She walks past, leaving a whiff of some floral perfume I can’t identify. I follow her in and shut the door. We don’t need an audience.
“Something to drink?” I ask, more to be polite than as an invitation, but not before taking the sole armchair perpendicular to the couch. It used to be Shirley’s seat, positioned to show everyone she was in charge.
“No. This isn’t that sort of visit.” Mom glares at me for taking the seat she obviously wanted, but sits on the couch and crosses her toned legs. “What’s the meaning of that man’s text?”
“Whose text?”
She tilts her head toward the door. “Your Russian pit bull.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen it.”
“He told me to avoid Andy Brown. Why should I? He’s just a sniveling little fool.”
My intestines knot at the mention of his name. “You know what he did to me.”
“That was five years ago. Since then he hasn’t done anything.”
“Because his parents have had him on a leash. Now there’s nobody keeping him under control.”
Mom sniffs. “He doesn’t have what it takes. I’m not going to hide in my home because of some…some…boy.”
“He’s probably the one who sent me a dead puppy. He also tried to kidnap me in St. Cecilia.”
She pales under the flawless makeup. “What?”
“I don’t think he’s going to go after you, but it’d be wise to take precautions.”
“If that’s the case, why did you move out of Ryder’s? There can’t be many places safer than his mansion.” She licks her lips, the skin around her throat flexing as she swallows.
“He’s a newlywed. He and his wife need some privacy, especially with her being pregnant now, don’t you agree?” The last thing Paige needs is my mother living with them. Even under the best of circumstances, she isn’t an easy person to be around, with her endless criticism about everything. You could give her the world’s richest chocolate, and she’d complain that it wasn’t calorie-free.
“So where are you staying that’s as safe as Ryder’s?”
“It doesn’t concern you, Mom.” She hates Dominic. I don’t want to bring him up and have her lose her temper in the office.
Her eyes narrow. “You moved in with Dominic King, didn’t you?”
“Mom.”
“Why would you debase yourself with a man like him?”
“Mother!”
“He’s nouveau riche—classless and tasteless, but somehow believes he’s our equal because of his money.”
“We were nouveau riche once. The Pryce family didn’t exactly drop from the sky with millions.”
“We’re different.”
“Of course. Unlike Dominic, we made our fortune smuggling and bootlegging.”
Red blotches her face. “That isn’t true.”
“Isn’t it? Not talking about it doesn’t make it untrue.”
“Do you think your Dominic’s that upstanding and precious? Then ask him why he gave a job to a sociopath like Andy.”
“Is Andy still working for Domin