All Chapters of Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

84 Chapters

pistachio survived the crash

“Your kids were outside for eleven minutes.”I narrowed my eyes. “You counted?”“Yes.”“Of course. Very normal.”“I was sitting here.” He gestured toward the chair and table area. “The glass door stayed in sight. They didn’t go near the water. My security is outside the fence, not inside the property. No one entered the house. No photos. No violations of your clauses.”I froze for half a second.He had already prepared a legal defense. This man was genuinely a disease in cufflinks.“And the gelato?” I asked.“Not a contract violation.”“That depends on the amount of sugar.”“Mami.” Gabby immediately pulled her cup closer to her chest.“Don’t Mami me with your hands full of strawberry crime.”“It’s raspberry.”“Pink is a general hazard.”Al held his tiny spoon out toward Rafael. “Mine is chocolate. It’s strong.”“Very strong,” Rafael answered with full gravitas, as if Al had just explained an acquisition strategy.“Whale shark got vanilla,” Al added.I looked at the tiny empty cup in f

no dragon, no castle, no peace

At exactly seven, I finally looked like a human being who could leave the house without making the neighbors call social services.Not a masterpiece. Don’t be dramatic. I was only wearing a simple black dress that fell a little below my knees, with delicate sleeves and a neckline that was respectable but not respectable enough to make me feel like I’d given up on life. My makeup was light. A thin layer of foundation, a little blush, mascara, and nude rose lipstick I’d chosen because the color said I was emotionally stable, even though my entire personality tonight consisted of small lies and one pistachio gelato sitting on the middle shelf of my fridge.I twisted my hair into a low bun at the back of my head, neat enough for a Ricciardi family dinner, loose enough that if I needed to escape through a window, no hairpin would stab me in the brain.I stood in front of my bedroom mirror for three seconds. “Okay,” I muttered to my reflection. “You’re beautiful. You’re expensive. You are n

this is why we don’t ask questions

I pointed at him. “Do not teach philosophy classes in my house.”Al climbed off the sofa, picked up his whale shark, then looked at Rafael. “You eat dinner too?”“Not tonight.”“Why?”“Because your mother and I have to go.”Al looked at me suspiciously. “Princess dinner?”“Family dinner,” I said.“Boring?”“Very possible.”Gabby let out a long sigh. “Then why you pretty?”“Because Mommy doesn’t let boredom win.”Gabby seemed satisfied with that answer. She grabbed Al’s hand and dragged him toward the kitchen. Al nearly tripped over his whale shark, then immediately yelled that it wasn’t his fault, the floor had attacked him.Kendra appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing an apron, her hair tied back messily, a streak of sauce on one cheek, and the expression of a woman who had seen the future and discovered a lot of dirty dishes waiting there.“Dinner’s safe,” she told me. “Pasta, chicken, vegetables I hid in the sauce. If they ask, those are not vegetables. They’re green confetti.”“

the things he forgot to forget

Something inside my body kicked the wall. I looked at him for one second too long, then turned toward the window.San Francisco slid past the glass, cold and beautiful. People walked along the sidewalks in coats, carrying paper bags, laughing outside wine bars, living in a world where questions from Italian men couldn’t dismantle the genealogy of small children just because they liked gelato.“Because they’re invasive,” I sighed. “Like a tax audit. All kids feel familiar once they’ve invaded your personal space and judged your morals.”“That’s not it.”Damn it.I sighed, then adjusted the clutch in my lap. “Maybe because they’re comfortable with you.”“Why?”“You’re asking like I have their manual.”“You’re their mother.”“Exactly why I know there is no manual. There are two tiny creatures, one crown, one whale shark, and a lot of negotiating with God.”Rafael kept looking at me.I could feel his gaze even without returning it. A small heat against the side of my face. Like back in La

Polite Lies and Italian Muscle Memory

The car slowed in front of the black iron gates, and I immediately regretted the entire chain of decisions that had brought me here.Not marrying the same man twice. That was obviously sitting comfortably at number one, but tonight I was trying to focus on the more recent mistake.Texting Iris.The gates opened slowly. Two security officers stood on either side of the driveway, far enough away that it didn’t feel like a military checkpoint, close enough to remind me that the Ricciardi family probably considered “private family dinner” and “perimeter control” two parts of the same religious ritual.Their family home appeared beyond the tall trees, light from the windows cutting through the foggy San Francisco night. Pale stone, tall windows, wide steps leading to the front door, the whole place carrying the energy of a house inherited along with stock, trauma, and a set of silverware that had probably witnessed Mussolini.I knew this place. I knew the curve of the driveway. I knew ther

Everyone Is Acting Normal. Poorly.

