Bile rose up Raffi’s throat, and he had to hold it back. “Barely counted.” That’s what she called someone she had told she loved? “We barely counted.” There. The proof he needed that he’d always been correct in writing off Kami. If only he could throw her off his property right now.
Except.
Kami’s family were nearly billionaires. And she, ostensibly, wanted to have her wedding on his property. With heractress fiancée, who could bring publicity to the winery and potentially change everything for Ô.
Grudgingly, he decided to tuck away her comment and hear out her, Grace, and Ani.
Kami turned to Grace. “Seriously, babe, you okay with all this?”
Grace gazed at her adoringly. “Of course. We’re adults here. I’m not bothered in the least, as long as everyone else is cool, too.”
Raffi shrugged with a side smile—fine with him. Ani, seeming to realize she needed to respond, shook herself and gave two awkward thumbs-up.
The two brides then kissed—rather affectionately for a business meeting, Raffi might add.
The blood had now drained from Ani’s face, and she turned pale, with a slightly green pallor to her skin. Raffi felt the need to comfort her somehow, even as the barbs from her earlier words still stung. He wanted to take away her pain—tsavt danem in Armenian.
Raffi coughed, then asked, “Should we get the tour started?”
Ani whirred to life. “Great idea,” she said, seemingly relieved, her voice not nearly as bold as it had been when she’d accused Raffi of being an asshole. Which he had been.
Ani walked and began chatting, slowly coming back into herself, growing taller.
He noticed she was still holding the empty matcha latte cup. “I’ll take that,” he said, and regretted how haughty his voice had come out. He’d meant to sound helpful, but he’d ended up condescending. Still, he ducked into the building, tossed it into a trash can, and rejoined this motley crew.
Ani pulled her phone out of her tote bag, turned her back to Raffi—almost pointedly—and began taking photos of the grounds. In doing so, she had also given Raffi a breathtaking view of her ass, her pencil skirt hugging every last curve. The desire that overcame him when he first saw her announced itself again, loud and clear. God help him, he would not fuck the wedding planner.
Not that she’d ever want to, after the awful way he’d acted.
“Such pretty scenery,” Kami cooed.
“I know,” Grace said, admiring Kami in her flowy white dress, with a deep V cut showing a lace bralette underneath.
“The wedding would have to be outdoors,” Raffi began, realizing this was the first time he was giving an aesthetic tour of the space and he was unprepared. Why hadn’t he thought ahead? He had studied the science of winemaking as much as possible last year, and had given tours of the wine cellar and production area to vendors, but now he tried to envision the space as a prospective couple—his ex-girlfriend and her wife-to-be—would view it.
He continued, leading them toward the garden, the most stunning space on the property.
“The guests could walk this way after they park. Ample parking, too, so that’s not a problem.”
Raffi could feel Ani scrutinizing him, and he could tell that she could tell that this was his first rodeo.
The idea of hosting events at Ô hadn’t even occurred to him until Ani inquired about the wedding. That’s when he’d checked out her site and started to question whether her aesthetic aligned with his vision for the winery. He did regret his careless words, though. And not just because she had slammedhim for it. His entire body had itched after his dad’s comment, after Sevan’s shirt was ruined, and he just…let it out. A dumb move.
Plus, Kami’s glee in hiring Ani had to signify her confidence in the wedding planner. She obviously trusted Ani. So if Grace and Kami wanted to hire her, that was fine with him. He didn’t want to pick linens. Well, okay, he kind of did; he didn’t hate that stuff.
They approached the garden, where the air smelled faintly of rosemary, and someone among the three women gasped, probably Kami. “I knew your dad had bought the winery, Raffi, but this is even prettier than the photos.” She sighed.
Raffi was especially lucky with the timing of this tour because the handful of cherry trees were blossoming, their pink flowers blushing on their branches and sprinkling the grass like confetti.
Grace turned to Raffi. “I wanted to get married at an Armenian venue since I know how important Mimi’s Armenianness is to her, then your place popped up when I straight up googled ‘Armenian wineries’ and I had this feeling.”
“It’s going to be damn nice in the fall. Actual leaves on all the grapevines, turning yellow and red. You said in your email you were thinking of a September wedding?” he asked Ani.
“Yes,” Ani and Kami said at the same time. Ani stiffened.
“What about catering?” Ani asked. “Do you have a kitchen that can support catering staff?”
He…thought so? He had no idea, honestly.
