Chapter 22
Agatha couldn’t help it. She kept glancing at her beautiful wife as they drove down the scenic roads of northern Italy.
Rio had her black Prada sunglasses on, her dark hair whipping around her from the wind sweeping past their heads due to the roof being down. There was a shine on her now olive forehead because of the day spent in the Italian sun. The shine was down to sweat but it made Rio glow just the same.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Harkness,” Rio told her after she’d stared at her a second too long and the car swerved.
“You’re distracting me,” Agatha replied, her eyes now on the road.
“By sitting next to you?”
“Yes.”
Rio laughed. “Something tells me we’re not going to the airport.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, we’ve been driving for three hours now, and it takes one and a half to get to Milan.”
Agatha gasped, feigning shock. “You worked that out super quicky, have you ever considered working for the FBI?”
Rio laughed again. “So, where are we going?”
Agatha tapped the side of her nose.
“You’re not gonna tell me?”
Agatha shook her head. “We’ve been driving for three hours now and it’s only now you’re asking where we’re going?”
“By hour one I still thought we were going to the airport, by hour two I thought you’d gotten lost and were taking another route, by hour three then my interest sparked.” Rio smiled, “I’ve learnt it’s best to be patient with you before you bite my head off.”
Agatha brought her hand to her heart as if she’d just been shot. “I would never bite your head off…it’s too pretty. Your arm on the other hand.”
Rio elbowed her as Agatha cackled.
She rested her hand on Rio’s thigh and squeezed. “You trust me?”
Rio leaned her head back on her headrest before turning to face her. “Unfortunately.”
“Perfect! Then you’ll love where we’re going,” Agatha smiled.
Rio returned it.
***
“Portofino?” Rio asked twenty minutes later as they made their way around yet another mountainside.
Agatha shrugged.
“You’re taking me to fucking Portofino?!” Rio shrieked.
Agatha just had to look at her now. She’d never seen Rio act like this, all excited and screaming like a preteen being told they were going to see their favourite artist in concert.
“Wait,” Rio eyed her suspiciously. “I only mentioned I wanted to go to Portofino once how did you remember?”
Agatha groaned. “Are you going to ask me that every time? You asked me how I knew your favourite Thai dish was Thai green curry the third time I ordered it for you, you asked me how I knew you bite your nails every time you have nothing to do, you asked me how I knew you have an impulse to squeeze any limb of mine you happen to be attached to every time you get nervous. I pay attention to you, Rio!” Agatha laughed.
Rio bit her lip. Had anyone ever paid this much attention to her before apart from her Abuela? No. No, they hadn’t.
“Thank you,” Rio replied softly.
“For…?”
“Making me feel like I’m not invisible.”
Agatha glanced at her before returning her eyes to the road. “You’re not invisible, Rio. Never in my eyes.”
Rio blushed and for the first time, she didn’t care.
“Are you blushing or is that sunburn?”
Rio threw her head back and laughed. “Using my own words against me, huh?”
“Of course,” Agatha smiled.
***
They were staying at the Splendido Portofino. A five-star hotel at the top of the mountain. Agatha had booked them a one-bedroom suite that looked out onto the sea. Their room was to die for.
Upon entering you were met with a long corridor that split off into a large bathroom with a large tub, mirrors and shower. Rio couldn't wait to get into that bath later. The rest of the doors opened to wardrobes.
Inside the suite itself was a king bed, a desk and some lounge chairs. Their balcony was right in front of the bed and Rio knew she would enjoy watching the sunset from it. The next room over had a couch, a dining table and a television.
Everything was Mediterranean style. Each wall was decorated with China plates with intricate Italian designs, paintings depicting sea shells, or Roman statues. Even the light fixtures looked like they’d been carved by fucking Michelangelo.
“You like?” Agatha asked as the bellboy rolled in their luggage.
“We’re in Portofino, I would’ve been happy with a tent. Yes, I like it! Are you serious?”
Agatha laughed. “Just checking.”
Rio had never stayed in a place this fancy outside of a mission. She often forgot her wife was not just her wife and was actually the daughter of multi-millionaire Patrick O’Connor. That she’d probably spent her whole life going to places like this. She wondered if the novelty had warn off on Agatha by now.
“How’d you get our luggage?”
“I told Luca to get it before he dropped the car off.”
“Ah.” Rio threw her head back. “I need to get in that bathtub and then I need a nap.”
Agatha tipped the bellboy after he finished putting away their luggage.
“You’re gonna have to pick one, we’ve got dinner reservations at eight.”
Rio blinked. “We do? How? We only found out we were getting some days off a few hours ago.”
Agatha shrugged. “I know people.”
“Yeah…I’m not gonna ask what that means.” Rio clapped her hands together. “Okay, I’m going to have a quick shower and try and squeeze in a nap.”
Agatha scoffed.
“What?” Rio frowned.
“You don’t take quick showers, Ri. Not after missions.”
Rio wanted to ask how she knew that but then remembered what her wife had told her earlier. I pay attention to you, Rio.
“I can.”
“Okay,” Agatha laughed.
***
Two hours later the two wives were sat by the sea watching the sunset. Their wine glasses full as they waited for their food.
Rio, as always, looked stunning in a cream-shear mini dress that ruffled at the ends and on the straps on her shoulders. It had a low neckline and although the dress wasn’t completely see-through, Agatha could still make out the outline of her underwear. A move she definitely knew was on purpose.
Rio wasn’t wearing much makeup, her glowing skin from her day in the sun meant it wasn’t necessary.
Agatha on the other hand was wearing a long fitted lilac satin dress that accentuated her chest. Again, a move done on purpose.