I looked down to adjust my bracelet because I was dangerously close to laughing in front of everyone.Rafael looked at his aunt with a cold expression. “Tia.”“What?” Aunt Claudia shrugged. “I’m just saying, you’re very protective for a man who’s just met her.”The room instantly turned into a museum full of people who had suddenly become deeply interested in flowers, paintings, the floor, their drinks, the afterlife, anything except Rafael’s face.I looked up.Rafael wasn’t looking at Claudia anymore. He was looking at me. I hadn’t even taken off my coat yet and we’d already created exhibits A through D.“Maybe,” I said quietly to him, “I should’ve asked for tequila first.”“No.”“You don’t know that I’m safer with tequila.”“I’m starting to doubt that.”“I’m more fun.”“I don’t need you to be more fun.”There was something in that sentence. Rafael didn’t do sweet without making it sound like a business threat. But the words landed between us, low and strange, making the air around m

He Keeps Noticing

The Ricciardi family’s private dining room was still the same in a way that felt unfair.A long polished walnut table stretched through the center of the room. Low candles. White and green flowers down the middle, not tall enough to block anyone’s view while they murdered each other with polite sentences. Crystal glasses, silver cutlery, small name cards written in black ink. A small wine rack lined one wall purely for decoration, because the real wine was obviously kept in a cellar probably guarded by a man named Luca or Giuseppe with an earpiece and a military past.I sat beside Rafael.My name card read: Arabella Ricciardi.I stared at it for one second.Rafael followed my gaze. “Problem?”I picked up the card and straightened it slightly. “No. Just making sure your family’s ink doesn’t bite.”“Ricciardi ink rarely bites.”“Rarely isn’t never.”“True.”He pulled my chair out slightly as I sat, like it was automatic. I didn’t thank him because that would’ve felt too intimate.He sta

Intuition, Apparently

Xander choked on his wine.Actually choked.Iris immediately slapped his back a little too hard. “Slow down.”Xander coughed, his face red, but his eyes were watering from holding back laughter. “The chef,” he said hoarsely, “is very spiritual.”“He’s worked for this family for twenty years,” Rafael’s Mama added quickly. “His intuition is excellent.”“Amazing,” I said. “I’ve always relied heavily on the paranormal abilities of kitchen staff too.”Rafael looked at me.I picked up the small spoon and cut into the cake. The center was soft. Warm. The chocolate was dark, not too sweet.Exactly right.I put it in my mouth and hated how good it was.Nonna looked at me.I looked at Nonna.Something passed between us, like an old hand briefly touching my back from across the table and saying, eat, stupid girl, you need your strength to lie.I swallowed. “It’s good,” I said.Nonna nodded. “Good.”Rafael was still looking at my plate. “The chef guessed all of that?”“Our chef pays very close at

System Error

Dinner finally ended close to midnight, because even rich Italians have biological limits before they start confessing too much under the influence of 1998 Barolo.The private dining room slowly began to empty. The crystal glasses that had caught the candlelight earlier now only held traces of lipstick, the silver cutlery lay defeated beside the plates, and the white-and-green flowers in the center of the table were still standing beautifully, like they hadn’t just witnessed eighty-seven subtle lies in one room.I stood there with a social smile that was beginning to crack around the edges.Nonna tried to offer me espresso, then some kind of almond biscotti she claimed “just happened to be there,” and I nearly looked at Iris like, if your grandmother serves me one more thing that magically matches my emotional history, I’m going to start digging a bunker under the table.Iris caught my look and immediately stood. “It’s late,” she said too quickly. “Arabella must be tired.”Nonna mutte

One Bite From Disaster

I was thinking way too seriously for a woman who had just survived an Italian family dinner when my stomach growled.Quietly.But inside the silent, expensive car, it sounded like a public announcement.I froze.Rafael didn’t move.I stared straight ahead. “Your suspension is weird.”“Mm.”“Seriously. I heard something.”“From the suspension.”“Yes.”“In your stomach.”I turned toward him. “This car is incredibly arrogant if it’s started accusing its passengers’ organs.”He didn’t embarrass me. Didn’t laugh. Didn’t even look at me for too long. He just turned on the blinker and made a turn at the next intersection.I immediately got suspicious. “Where are we going?”“You’re hungry.”“I didn’t say that.”“Your stomach filed official paperwork.”Five minutes later, we stopped in front of a small pizza place that was still open late.Its name glowed in half-dead red neon above the window: Vito’s Slice & Espresso. Very San Francisco in a confusing way. Inside, the lights were bright, the

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