Amelia looked over at Aubry and Harmony. “That does make Flynn seem a lot less attractive to me.”

Harmony grimaced. “I’m going to have to break up with Barrett and go home.”

Aubry nodded. “Agreed. I’m calling off the wedding right now.”

Tucker’s gaze shot up from where he was standing at the sink. “Wait. What did you just say?”

Aubry laughed. “He has very good hearing.” She looked over at Tucker. “Just joking around, babe.”

“You’d better be. We are getting married and you don’t get to change your mind.” Tucker scanned their group. “And quit talking to Mia.”

“He knows I know all his secrets.” Mia nodded and shot Tucker a knowing smile. “They all know that. I should start asking for money.”

“You really should,” Amelia said. “You could amass a small fortune.”

“It could be an amazing side business. Or source my future endeavors. I could call it Mia’s Extortion Fund.”

Aubry grinned. “I love this idea—and this wickedly smart entrepreneurial side of you, Mia.”

“Thank you, Aubry.”

Amelia nodded. “If you’re really smart you could double down by not only taking their money, but then selling their secrets to their girlfriends, fiancées, wives. Double the money.”

Mia turned to her. “That’s diabolical. And brilliant. I like this side of you, Amelia.”

Amelia shrugged, but had to fight back a laugh. “Thank you. And if you need a partner, just let me know.”

“I will.”

All joking aside, Amelia was very impressed with how thorough—and how quickly—the guys cleaned up the kitchen. Within twenty minutes they were out of the way so the women could all get in there and start cooking dinner.

Flynn stuck around to help, so they ended up having plenty of hands. Amelia, along with Anya, made several pies while the rest of the group concentrated on fixing side dishes. Before long it was steamy hot in the kitchen and Lydia turned on the air conditioner. Katrina had made sangria, so they were all sipping the cool drink and talking while they did their respective cooking tasks.

Amelia had slid the pies into the oven, so she took her glass of sangria and stepped outside on the front porch for a minute before diving into the next task.

Lydia came out soon after and sat beside Amelia on the porch swing.

“You work so quickly,” Lydia said. “It takes me hours just to make one pie, and you’ve done six.”

“I’m used to working fast because of the restaurant. And it’s all about having the ingredients laid out and the tasks in order in my head. Plus, it’s my job, so that makes it easier for me.”

“I imagine that’s true. Stuff that seems difficult for someone else is probably cake for you.”

“Well, I couldn’t walk into a courtroom and argue a case because that’s not my area of expertise. Whereas you probably watch all those courtroom dramas on television and roll your eyes at the lack of accuracy.”

Lydia laughed. “You have no idea. It’s so frustrating.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“How do you feel about the cooking shows on TV? Do they drive you crazy?”

“Some of them do if they’re all about dramatic effect with no substance. But a few are actually pretty good. If they can show the viewer the passion behind the cooking, and give them real world information on how to create something, then I’m all for it. I enjoy quite a few shows.”

“So do I. Which ones do you like?”

They talked about which were their favorites. It turned out they shared a number in common, from cooking shows to a couple of the reality competition shows.

“I know you told us all yesterday how you started your career in cooking. But I’m interested in your earlier life. Did you learn to cook from either of your parents, Amelia?” Lydia asked.

“Oh, no. In high school, actually. I took a basic cooking skills class and fell in love. The instructor encouraged me to take an advanced class, which I did, and from there I was hooked. In college I got my bachelor’s degree in management, found a job at a restaurant and worked there while I went to school. After graduating, I attended culinary school.”

“It’s great that you knew what you wanted and went after it.”

She nodded. “Yes, much to my mother’s disappointment.”

Lydia frowned. “She was disappointed? Why?”

“She thought it was a frivolous career with no earning potential. She was a financial analyst, so money was everything to her.”

“Oh. Well, that’s disappointing. For you.”

Amelia shrugged. “My mother was always about career. A lot less about home and family. I was kind of an afterthought to her.”

Lydia reached out and laid her hand on Amelia’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

Amelia looked over at Lydia, horrified that she’d spilled so much personal information. “I’m . . . sorry I brought it up. I never do. I don’t know why I said anything. I honestly wasn’t looking for sympathy.”

“No, you said it because you wanted to talk to someone about it. Am I right?”

“Maybe. I think it’s also because I’m so fascinated by your family dynamic. You have such a warm and loving family. The siblings all get along, your husband’s brothers live nearby. It’s such a tight-knit group.”