Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
VIOLA
The last thing I want is anyone interrupting my time with him.
I feel as if we’re in our own little bubble. A kitchen fragrant with the smell of good food, smooth wine on my tongue, and the heat from his body. For once, the world outside feels far away. But of course, the phone has to ring and interrupt us.
I listen to Annie’s enthusiastic, breathless voice burst through the speaker. “Oh my God, Viola. I’m so glad I got you. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” I reply.
“Okay,” she squawks. “Oh, my God, Viola. Have you not heard the rumors?”
“What rumors?” I ask patiently.
“I uh… Everyone is saying you got married to the new Capo! I mean… It’s not true, is it? I told those gossipers no way. I mean, that would be a bit strange, wouldn’t it? And so soon after ... well…”
Her voice starts trailing off as she realizes the rumors are indeed correct.
I don’t want to engage in pointless pleasantries.
I just want the call to end. It’s clear now that everyone has sent Annie to find out what the hell is going on.
They’re using her as their scout because she’s the only one bold enough to call.
I slip straight back into my old stoic demeanor, the cool mask sliding on like it never left.
“It’s true,” I reply flatly. “It just happened. You know how things are.”
She goes quiet for several moments. “Why?”
“Why not?” I counter, irritation sharpening my tone before I can stop it. I’m surprised by my own reaction, the snap in my voice, the way my fingers tighten around the phone. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Ricci’s eye, and he winks at me.
“Oh! Well, anyway… I want to invite you for brunch. The committee of the Children’s Hospital Charity Gala at the Waldorf is gathering as usual to discuss our ideas for the event, and we’d love it if you could join us this year.”
I remember being invited the first year I was married to Salvatore.
It was the obligatory invitation extended to the new wife, but I refused.
I was polite, but I made it clear I wasn’t interested in being part of their circle of endless lunches and committee meetings.
After that, they never asked again. I liked it that way.
It kept me separate. Safe. Protected from their prying eyes and their venomous gossip.
I was the cold wife who stayed in the background. They preferred it. I preferred it.
But now the invitation is back, wrapped in Annie’s cheerful voice, and I know exactly why. Everyone wants the story. Everyone wants to know how the widow ended up married to the new Capo so fast.
I can almost picture them — the wives clustered together in some elegant sitting room, designer handbags in tow, whispering furiously, dying to know every salacious detail of how I ended up with Ricci.
The thought makes my stomach turn, and my first instinct is to reject it outright.
The word “no” is already automatically forming on my tongue, the same way I’ve turned down every other olive branch over the years.
But then I remember my sister’s words at my wedding.
If I don’t put out my side of the story, the whispers will keep flying around behind my back.
If I say no now and shut them out completely, it will only make them speculate even more.
The rumors will grow teeth. People will start inventing their own stories, and those stories could hurt my sister’s chance of finding a suitable husband.
I have to accept. “Sure,” I say, the word tasting strange on my tongue. “I’ll come.”
Annie squeals with excitement, the sound so loud and high-pitched I have to pull the phone slightly away from my ear. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I’ll send you all the details right away. We’re all so excited!”
I set the phone down on the counter with a soft click, and Ricci chuckles softly under his breath. I meet his gaze then, and his eyes are twinkling, the corners crinkled with real amusement. “You do realize that you just set the cat among the pigeons.”
And suddenly, I see the funny side of it and laugh. He laughs too, and the kitchen fills with our shared laughter.