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god help me, he's still my type [21+]
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2026-10-17 23:15:03
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Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi peace was nice while it lasted
We stopped at a red light a few minutes later.I was halfway through reading a notification from Dianna when Rafael's hand slid from my thigh to my chin, his fingers gently turning my face toward him.“El?”He didn't answer. He just leaned across the console and kissed me, his lips warm and soft against mine, with that familiar hint of pressure that always made me forget whatever I'd been about to say.I caught the faint taste of his coffee, felt his thumb brush along my jaw, and God, I hated how easily he could get to me. He wasn't even trying particularly hard, just kissing me slowly enough that I found myself leaning into him, wanting another second before he pulled away.I smiled against his mouth and grabbed the front of his shirt, keeping him close because there was no way I was letting him start something like that and then leave looking so pleased with himself.Of course, the asshole smiled against my lips.By the time he finally pulled back, I still had a fistful of his colla
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi for what it's worth
Claire added a few more details about how special requests had been handled on the night of the event. Items arriving from vendors could be received by the production team before being forwarded to guest services, especially when they involved last-minute guest needs.Usually, that sort of thing was incredibly boring.Extra place cards.Name changes.Gift bags that needed to be moved to specific tables.Documents that had to be delivered to someone before dinner.I'd handled hundreds of similar situations over the years running GALA.None of it seemed suspicious until someone used that exact same system to send me my chilidren’s full legal names.“Does the front desk always check what's inside an envelope?” I asked.“Not if the envelope is sealed and the recipient is specifically identified,” Claire answered. “It depends on the type of request and the instructions from production.”“So they might've simply received a sealed envelope addressed to Mrs. Ricciardi and passed it along.”“T
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi what we thought we knew
“Anyway,” I turned back to Axel, “before we turn this into a reunion for the entire Stanford faculty, I'd like to see the door leading to guest services.”“Right this way.” Axel chuckled and nodded.We walked farther down the corridor, passing through a door Martin opened with his access card. Beyond it was a wider hallway with several empty carts along one side and a door leading to the pantry area.Axel stopped near a corner. “This is the route catering uses to move supplies from the preparation area to the service room near the ballroom. Production crews can also use this passage, depending on their access level.”I looked down the corridor ahead of us. “If someone was carrying an envelope, they wouldn't need a cart or have to come through the main loading bay.”“No,” Martin answered. “If they had the proper access, they could simply walk through the service entrance like any other staff member.”I nodded.We continued until Axel opened the last door, and suddenly the mansion's int
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi a beautifully inconvenient intersection
The drive to the Whitcomb mansion took a little over twenty minutes, depending on how much San Francisco happened to hate drivers at that particular hour.Rafael drove himself, something he didn't always do when we attended formal events, while a black SUV followed at a discreet distance.I sat in the passenger seat, going through Marie's notes on my tablet.Whitcomb had confirmed our limited site review, with the facilities manager accompanying Axel and the event coordinator joining us when we examined the guest services workflow. They'd also stated that the access records related to the event were still under review and couldn't be copied or distributed without authorization.Good. At least someone there understood the concept of information security.“Did Marie send over her questions?” Rafael asked as we stopped at an intersection.I nodded. “Yeah. I want to check the route from the service entrance to guest services, who handled special requests, and whether temporary production
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi all the ways he quietly stays
I stared at Rafael for a few seconds, waiting to see if he'd reconsider his last statement or at least offer an explanation that didn't sound like a board of directors' decision.Of course not.The man stood beside the sofa, slipping his car keys into his pants pocket before turning to Al, who was trying to balance a plastic dinosaur on the armrest.“Al, take that down before it falls.”“It won't.”The dinosaur immediately fell.I raised an eyebrow.Rafael looked at his son.Al stared at the dinosaur now lying on the rug, then picked it up. “He wanted to jump.”I finished the last bite of my cake, set the plate on the table, and stood to retrieve the heels I'd taken off earlier.“Fine,” I told Rafael. “You can drive me. But I'm the one talking to Axel and the Whitcomb people.”“I never said otherwise.”“And don't turn a site review into a security inspection without telling me.”“No one's planning to do that.”I stared at him. “Rafael.”He met my gaze with an infuriatingly calm expres
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi old flames and new floor plans
I slowly lowered my fork.Oh shit.. because out of every architect in California, apparently the entire world had exactly one man I'd dated for almost two years who now happened to be professionally responsible for the building corridors that might be connected to a threatening envelope involving my children.Very efficient.And I felt Rafael's thumb, resting against my ankle, pause for a moment at the mention of Axel's name.Just for a moment.Then he went back to massaging my foot.“Axel worked on the east wing,” I told Dianna. “He mentioned the project when we ran into each other at the Whitcomb event.”Dianna nodded. “Right. The facilities manager said Axel might be able to explain the differences between the original service layout and the routes being used after the renovation. They're checking which documents they can release to us.”I picked up my phone from the table. “Good. Tell Marie to wait for official confirmation from Whitcomb. We don't need access to the entire renovat
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi Sunlight and Divorce Papers
I woke up because the sun slapped me in the face. White-gold light speared through the thin curtains, landing directly on my eyelids that had never volunteered to become solar panels. I blinked slowly, trying to gather the pieces of my soul scattered across the sheets.The clock on the nightstand r
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi He Never Chose Me
“Wow,” I said at last, closing the door behind me with a soft click. “I thought you were still busy having a reunion with your ex.”His gaze dropped for a second, traveling down my body. From the thin heels, to my bare legs, to where the dress cinched at my waist, to the neckline that was bold enou
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi Platinum Barbie
Seven p.m., and Lake Como looked like an expensive postcard that had been photographed to death. Deep blue, almost black. Villa lights scattered messily across the water. A thin veil of fog hovering low, like a cheap Instagram filter no one bothered to turn off.From the study window facing the lak
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi The Wife
The small pan hissed softly as the oil heated, the sharp scent of roughly crushed garlic already filling the kitchen before I realized I was humming. Fuck.A Shakira song.Wildly off-brand for this morning’s mood, which had gone to hell at five twelve a.m. sharp, when Arsen, the technological basta
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