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if this burns, at least i’ll be well dressed
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2026-09-21 18:06:33
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Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi as it turns out
Oh, Jesus.I turned.Nonna Lucia was getting up from the sofa near the window with the help of her silver cane, although I was pretty sure the woman didn't actually need it to stand.She wore a navy dress with a pearl necklace and a small brooch on her shoulder, her white hair perfectly styled, and an expression that told me I was about to stand trial for several family-related offenses.“Nonna.”“Arabella.”I smiled. “You look lovely.”“Don't start.”I burst out laughing.She walked toward me, tapped her cane against the floor once, and stopped right in front of me.“Four years.”I raised an eyebrow.“Four years,” she repeated. “Two children. Two! And you didn't think we needed to know?”“Nonna—”“You married my grandson again. I hugged you at that wedding. We've seen each other since, sat down and had meals together, and you still didn't say a word.”I opened my mouth.Closed it again.Because, well... what the hell was I supposed to say to that?“Mamma,” My mother in law gently int
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi a hostile takeover, strictly domestic
I stared at my husband for another few seconds, hoping he'd tell me those cars belonged to his business associates, or maybe some other Italian family that just happened to have remarkably similar taste in vehicles.Nope.He just looked toward the entrance of our house, then reached for his phone on the center console.Oh, God.I suddenly remembered Gabby and Al.Kendra.The beach.The pic she'd sent earlier.And now several members of the Ricciardi family were apparently inside the same house as my children.I grabbed my handbag and started digging for my phone with considerably less grace than my outfit deserved this afternoon. Hopefully, Kendra had enough sense to take the kids upstairs to their rooms the moment she saw Rafael's family's cars pull in.Maybe they were still taking baths, maybe Kendra was drying Gabby's hair while Al explained why his plastic dinosaurs needed a bubble bath.Maybe.I looked at the suitcases outside the house.Fuck. Wel...I’m not so sure about that.My
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 Glass Mansion, Soft Monsters
Five Years Later.“AL, STOP PULLING MY HAIR, I’M A PRINCESS!”“UGLY PRINCESS!”Something small, warm, and heavy slammed into my waist. Then something else landed on my stomach. I didn’t wake up because of an alarm, but because two tiny bodies decided I was their personal playground.“Oh God,” I ras
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
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