Chapter 17
Raffi
Ani was an absolute vision. She always was, even soaking wet and coughing up fountain water. But the look on her face right now, wearing the dress he had bought her, was something new. She glowed like she felt taken care of, adored, and he hoped he might have had something to do with it.
“So, it fits,” she smiled shyly.
“You can sure say that,” he said, unable to stop himself from sounding like he was salivating. Like really, man, rein it in.
“Thank you so much, again. I don’t deser—”
“Do not even finish that sentence. Yes, you do.”
And now Raffi also knew exactly what garments were under that dress.
A matching white bra and panty set. Lace trim on both.
He tried very hard not to study it all too much because he didn’t want to be gross, but she had handed him the pile.
They had fallen out. And he had pulled them out of the dryer and folded them on the guest bed.
There had been time for his eyes to roam and his brain to imagine.
“Let’s go check out this engagement party,” Raffi said, and ushered her toward the door.
They arrived at the Napa Harvest Inn, which sounded much quainter than it was—a sprawling hundred-acre property with luxurious villas dotting the landscape. He could already hear the band playing.
Ani slid out of the car with so much elegance, considering that she’d had a near-death experience just hours before.
He remembered it again, seeing her body sinking in the water, and he was gripped with a sudden urge to hold her and never let go.
He’d first had that thought while she napped on him during the movie.
He didn’t think his brain absorbed one single second of the film because he was too focused on the feel of Ani snuggled against him.
And also, at several points, willing his boner to disappear by thinking of the unsexiest things possible.
Palm Sunday church service with his grandma.
That time Raffi’s nemesis stole the soccer ball from him and immediately scored a goal.
His spiteful childhood piano teacher who was always eating egg salad sandwiches while he practiced.
They all worked like charms, until he felt Ani’s breath rise up and down, felt her cheek against his shoulder, her lips pouty, so kissable.
He’d wanted to kiss her many times but felt, after what she’d been through, that perhaps he shouldn’t push.
She seemed into him, he thought. Maybe? She certainly trusted him to handle her underwear.
She’d fallen asleep on top of him. She hadn’t moved when she woke up to find his arm around her. These were good signs.
But a kiss was something else entirely. He wasn’t going to do it just yet. The moment wasn’t right, with them just arriving and Ani about to work.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t be close to her now, though. Raffi rushed to Ani’s side, closed the car door for her, and held out his arm like he was courting her. To his pleasure, she took it, and they walked arm in arm toward the music.
“Does your family do engagement parties?” Ani asked. “You know, your broader family?” she added quickly.
He didn’t want Ani to feel that his family was a sore subject. To that end, he should probably stop being an emo jerk every time they were brought up. He regretted his mean laugh earlier when she asked about his parents’ relationship.
“Don’t feel bad about asking about my family,” he said. “I promise I’ll be less grumpy about it. I like talking about even the hard stuff with you.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and he may have imagined it but she moved a little closer to him.
“But yeah, my second cousin and their whole branch of the family is into that. A bunch of siblings have all been lucky in love, so I’ve been to my fair share of engagement parties. Usually just as big as the wedding.”
She nodded. “We only had one in my family, and I was thirteen or so, but I remember thinking how romantic it was. My uncle—or, like, second cousin once removed? I always forget—he and his bride seemed so enamored with each other. They’re still going strong.
I like that whenever I see them together and he’s telling a story—he’s a fantastic storyteller by the way, that whole side of the family is—she still looks at him like he’s the funniest, most amazing man in the world. ”
“Fuck, that’s sweet.”
The sun was setting, styling Ani in golden light as they walked past row after row of grapes.
“Yeah, it is.” She paused a moment. “My parents are like that, too. I didn’t want to, you know, rub salt in the wound, but it’s been kind of nuts growing up with parents who are still so obsessed with each other. I feel like they often put themselves first, above me and my sister—”
He liked learning this about Ani’s family, even if it was in stark contrast to his own. He wanted her to be happy. And he was curious about her sister, since, well, he had a thing about siblings.
“So, you have a sister.”
“Yeah, younger, actually. The more successful, prettier version of me. Ani 2.0.”
Raffi stopped walking, and because they were linked, Ani jerked back. “Don’t say that,” Raffi said, serious.
