And right now, her eyes are staring right at me.

The smile on her lips appears the second she spots me, ignoring whatever the bellhop was saying to her seconds before. She waves him off and starts to race toward me.

“Shit,” I grumble.

Wyatt turns. “What?”

“Just keep your mouth shut,” I warn.

“Is that—”

When most mothers see their children after months of being away across the country, they probably hug them, embrace them, never want them to leave their side ever again. But my mother has never believed in hugs.

“Neil! You made it,” she says, like there’s nothing wrong. “I called you several times. I was starting to think that you’d missed your flight.”

“No, Mom. I just missed the calls. My phone was off.”

“Well, I hope that won’t happen again this week. You’re playing a big part in this wedding, Neil. I need this to go off without a hitch.” She glances over me, already looking for something to comment on.

She then proceeds to lick her thumb and wipe away at some invisible mark on my cheek. I try to wrestle away, but she’s still got an iron grip on my shoulder.

“Mother!”

“And who is this?” She sets her targets on Wyatt, and I wish that were a good thing.

“This is Wyatt,” I say. “He’s my date for the wedding.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Wyatt holds out his hand for her to take.

“Your date, and so mannerly!” Mom says with her plastic smile. “That’s so wonderful. It’s very nice to meet you.”

She finally takes his hand, shaking it so violently that I’m afraid we’ll have to pop Wyatt’s shoulder back in its socket.

“Your accent is adorable,” she says.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“And so polite too. What a gentleman.” Then she freezes, turning toward me. “I thought you were coming with Josh? Oh, honey. Did the two of you break up? You remember, I told you—”

“We weren’t dating, Mother,” I interrupt. “So, we couldn’t have broken up.”

“Regardless. I hope this doesn’t cause any needless drama. I’ll have enough going on, planning every detail of this event.”

I shouldn’t even be surprised that she’s planned this entire wedding herself. Why would she ever relinquish control for a single second?

“Well, Wyatt, we’ll have to talk at some point. You’ll have to tell me how you two met. And how you’re treating my precious little prince here.”

“Right, Mother, well!” I stop the conversation there. “It was nice to see you. But we’re tired, so I think I’m going to go to the room and rest before we get ready.”

“Okay, but don’t be late.” She points a finger at me. “I’m texting you the address. It’s right down the street, so there’s no reason to be late.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wyatt answers when I don’t. “We won’t be.”

And as quickly as she appears, she vanishes, like a ghost, except I doubt most ghosts wear red bottoms that echo on the marble floor of the hotel.