All Chapters of Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

162 Chapters

the father instinct, allegedly

We stepped into the private wing’s sitting area.And of course, because God apparently enjoyed watching me get tested, Rafael was standing there.Near the bookshelf. He had his phone in one hand, his jacket already off, his white shirt still crisp with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked over when we walked in.I stopped. “Of course,” I said. “Why not? Please. Come right into the Ricciardi-free zone.”One eyebrow moved. “This is a Ricciardi estate.”“And this room is a demilitarized zone. Read the contract in that expensive voice of yours.”“Rafa Lemon!” Gabby spotted Rafael, and her whole face lit up.Al looked at him with more suspicion, though not exactly unhappily. “You have grape jail.”Rafael slipped his phone into his pocket. “Vineyard.”“Grape jail,” Al repeated, more certain this time.Rafael looked at him for two seconds. “Fair.”I turned toward him quickly.No.Do not get along with them. Do not stand in the private wing with your sleeves rolled up, answering child

one bedroom, two terrible liars

It took twenty minutes to get their things settled.Gabby insisted her crown be placed on the nightstand at a “diplomatic” angle. Al hid a dinosaur under his pillow and said it wasn’t hiding, it was an ambush. Kendra started unpacking pajamas, snacks, toothbrushes, and the little bag of children’s medicine I’d forced her to bring even though we were only staying for the weekend, because I had once seen Al cough a single time and immediately entered my medical-attorney era.Rafael stayed.He just helped in the most annoying possible way because everything he did was right.When Gabby nearly knocked the hair clip box off the table, his hand caught it first. When Al tried to climb onto a chair to reach the top shelf, Rafael pulled the chair back slightly and said, “Use the stool.” When Kendra dropped a pack of wipes from the tote bag, Rafael picked it up and set it on the bathroom counter without making her feel like careless staff.Little things.The kind of little things that made stup

how wonderful, biological irony

Night fell over Napa in a way that was far too beautiful for a life currently suffering from a severe lack of manners.Outside the private wing, the vineyard had turned into a dark stretch of land traced with tiny lights in the distance, like someone had scattered jewelry across the ground and forgotten to pick it back up.From the terrace, the breeze carried the smell of wet grass, grapes, and lavender planted far too strategically so rich people could say, so peaceful, while hiding three family crises beneath linen table settings.I stood in the master suite bathroom for a few seconds after my shower, staring at my reflection in a mirror that was too large and far too honest.My hair was half wet, heavy like black fabric that had been washed wrong. My skin was still warm from the water, and my cheeks were still holding onto a little color I couldn’t entirely blame on the steam.I tried tying my hair up with one scrunchie.The scrunchie gave up after nine seconds.“This bitch,” I mut

delete denied

Saturday morning started with three people carrying hydrangeas past my bedroom window and Gabby knocking on the door like a cop with a warrant.“MAMI.”I opened one eye.“Mami.”I pulled the blanket higher.“Mami, this is emergency.”“That sentence is not allowed before there’s blood.”“There’s no blood.”“Then appeal denied.”The door opened anyway.Gabby walked in wearing the same lavender pajamas from last night, her crown already back on her head, and one of my fuzzy slippers dangling from her hand like evidence. Al appeared behind her with his whale shark tucked under one arm and hair that had rejected every known principle of gravity.“Kiki said you have party,” Gabby announced.“Charity luncheon.”“That’s party.”“No.”Al climbed onto the edge of the bed. “Can I come?”“No.”“Why?”“Because there’ll be media.”“I can hide.”“You once hid behind a curtain with your feet still sticking out.”“That was ambush.”“There will be no ambushes in front of donors.”Gabby moved closer to

easy smiles, difficult husbands

The man beside him, who had been pretending to be deeply interested in the vineyard, suddenly coughed.I smiled sweetly at Rafael. “Good. Keep it. If the police ever need evidence that you have a weird hobby, I’d like to contribute.”The corner of his mouth moved.Claudia appeared behind him before our conversation could turn into something that made the PR team start taking Xanax.“Guests are arriving.”I lowered my sunglasses over my eyes. “Wonderful. Time to monetize matrimony.”“Arabella,” Claudia said.“I know. Warmth. No overcorrection.”“Exactly.”“I hate that I know your motto by heart.”I started toward the lawn, and Rafael fell into step beside me, close enough that when we reached the guest area, his hand automatically settled at the small of my back.The touch was light, natural, and perfectly reasonable for the photos, so I didn’t make an issue of it.At least not until we had already passed the photographer’s position and his palm was still there, like he’d forgotten the

