arms, so he held her tighter.
“How are you feeling? Tell me anything that hurts.”
He reached for her wrist, pushed his two fingers against it, and counted. Elevated but not out of control.
She kept the same smile on her face. “I was stuck down there. Terrified when I realized what was happening, panicked, couldn’t get myself free. But I felt someone pulling me, and I knew everything would be okay. I was so happy—so happy it was you.”
Raffi tried not to let himself get overly excited about that. He still had a diagnostic to perform. “You feel faint or anything?”
“I’m not—I’m not sure.”
Raffi popped his head up and for the first time realized there were people around, surrounding them, talking among themselves. “Hey—” he shouted. “I need a blood pressure cuff, stat. Can anyone here help with this?”
“I’ll do it,” responded a woman he couldn’t quite see.
“Thank you. Towels, too, please? And everyone please back up, give us some space,” Raffi ordered. “She’s going to be fine.”
Having worked in emergency hospital settings and seeing how the team banded together so seamlessly to dispense care, it did shock him how, in the case of an unexpected event outside a medical facility, no one took charge. It was fine, though; he was all too pleased to take control here.
“Ani, lav es?” he asked, checking in again on how she was doing.
“Better and better,” she said.
Ani lifted her head slightly, glancing around.
“You’re soaked, too.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he replied.
“And you ruined your fancy shoes—”
“Sh, sh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about them.”
He found himself stroking her face again, near her temples, and she leaned into his touch. His heart raced, still ridden with adrenaline but also something else. Something warm and pleasing.
A young woman wearing a DePietro badge appeared by his side and handed him a blood pressure cuff.
“Thanks,” he said. “Appreciate your help.” Raffi was less afraid now and feeling less irritated and more charitable toward the crowd.
He wrapped the cuff around Ani’s pretty arm—or tev, in Armenian, which also meant “wing” and felt appropriate here. He pumped and took her reading. She sighed in his lap, a content sigh.
“Normal enough,” he reported. “Surprising after that scare.”
“I don’t feel scared anymore,” she said, looking up at him. She was breathtaking from this angle. “You were so far away. How did you make it in time?”
“I ran.”
“Oh.” Ani smiled to herself.
Oh. Because of him? Maybe. He invited hope into his heart, liked the way it nestled in there.
“Let’s see if you can stand and get you out of here.”
Raffi propped her up while getting into a kneeling position himself. He held her hand while the other was wrapped around her waist. Together, they rose.
He was quite a bit taller than her, and he loved the way she tucked into his chest.
“How does it feel?”
“Great, actually.”
“Not like you almost drowned?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
Then a shiver passed through Ani, and as he held her, he felt the tremble of her body, top to toe.
“We need to get you warm.”
A lot of good he was doing her now, soaking as he was. The air, which had previously felt pleasant, now hit as cold.
Luckily, as they walked toward the entrance, that same employee from before rushed toward them, holding out a DePietro-branded blanket.
“Not quite a towel, but this should work. It’s on the house. We are so sorry.”
Raffi narrowed his eyes. That was the least they could do, but she seemed to be a young employee, possibly new, most likely not management. He would be coming back and demanding blood. But not from her, and not today.
Raffi grabbed the blanket and draped it over Ani. He reached over to grab her red heels, then carefully fitted each on her feet. She pinched the blanket tightly at her chest.
“What about one for him?” Ani asked.
The employee shifted nervously from foot to foot. “We don’t have another. I’m so sorry.”
“Ani, I’m fine. Can you walk?”
In truth, he was touched that at this moment, after what happened to her, Ani was thinking about his well-being. She’d nearly drowned, had been trapped underwater, had faced the kind of panic that could break a person apart. And yet here she was, worrying about whether he was warm.
Something about that lodged deep in his chest.
He didn’t need a blanket. He was fine. But he wouldn’t say no to Ani’s concern for him.
“Yes, and in fact…” She opened up the blanket and invited Raffi inside her cocoon.
“I really don’t—”