Raffi watched her swallow, the tiny bump on her throat bob up and down. He’d pushed, possibly too far, but Ani wasn’t running.
“Apology accepted,” she whispered. Then, somewhat louder but still sounding unsure of herself, she said, “I—I need to go. Get this stain out. The sooner the better.”
An idea hit him then, and it was delicate, so he needed to make sure he didn’t sound like the scallywag she suspected he was. “Why don’t you take care of it here? In the kitchens. We probably have whatever cleaners you need.”
Ani raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “And what would I wear in the meantime? Bra and panties?”
Now Raffi visibly swallowed. He didn’t know how she’dtake this, but it was the best idea he had. “We have T-shirts. Men’s XL would fit like a dress on you.”
Ani appeared to consider it, looking away from him. “Fine. Do you have salt? Dishwashing liquid?”
His spirits lifted. She was going to stay. “Check and check.”
She followed him back to the office without a word. The bass of the music from the main room pumped against the walls while Raffi crouched down to open a box of Ô T-shirts he’d had made. He dug through until he found a men’s XL and handed it to Ani.
She was a sight in the bright lights of the office, arms crossed over her stained dress, made up to the nines, those chunky high heels making her legs look so taut. He wanted to get back down on his knees and—
No, no, he wouldn’t let his mind go there. Too tempting. Too much wine. He had to restrain himself.
Ani eyed him and shook her head slightly.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re going to stand there while I change?”
Yes, preferably.
Raffi truly had to stop himself from blurting, “Is that an invitation?”
“Right, my bad.”
He stepped outside the door and waited, listening to the music and hoping his guests were all fine without him. He had no desire to go back out there. The only room he wanted to be in was the one with Ani. He was being a tutum kloukh, the soft insult his grandma would lob at anyone who did something silly. “Pumpkin head.” Hollowed out of all its guts, just an empty gourd making stupid decisions.
Honestly, he was still feeling honored that Ani had showed up at all. His winery was an hour plus away from San Francisco, where it seemed she lived. He wondered about it. Was she in an apartment? Did she live at home? What neighborhood? What were her favorite restaurants and shops? What did she do in her free time? Was she currently seeing anyone, casually dating, or what? He’d need to tap his Armenian gossip network to find out. Or stop being a coward and just ask her.
He’d distanced himself from the Armenian community somewhat once he started his book club transformation. The Hyes had seen too much. He realized how much of a bad rep he’d given himself after years of sleeping with the hotties of the Bay Area Armenian scene and not calling them back.Lala.He’d sent other apologies in addition to hers, but it still didn’t feel like enough.
The door opened a crack and Ani peeked out. “It’s a little shorter than I expected. Is anyone out there?”
“Not a soul.” Translation: Please come out so that I may see, for my eyes only.
“Okay. Let’s do this fast.”
She appeared in the hall, a white Ô printed on a long black shirt that skimmed her mid-thighs. The baggy shirt and her platform heels were quite a sight. He may have been a pumpkin head, but he was a pumpkin head who was currently leading a deadly sexy woman wearing only a T-shirt through the halls of his winery, so he considered that a win.
Ani had spread her burgundy-splotched dress over the countertop, and Raffi struggled not to imagine her in that dress, splayed across the stainless steel. He helped her straightenit out, and their fingers grazed for the shortest moment, which sent a rush through his body. He was really far gone. Every moment around Ani made him feel high out of his mind, in the best way. He didn’t want it to end.
Ani said, “Thanks for this. I don’t know if we’ll get it all out, but attacking early is our best shot. I really love this dress.”
Raffi was curious to see if it was a vintage or super valuable item he’d destroyed. He was slightly relieved to readZaraon the label, but then supposed it didn’t matter since Ani clearly adored it.
“I’m going to use a lot of salt. That okay?” she asked, almost as a challenge.
“Use the whole bucket if you need to.”
Before he could stop her and grab the container himself, she stood on her tiptoes to reach the salt on a high shelf, the bottom of her shirt lifted up. So high. Panty skimming. He could almost make out a color, possibly blue…
Heat climbed up his neck. He forced himself to look away, then grabbed a discarded dish towel and began folding it into a tidy trifold. He was a bit of a neat freak, yes, but more than anything it was crucial to have something, anything, to do besides stare.