i wore ivory, you wore trouble

Rafael was already standing beside me, close, his hand unmistakable through the thin silk of my dress, with timing that probably looked smooth to anyone who didn’t know him.Sadly, I knew that Ricciardi man well enough to know he never showed up at exactly the right moment by accident.There was no photographer nearby. I knew because the official photographer was almost twenty yards away by the rose garden, taking pictures of two board members who looked like they were signing a peace treaty over rosé.Interesting.“Julian Mercer,” I said.“Rafael Ricciardi.”Julian held out his hand, and Rafael took it.They shook.“Congratulations,” Julian said again.“Thank you.”Rafael’s other hand was still at my waist.Julian looked at me. “Coffee. I’m serious.”“I’m sure her calendar is full,” Rafael said.I slowly turned my head. Excuse me?Julian looked at Rafael too, then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’m pretty sure Ara can speak for herself,” he said lightly.“Usually too much,

a little care, a lot of damage

By late afternoon, the estate had finally gone quiet.Well, not actually quiet.A place with twenty-four-hour staff was never completely silent. There was always a door closing softly somewhere, cart wheels rolling over the stone paths, the distant hum of a dishwasher from the service wing, security radios crackling far away.But the guests were gone.The photographer was gone.Claudia had gone back to the main house for a conference call.Valentina had disappeared with her tablet.Gabby and Al were inside the private wing with Kendra, doing something that, from a distance, sounded suspiciously like an argument over whether the whale shark was entitled to his own bedroom.I decided it wasn’t my problem until something caught fire.I sat alone on the back terrace.My heels were lying on the floor.Both of them.Not elegant.Didn’t care.My bare feet rested on stone that still held a little of the afternoon sun’s warmth, and I had already half-undone my hair. The heavy black strands fel

instinct got there first

Sunday morning was supposed to be the easiest part of the weekend.No luncheon, no donors wanting to discuss legacy while holding mimosas, no official photographer waiting for Rafael and me to walk close enough together to make the internet believe in the institution of marriage again.We weren’t scheduled to leave until after noon, so the private wing woke up slowly, Napa sunlight spilling through the tall windows, coffee drifting in from the pantry, and two four-year-olds who had already exhausted their tolerance for the concept of private.Gabby filed her official complaint over breakfast.“This place is boring now.”I looked up from my coffee. “Yesterday you called it a princess farm.”“It was exciting yesterday.”“The vineyard is still the same.”“But I already saw it from window.”“Congratulations. You completed Napa.”Gabby let out a long sigh hard enough to move the little bangs on her forehead, then rested her chin in her hand, her pink glitter crown still perched on hair Ken

the part of you that stayed

My brain simply drained all the blood from my face and sent one clean sentence through my head:My children were gone.“Gabby!” I took the two steps at once. “Alvaro!”My hand was already reaching for my phone when Rafael’s voice came from behind me.“What happened?”I turned too fast. “They got out.”His expression changed.Not much.That was what made it different.No stupid questions. No how. No blaming Kendra, who now looked like she might throw up.Rafael just walked down onto the path, his eyes already moving from the door to the hedge, to the gravel, to the areas hidden from view of the wing.“How long?”“Two, maybe three minutes,” Kendra said.“Gate?”“Locked. Security has it.”“Pool?”“Main pool is on the other side of the wing.”Rafael already had his phone out. “I’ll have security close every exterior exit without putting out a general alert.”I shook my head quickly. “Don’t send people running around. If Gabby sees security, she’ll think there’s a parade and follow them. If

this is what you missed

“Gabby stays here.” I pointed at the stone bench. “Sit. Do not move one centimeter.”“But Mami—”“Gabriella.”She sat down immediately.Rafael held onto the whale shark and looked toward the narrow path behind the hedge. “This isn’t the main path.”“Al would pick the one that looks like a shortcut.” I sighed.“Why?”“Because he’s male.”I pointed at Gabby. “If you move, that crown goes in the safe until college.”She looked genuinely horrified now. “I stay.”“Good.”We went down the narrow path.The ground changed from gravel to small stone pavers half-covered in ivy. A tall hedge ran along one side, rows of roses and lavender along the other, and then the path curved until the main house disappeared from view.“Alvaro!” I called.Rafael lifted one hand slightly.I stopped. “What?”He went still, his head tilting a little.Then I heard it.A small, broken sound, almost drowned out by trickling water somewhere around the bend.Crying.By the fountain.I moved toward the sound immediatel

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