“I want to report trespassing on my property.”
Raffi gave them his address, explained that the reporters and paparazzi, while keeping out of the winery itself, were still camped in the entrance and parking lot, which were technically Ô’s property. And he wanted them out. Onto Highway 29, outside the gates. The gates were open, but they were not invited. The police administrator told him they’d see what they could do.
This would have made him feel better, but instead the dull sense of fear in his stomach rose up and morphed into anger when he saw the cameras turned toward him as he approached. This wastheirfault.
“Which one of you is from theDaily Mail?” Raffi asked with a false smile.
There were murmurs in the crowd. They parted to reveal a tall, skinny male photographer, wearing a fedora. “You Basil Wentworth?” Raffi asked.
The name had been burned into Raffi’s mind, and he was itching for a fight. He felt his fingers twitch with anxious excitement.
“No, Mr. Garabedian.” Raffi flinched at how the reporter knew who he was. “Just the photographer.”
Goddamn it. Well, one less reason to be thrown in jail today, he supposed.
Raffi stepped forward and said in a low, dangerous voice, only vaguely aware of the cameras being raised around him and the photographer, “Well, do me a favor and tell Basil to gofuckhimself.” Raffi punched a finger in the man’s chest as he emphasized those last words.
Then he turned on his heel and walked into his winery. He should have been feeling better, and maybe the anger had somewhat dissipated, but the anxiousness, slow and spreading, still remained.
He needed to see his girl. Was she still his? Goddamn it, he should have waited until after the wedding to sleep with her. He just couldn’t wait, could he? Now she was feeling insecure again after this news about the debt. It was obviously a very big deal for her, and he wanted to be there to support her through it. If she would just let him.
An hour flew by as he threw himself into work, ensuring all the details Ani had left for him were exactly as she wanted them. He would do his part, at least, to keep this wedding running smoothly. One by one the vendors arrived, transforming the space from peaceful to opulent. When flowers arrived asplanned, they enveloped the space in showy, romantic beauty that almost sent a shiver through him. They truly were a work of art. He breathed a sigh that that hurdle had passed.
In the next hour, police came by and negotiated with the photographers, reporters, and Raffi to get everyone to a happy medium. Thankfully, Raffi had a map of his private property and was able to kick out the opportunists to the sidelines. They landed on the edge of the highway just outside his property lines. Their best shots now would be of Grace and Kami (and Ani) behind tinted windows. He’d protected Ani from more photos, which wasn’t everything, but it was one small step.
Good luck, fellas, he thought as he strode back up the hill.
Shortly after, the limos arrived for Kami and Grace’s first look photos. And with them, he knew, would be Ani.
Raffi stood at the entrance of the winery, waiting to welcome everyone in, with the ulterior motive of keeping a lookout for Ani.
The brides—his ex and a now-major celebrity—exited, but he did not feel a thing until he saw Ani emerge. Her mere presence filled him with a fizzing energy, but it was extinguished when he read the pain on her face. How she would hardly meet his eye. Then panic rushed into his heart, and he had to go get a glass of water to keep from feeling faint.
When he returned, he watched Ani flutter about, straightening Kami’s veil, ushering bridesmaids here and there, and chatting with the photography team. She had set up the first look about thirty yards away from the winery, and Raffi couldn’t help but follow.
Ani stood behind a tree, out of the way of thephotographers, watching Kami and Grace. Raffi stepped up to her, and she turned when she heard him approach.
“Hi,” she said sadly.
And with just that one word, Raffi felt the hope inside him crack—small at first, like the hairline fracture of glass, but spreading fast, threatening to shatter. The fragile belief that whatever had been weighing on Ani, whatever had made her say she needed time to think, wasn’t about them. Wasn’t going to pull them apart.
And now, here she was, standing in front of him, her voice steeped in sadness, her eyes holding so much heaviness—and that hope felt dangerously close to slipping away.
But he wouldn’t let it.
Whatever was breaking, he’d mason it back together with whatever he had. Patience. Reassurance. Love.
He just had to figure out what, exactly, needed fixing.
He reached out and held her hand. She held it back, but there was a limpness to it. This contrasted so strongly with how she had rushed around Ô right before this, getting everyone and everything lined up perfectly.
“I want you to know you’re rocking it. Today is going to be perfect because of you.”
She shrugged. “We’ll see. There are still hours to go, and so much could go wrong.”
“Well, if it does, it won’t be anything you overlooked, I know that.”
She smiled at him, somewhat more warmly now. “Thank you.”