“What?” She shrugged. “It’s true. She is a corporate lawyer—not a paralegal, mind you—a very fancy lawyer who works a thousand hours a week. She got married first—my younger sister—to an Armenian man, and she’ll probably be having kids soon. Every Armenian parent’s fantasy.”
“That’s great for her, but you’re chasing a different dream right now. You hated law. Do you wish you were a lawyer?”
“No.”
“You like what you do, right?”
“Honestly, I love it.”
“There you go.”
“But I’m not successful.”
“We talked about this, Ani jan. Yet. You’re not where you want to be, yet.”
“Okay Mr. Growth Mindset.”
He smirked. “It’s true, though. You have high expectations for yourself, that’s great. And you’re working toward them. I think that’s fantastic.”
He did. He loved her drive, and her work ethic inspired him to be better. Somehow, seeing her striving made him want to push all the more, too.
Raffi started walking again along the crunchy pebbles, satisfied that he’d made his point. He was also pleased to feel Ani’s arm brushing this way and that along his again as they took their strides.
Ani dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “Yeah, but I don’t look like this.”
The background of her phone was a photo of her and her sister at a party of some kind.
Both of them dressed up, hugging, smiling, and they seemed like they genuinely liked each other.
Ani’s sister was undoubtedly hot—her hair and makeup were done, but overdone, in his opinion.
You could see more of what Ani really looked like.
Her sister was taller, but Raffi liked Ani’s petite stature.
He loved how she fit into him. Plus, there was some look in her sister’s eye, or maybe it was the angle of her jaw, that simply didn’t attract him.
“She’s very nice, but she’s no you.”
Ani rolled her eyes, hard. “Oh, come on.”
“It’s true. You’re a natural beauty.”
Now Ani stopped dead in her tracks. “You can’t be serious. I don’t think anyone’s called me that in my life.”
“Well then, they missed out on a chance to give a compliment to a natural beauty. You can’t tell me you don’t know you’re gorgeous.”
Ani’s cheeks blushed so quickly, so scarlet, Raffi’s heart burned with joy. He’d made her do that.
What else could he make her do?
Then she picked back up. They were nearly at the tent where the band was playing. “You’re just saying that,” Ani muttered, which Raffi could hardly hear over the boom of the bass.
“I’m not,” Raffi replied. “I told you my policy, right? I’m transparent. I don’t lie, and I don’t flatter. I do compliment, however, when compliments are due. And you, Ani Avakian, are gorgeous.”
He stopped just outside the tent while he delivered this line, with Ani’s eyes locked straight onto his, her sun-blessed skin glowing with neon hues. Her neck arched toward him.
He could kiss her now, he could really kiss her.
A quiet gravity began to pull Raffi and Ani together, the distance dissolving between them ever so slowly.
He watched Ani’s eyes darken with anticipation, while he steeled his nerves, not truly believing this was actually happening, when a loud “Opa!” was shouted from a group of men directly behind them, clinking shot glasses and downing cloudy ouzo.
The moment was over.
Raffi shook himself, pretending the almost-kiss didn’t almost-happen. His voice came out somewhat hoarse. “Greek engagement party?”
Ani seemed distracted, like she was still a few seconds behind.
She took a deep breath and turned on a smile.
It was her business smile, though. “Yep, the soon-to-be Athanasious couple, I believe. That’s why this band is so special; the members are Greek Armenians, so they can do the American stuff and Armenian songs, too. Plus Greek ones, as we might see.”
A little bitter at having failed at kissing her, Raffi tried to shake it off and led Ani through the doors of the tent and into the world of the party.
The music blared, playing an impressive cover of “Uptown Funk,” while guests chatted and laughed and hugged and danced.
The tent glowed with hundreds of lights, creating a floating effect, and at the center of each table stood a massive flower arrangement.
He realized they were surrounded by people who looked quite a bit like them, although somewhat different.
Alternate versions of his parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and friends everywhere.
He and Ani were more or less indistinguishable from the other party guests.
“If we get a drink, would that be unethical?” he asked Ani.
“The soon-to-be Athanasious apparently invited me to go ahead and have a glass on them. I think, in all this expense”—she gestured around—“it would be okay if we took two.”