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I casually shift to the side so she can’t force her way inside. “I don’t mean to be rude,” I say with a vapid titter, “but I was just heading out.”
“Oh, then I’ll be short. I wanted to invite you and my son over for dinner this Friday.” Her eyes move to the ring on my finger. “My way of congratulating you both.”
There’s no way I’m agreeing to anything without making sure Mace is good with it. For all I know, she could be trying to manipulate him through me. “I’ll speak with Mace. It was so lovely to meet you, Elaine.”
She purses her lips, probably annoyed I’m dismissingher, but I have no sympathy for shitty parents. “Yes, well.” She smooths her hands down her dress. “I hope to see you Friday.”
It takes every ounce of my control to keep from slamming the door as she walks down the steps. Anger is lava in my veins, coursing through me as I tug out my phone and send a message to Mace but see he’s already messaged me.
MACE
Be nice to my mom.
My face wrinkles. Why the hell would I be nice to her? Secondly, he doesn’t get to tell me what to do.
I’ll take it under consideration. I assume you were stalking me via camera again?
Dinner on Friday sounds wonderful.
Oh, great. There’s audio on these cameras; no need to text my next message.
“You’re a fucking creep,” I call over my shoulder, directing the words at the camera hidden by the entryway. Shaking my head, I turn to gather my things but stop short when his voice rolls through the foyer.
“You look so pretty when you walk away.”
My eyes narrow. I flip him the bird, hating the laughter that rolls through the speaker, and grab my stuff from the credenza. “I enjoy my privacy.” How am I supposed to sneak around if there are cameras? I’ll have to disable them or loop the security footage.
“The bedrooms and bathrooms don’t have cameras. The rest of the house is recorded for security.”
“Don’t you have better things to do than watch me all day?” I sling my purse over my shoulder, check my makeup in the reflection of my phone, and head toward the door.
“You’re more entertaining.”
“I’m going to work. Don’t follow me.”
“No promises.”
“You’re going to piss me off.”
“I know,” he says, tone light with amusement. Why he likes me being mad is beyond me, but if he keeps virtually stalking me, I might shave his head while he sleeps.
“Whatever,” I mutter.
“See you tonight, Wife.”
I slam the door shut behind me and walk toward the car. Elliot and Tony are waiting with the door open. Elliot nods at me and Tony scrutinizes me before glancing around, checking for threats.
“What’s up, boys?”
A smile cuts across Elliot’s face. “Morning, Mrs. Astor.”
I pause outside the car. “Don’t call me that. It’s Cassia.”
“Mr. Astor?—”
“Is not the boss of you.” Or me, for that matter.
He lifts an eyebrow.