His hands alighted to both her shoulders. “I believe in us, too.”
Raffi bent forward, drawn like a tide, and kissed her. A quiet agreement, a whispered promise between them, that Raffi was sure, in that moment, nothing could break.
23
Ani
Despite her beliefin herself, things werenotgoing according to plan.
A few weeks later, Grace’s star had only grown. The trailer forMafia Princesshad dropped, and the internet had exploded—fans dissecting every frame, memes flooding social media, and hashtags trending worldwide. Every magazine and newspaper seemed to feature her, whether it was a glossy cover story or a breathless think piece about her meteoric rise, with headlines like “Lights, Camera, Zhang: The Overnight Stardom ofMafia Princess’s Leading Lady.” Even the phrase “Zhang effect” was taking hold, with people talking about how social media could cement stardom before a movie was even released.
Ani and Sanan had held a call with Grace and Kami during which Grace had briefly discussed it. She didn’t mind the paparazzi but preferred they not be on the premises the day of the wedding. That was something new Ani would have to figure out. This might be the one and only time she had to.
Ani was at her parents’ house in San Mateo with her sister,Talar, and Talar’s husband, Nshan. Her parents had made lunch together: eech, tabbouleh, and vospov kuftes because they were currently on a vegan diet. “We enjoyed it so much at Lent,” her mother had told her, “that we decided to make it permanent.” So apparently they had fish on Fridays and were vegan all the other days. And of course they cooked all their meals together in true romantic fashion.
The five of them gathered comfortably in her parents’ family room, sitting on the long L-shaped couch, eating lunch and watching an Armenian soap opera Ani’s mom had gotten into. Ani, regrettably, could hardly understand the Eastern Armenian dialect, so her mother acted as a live translator.
“That means ‘celebratory,’ ” her mother said. She held up a notepad where she’d written down words that were new to her. “See, I am studyingEasternnow. Your mother is going to be a master of both our languages.”
Her mother worked at Nordstrom in the cosmetics department, but because, as she claimed, she had no children in the house to cook for and no grandchildren to watch, she had no choice but to watch copious amounts of Armenian TV in her spare time.
Ani had almost finished her plate when she got the call.
“Hello, is this Annie Uh-vak-ean?” the voice of an older woman demanded.
Ani stood and bumped into Talar’s knees on her way out of the room, Talar rubbing them dramatically and putting on a mock-hurt face. Ani replied, “Yes, this is. May I ask who is calling?”
“This is Jeannie Tilde,” said the voice, “of Tilde Florists in Napa Valley.”
Ani swallowed hard. Jeannie herself, the legendary owner of the fanciest florist in Napa, was calling her. And she soundedpissed.
“Jeannie, an honor to hear from you. Could I please ask why you’re calling?”
Her pulse was already racing. Had Kami gone rogue and called up the florist requesting changes? Ani paced down the hall to the bedrooms, absently viewing family photos on the walls.
“Well, I wish I could say I returned the sentiment, but after I heard what had happened from Madison, I had to call you up myself to talk tothemost unprofessional wedding planner I’ve ever encountered.”
Me?Ani wondered.Was Jeannie talking about me?She quickly racked her brain for any interaction with the florists that could have been construed as inappropriate. She had called them a week ago to confirm their mega-order, had spoken with Madison, and all had gone well. The deposit was paid, the details were correct, and her conversation had been cordial. So why…?
Ani drew up her courage and said, “I’m sorry, Jeannie, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding?”
Jeannie scoffed. “You’re damn right there’s been a misunderstanding. What planner calls to confirm the details and then a week latercancels the entire order?!”
Ani’s stomach dropped, a cold wave of dread washing over her as she gripped the phone tighter. Her palms were slick with sweat, and she could feel her heartbeat thudding in herears. Canceled? How could the order have been canceled? She hadn’t spoken to them or made any type of contact in a week.
“I…Wha—” Ani started to say, but Jeannie wasn’t through.
“After we spent significant time and expense ordering the absolute bushel of flora that was requested. Do you think it was easy, securing ranunculus at this time of year?”
“Jeannie,” Ani dared to interrupt. “I’m so sorry, but I didn’t cancel the order—”
A photo of Ani, Talar, and her parents in a photo studio from the early 2000s, complete with questionable millennium fashion such as Ani’s dress over a pair of jeans, stared at her as she attempted to process this conversation.
“Sure you’re sorr— Wait, excuse me, what? Yesterday, Madison spoke to a young woman who said with conviction that the entire Mardian-Zhang order was to be canceled, lock, stock, and barrel. ‘Your services are no longer required.’ Those were the exact words.”
Ani’s mouth dropped open but nothing came out. A young woman. Who…? Because it wasn’t her. Her mind raced, scrambling for answers.
Was it Sanan? Maybe there’d been some miscommunication and Sanan thought she had to cancel? But no, that didn’t make sense. Sanan would never do something like that, even accidentally. She dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s. Or…Kami—had she spiraled again, panicked about some detail, and canceled everything in a moment of impulsivity? Ani’s chest tightened at the thought. Linen colors were one thing, but there was no way she’d cancel the entire flower order. Ani would check anyway.
