His Southern Sweetheart

Since the Reyeses weren’t going to be in town next week for the three-day weekend, the uncles had decided to throw a pool party for Kimber and Philly’s friends and neighbors for a pre-Labor Day celebration. Nate and Stephen had opened up the two-story split-level brick home that once belonged to their brother, Ken, and his wife. Amelia remembered Betty Gravel-Reyes with great fondness. Betty would have been proud of the lengths Nate and Stephen Reyes were going to to raise the girls.

It was also nice to see Jeanette and Enzo Gravel firmly established in their granddaughters’ lives. Amelia understood why they had not contested Ken and Betty’s will. But age did not stop them from being involved. Currently, the grandparents were blowing bubbles into the air over the pool while Philly and her friends jumped into the clear blue water to catch them.

Red, white and blue pinwheels surrounding the lagoon-style pool spun with the warm wind. The smaller children found the whimsical toys interesting and pulled some up out of the remarkably green grass to have a blowing contest. Kimber took a few minutes out of her time from entertaining a few girls and boys from her school to come and talk to Amelia.

Not having grown up with younger kids around her, Amelia found the hazel-eyed girl amusing. But she understood how the teenager would be embarrassed by things Nate or Stephen did. She remembered how humiliating it had been for herself when her father would moonwalk around on the floor of The Scoop as if he were Michael Jackson. To make things worse, their ice-cream parlor had been the local hangout of teenagers for the majority of her life here in Southwood. Amelia did not mind the little spin Nate did in his apron and bare chest. He wore a pair of green swim trunks which hung slightly off his waist and to his knees. When he took the apron off, Amelia found herself dumbfounded at the sight of the V-formation of his abs.

&nbsp

; “Not a traitor, more like a sympathizer,” Amelia explained with a stutter. Nate had that kind of effect on her whenever he flashed a grin. With his backyard barbecue and Southern hospitality, he certainly made a life in Southwood foreseeable. “I understand Kimber’s pain.”

“See,” Kimber said. She beamed and poked her tongue out at her uncle. “You’re being a pain.”

Amelia chuckled and decided not to correct the girl. She commiserated with her pain, but as a woman she enjoyed watching Nate’s muscles glisten with sweat under the blaring sun. Not like she’d tell him, though. Nate could use a bit of humility. Among the guests at the party were a lot of the mothers from Philly’s pageant class. They had no shame when it came to the revealing bathing suits they wore or how high their heels were at a pool party. She’d heard the old saying, “The higher the heel, the closer to heaven,” and these ladies truly needed Jesus. One mother of a younger boy bent over blatantly, straight-legged, in front of the grill to “admire” the pink perennials as she showed off her flower.

Territoriality was not a thing Amelia experienced often unless it came to her assignments. She loathed the idea of a man like William Vickers getting her prized executive producer position. In the early stages of her career as an assistant to the executive producers, she was paid handsomely to egg on jealousy between some of the houseguests in her reality shows. She’d point out the attention one girl received from a lusted-after man or even how one girl copied another’s dress style. But she herself experiencing possessiveness over a man? The notion was crazy... Although if someone gave her a dollar for each heavy sigh and eye roll she gave today, she’d be a millionaire before Nate and Stephen served lunch.

Karma was biting her in the ass with a heap load of insecurities, as well. Hell, she followed glamorous women around all the time, and she’d never felt the intensity of self-doubt as she did today. She sat here wearing a red halter-top, one-piece suit feeling like a plump tomato while these women who’d given birth sported svelte figures. She didn’t expect Nate to have been a saint prior to meeting her, but she did wonder which of these women made up his days-of-the-week girls.

“Miss Amelia,” began Kimber, “is it true you’ve worked with music producers?”

What Amelia had learned about Kimber was the girl loved the world of celebrities. “I have. Are you interested in meeting one?”

“I do love to sing.”

A long list of singing competitions came to mind. Kimber would make the perfect contestant on any of the shows. She was young and gorgeous with a heart-tugging backstory. America would fall in love with her.

“I know that look.” Cay interrupted Amelia’s thoughts. “You’ve got a pitch going on in your head.”

“A pitch?” uncle and niece chorused.

“My cousin has this knack of turning everything she comes across into a reality show,” Cay continued, ignoring Amelia’s death stare that was willing her to shut up. The cousins had met up at Grandmamma’s to prepare the ice-cream treats for this afternoon. They’d rummaged through the barn for novelty items such as the old-fashioned red-and-white ice-cream stand equipped with a red-and-white striped tarp, under which the kids loved hanging out in the shade while poring over the wide variety of treats. Along with the standard flavors of ice cream like chocolate and vanilla, they’d also made peach, strawberry and even bubblegum ice cream. Though Amelia informed Cay that she still hadn’t told Nate the truth about her employment status, she did not want this barbecue to be the place for the discussion.

“Yeah, I recognize that look.” Nate studied Amelia’s face and shook his head back and forth. “Too bad there will be no reality shows here, not in this household.” Nate frowned.

A twinge of hurt tugged at Amelia’s heart. Her bottom lip poked out. “You haven’t even heard my pitch.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Nate, turning his back to the burgers and hot dogs. “My niece won’t be involved.”

“Don’t be mean, Uncle Nate.”

“Who?”

Kimber sighed in annoyance. “Tío Nate. And don’t change the subject. Let’s listen to what Miss Amelia has to say about my singing career.”

“Miss Amelia,” Nate clipped, “doesn’t have a say in your nonexistent singing career.”

The fun, sun-loving, pool-splashing atmosphere continued as Amelia swallowed her feelings. The pangs stemming from her heart vibrated through her body. Nate’s icy tone reminded her of the scolding and sometimes cursing out she received from contestants after she purposely manipulated a situation just to get a money shot. Over the years, she’d done some shady things, but producing reality shows was her life. And from the tone in his voice she could tell he despised her lifestyle. Had his back not been turned, she probably would have seen his upper lip curled.

“Don’t pay him any attention,” said Kimber, patting Amelia’s hand. The girl’s bright smile cheered her up a bit. “He doesn’t know good television. Let’s talk about Natalia. Do you know where she is?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t,” Amelia answered, though she wondered if the star of the show was hiding in retaliation. “I’m starting to get worried.”

“Well, if you ask me, I think Natalia is tired of living her life in front of the camera.” Kimber’s perception gave Amelia reason to pause.

“You think?”

Kimber shrugged her shoulders. “She didn’t seem happy.”