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“Let’s say I don’t trust anyone around town to do the work for me.”
He stopped himself from mentioning Parker’s name. The man seemed too eager to spend time with Amelia. Clearly, the two of them had history together.
“So you work on a reality show directing all kinds of odd jobs.” Nate shrugged and cleared his throat to get the thought of Parker out of his mind. What mattered was that Amelia had declined Parker’s offer and accepted his. “Couldn’t anyone else do the work?”
The frown disappeared and Amelia glanced around the room. Her teeth captured the bottom corner of her lip. “I am not allowed to contact any of the folks from the shows I produced.”
“You’re the producer.” Nate leaned forward. “Tha
t explains the cash flow.”
“Was,” Amelia clarified, twisting her lips to the side—her reminder that she’d been fired because of him. Nate bowed his head in apology. “And I was a producer, but not in the sense most people think.”
“I’m not most people.” Nate wiggled his brows.
“I was a field producer, which meant I oversaw a lot of the production. I traveled with at least a dozen guys to keep up with the Ruiz crew, depending on what they had going on during the day.” Amelia paused for a moment when the waiter approached with their sodas and a notepad ready, to take their order.
Now raising two kids, Nate rarely ever got to order a pizza with more than pepperoni or cheese on top. They both thought the Supreme sounded delicious. Kismet yet? Probably not, but he did find her desirable when she asked if he’d be okay with a deep dish. The waiter disappeared into the kitchen.
Nate reached across the table and captured her hand. His thumb stroked small circles on the bones of the back of her hand. “You were saying?”
“About the pizza?”
“About being a big-time producer.”
Amelia’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Field producer.”
Nate chuckled and inclined his head. “Okay, what is a field producer?”
Long lashes fanned against her high cheekbones as she contemplated her answer. Her cinnamon-kissed skin glowed in the light of the camera. A blush shone across her high cheekbones. “What’s your favorite reality TV show?”
“Don’t have one.” Nate rested his arms on the table.
Amelia cocked her head to the side and spoke slowly. “Because you have so many?”
“Because I don’t watch them.”
Amelia’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward as if she didn’t hear correctly. “Pardon me?”
“I don’t watch reality shows.” Nate’s shoulders rose up and down, shrugging as she sat across from him clutching her heart and dramatically feigning being wounded. “I live with my two nieces, and if a show has to bleep out every other word because women are fighting or tearing each other down, it’s not worth watching.”
“All right.” Amelia nodded. “I can understand to an extent. But what about Azúcar?”
A tremble threatened to lift his upper lip. “What about it?”
“It is the first crossover American reality show with a predominately Puerto Rican cast. It’s my number one project for MET Studios.”
“Hey, that’s fantastic.” Nate tried not to come off sarcastic. “But to me, the Puerto Rican cast is plain old regular folk.”
“Of course,” Amelia groaned and hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I forgot how close you and Natalia are. Exactly why did Stephen and Natalia meet up?”
“I’m afraid if Natalia did not tell you the nature of the meeting,” Nate said with a sigh, “then it’s not my place to tell. I will say I’ve known her family for years and I know for a fact they’re headed by an egotistical woman named Yadira who sees nothing but dollar signs when it comes to her nieces and nephew.”
“Aunt Yadira isn’t so bad.”
Nate studied Amelia’s face as she spoke. Her bottom lip twitched and she glanced away for a second. No one got along with Yadira Ruiz. “Because she’s the one padding your pockets,” Nate grumbled.
“MET Studios pays my salary,” Amelia snapped, “or they did.”
