Before I can fix it, Cooper launches into the checklist: arrival times, photo line order, sponsor placements, seating charts, exit strategy. Alycia matches him beat-for-beat, crisp and controlled. But her fingers tap the notebook.Tap-tap-tap.A quiet Morsecode of nerves.
I want to slide my hand over hers, not to hold it, but to still the tremor. But wanting things I shouldn’t want is basically my personality at this point, so I force myself to look at the desk instead. My phone buzzes, lighting up withMom. Alycia notices a full second before I do, and her eyebrows lift, a faint warning written in the line of her mouth.
“Answer it so she doesn’t call me instead,” Cooper mutters.
I swipe to answer too fast, thumb slipping, and I must hit the wrong icon because the second Mom’s voice comes through, it’s blasting out of the speaker.
“Kyle Raymond Hendrix.”
Alycia jumps, and Cooper’s mouth falls open in shock as I reach for the phone, but Mom barrels on.
“Is there a reason why I haven’t met my baby boy’s new girlfriend?”
“What?”
Cooper leans back slowly, arms crossing, a knowing grin tugging at his mouth. He’s the oldest and recognizes that tone better than any of us. Momma means business, and he’s settling in like he just paid for front-row seats to my funeral. Beside me, Alycia goes still, shoulders tightening, her gaze fixed straight ahead with the expression of a woman preparing for impact.
Mom continues, voice somehow louder than the speakers should allow.
“Your brothers say to ask you, so I’m calling. Your auntie Peggy called this morning, demanding pictures.Pictures, Kyle! She’s practically family, and I had to tell her I haven’t even met her yet.”
I lunge for the phone to take it off speaker, but somehow hit the wrong button, and the volume spikes. Fucking fantastic.
“Are you listening to me, young man?”
“Momma,” I hiss, panicked. “You’re on speaker.”
She pauses—the deadly pause every Hendrix boy knows—long enough to stupidly hope she’ll calm down but knows deep down she won’t. Instead, her voice turns sickeningly sweet.
“Oh! Wonderful! Then is your girlfriend with you right now?”
Alycia makes a tiny choking sound as Cooper’s shoulders start shaking—full-body, silent laughter—because he knows exactly what’s coming. This is the part where Mom verbally drop-kicks someone, and for once, it’s not him.
I jab at buttons until the phone goes back to normal volume but is still on speaker. “Mom, she is, but this isn’t a good?—”
“Can she hear me?” she demands.
Alycia leans in and whispers, barely audible, “Please say no.”
I whisper back, “She heard you.”
“Be a good boy and put her on the phone, Kyle.”
Alycia’s eyes widen like she’s staring down a penalty shot from hell.
“Mom, we’re in a meeting?—”
“Kyle.” Her voice drops intothattone—the one thathas shut down Hendrix boys for three decades straight. “Don’t make me come down there. Give her the phone.”
Cooper snorts—not silently this time, but loud and obnoxious—and Momma pounces immediately. “Don’t laugh, Cooper. Your turn is coming. I already called Ramona, and apparently, she hasn’t met her yet either.”
“She met her…”
“Not as your baby brother’s girlfriend, she hasn’t.”
That wipes the grin off his face so fast I bark out a laugh. Before Momma can lay into me again, Alycia inhales sharply, straightens her blazer like she’s walking into a board meeting, and holds out her hand for the phone. I swear, I do not deserve this woman.
“Hello, Mrs. Hendrix,” she says sweetly. “This is Alycia Torres. It’s nice to?—”