The two wives were playing with fire tonight.
“You look good,” Rio told her.
Agatha laughed. “Why thank you. It isn’t like this is the seventh time you’ve told me since we left the hotel room.”
“I see it, so I’m saying it. What did you do to your hair?”
Agatha tucked a strand behind her ear. “I just defined the curls.”
“You should do it more often.”
Agatha shook her head. “You know how much hair I have. It takes forever.”
“I’ll do it!” Rio replied hastily.
Agatha chuckled.
“What?” Rio said, shrinking into herself embarrassed.
“Any excuse to touch my hair.”
Rio straightened at that, finding her confidence once more. “And what about it?”
Agatha laughed again, “Nothing at all.”
Twenty minutes later the two women were deep into their bowls of pasta whilst Rio was scolding Agatha for never watching any of the Spider-Man films.
“But you love films!”
“Yeah…so?”
“Sooo…why haven’t you watched any of the Spider-Mans?”
“I’m not the biggest fan of superhero movies.”
Rio gasped. “You take that back!”
Agatha shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry.”
“But Nicky loves Spider-Man. Why haven’t you watched it with him?”
Nicky loves Spider-Man.
Agatha couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. The pair had really taken a liking to one another. They started talking about more than Spanish. The FaceTime would always start that way, a Spanish lesson, and then Rio and her son would divert to an entirely different topic. Like how Nicky should become a baker because the chocolate chip cookies he made were ‘phenomenal’ (Rio’s words). And Nicky had asked what that meant and Rio had told him, and then the topic would change again because Nicky would start asking what other words also meant phenomenal.
In the two days after they had made up, when Nicky would call, he would ask for Rio straight away, ‘Hi Mama, where’s Rio? I’ve got to show her what I made at school.’ Agatha thought it should sting that her son would rather talk to her wife than her. It didn't.
It, like everything did when involving Rio, felt so easy, so (she didn’t want to say normal) normal. As if this had been their entire life together. Sometimes Agatha wished it could’ve been. She was sure half the fucked up shit that happened to her wouldn’t have if Rio were in her life.
“Oh, trust me. He’s tried. I usually distract him by suggesting we do something else I know he’ll like more.”
Rio threw her head back and laughed. “Mother of the year.”
Agatha winked at her. “Okay,” she took a sip of her wine. “If you could live anywhere in the world other than New York, where would you live?”
“Hmm,” Rio sat back and pondered. “Australia,” she said moments later.
Agatha nodded for her to elaborate.
“Well, it’s hot most of the time, and if I lived in say…Sydney, I could swim every day. They’ve got plants and spiders and-”
“I’m sorry…spiders?”
“Mhm. One time on a mission there I had a day off, so I went to the zoo and got to hold a tarantula. It was all fury, and it crawled up my arm and I swear there is no better feeling.”
Agatha blinked at her. “…Then a spider crawling up your arm?”
“Tarantula,” Rio corrected.
“You are so strange.”
“Thank you,” Rio replied as if she’d just been given the world's best compliment.
Agatha let out a low chuckle.
“What about you? Where would you live?”
“Anywhere my mother isn’t,” Agatha answered easily. “If it weren’t for Nicky I would’ve left New York a long time ago.”
Rio stared at her and Agatha realised this was the first time she’d mentioned her mother. She knew Rio had some idea of who her mother was, she’d googled her a million times after all, but Rio had never asked her about her.
She appreciated it.
“You don’t get along?” Rio asked although it appeared she already knew the answer.
Agatha shook her head before taking a long gulp of her wine. She needed it if they were about to have the abusive mother conversation.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Rio said before she returned to eating the pasta on her plate. An indicator she was dropping the conversation.
Thank god for that.
Agatha knew it was a conversation they needed to have, but not when they were eating dinner by the sea in Italy and Rio looked like that. There were more important things to be focusing on.
Okay, time to switch gears.
Agatha sipped her wine preparing to do just that when Rio spoke first:
“Just out of curiosity…how many people have you slept with?”
Agatha raised her eyebrows over her wine glass. She pulled it away from her lips and asked, “You want to know?”
Rio poked at her pasta. “Yeah?” She posed it as a question as if she were unsure.
“Are you sure? Do you want me to be completely honest with you right now?”
Rio looked at her for the first time since she asked the question. “Yeah,” her voice found its confidence again. “Yeah, be honest with me.”
Agatha didn’t know if she was being baited. Sure, they’d agreed to be honest and communicate with each other from now on, but Agatha had slept with a lot of people. Not all of them she could remember because she was too high or drunk or both.
“More than fifty.”
Not a lie, not a complete truth. She knew it was nearing the eighties.
Rio blinked at her, “I…that…good for you.”
Agatha laughed. “They don’t call me the ‘Whore of St Ives’ for nothing,” she teased.
To her surprise, Rio smiled.
“You said you use it as a coping mechanism…is it just that?”
Agatha had to think about it. “I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I enjoy sex, but sometimes I think I’m doing it for the wrong reasons. To distract myself, out of boredom, to make a headline that will hopefully send my mother into an early grave.”
Dammit. She was talking about her mother again.
Rio nodded, her face void of judgment.
“I’ve…I’ve only slept with four people.”
She was letting Agatha know as if to say she wasn’t as experienced. Agatha doubted that. Rio was breathtaking, she’d undoubtedly been in a relationship before. She knew the other woman had some tricks up her sleeve.
She gasped in fake shock. “You’ve slept with people outside of marriage? I am so shocked.”
Rio laughed before kicking her under the table.