Free Midnight Diamonds by Cynthia Hampton

Becky stared at the screen, where a perky young reporter holding a microphone stood in front of Silver’s house.
    “Oh no,” Silver echoed in a whisper, and gripped her friend’s arm in a panic as they watched the well-known talk show host lean toward the camera.
    “It appears that Justin Rivers, who’s been nominated for ACMA’s Best New Artist, was seen early this morning sporting a new style.” The reporter gestured to a picture that appeared over her shoulder as she continued. “This shot of Justin was taken a few minutes ago at the home of private school teacher, Silver Madison.” The camera zoomed in to show him in the purple robe. “The color is great on you, Justin, but the style isn’t country at all. What were you thinking?”
    Turning off the television, Justin turned to Silver. “Things could get really ugly.”
    A crisp knock on the door made her groan. “Worse than this?”
    “I’ll see if I can get them to leave since this is private property.” Becky peeked out the peephole and stepped back. “Sil,” she whispered. “Who is the absolute last person on earth you want to see right now?”
    “Is it Entertainment Tonight ?” asked Sam eagerly.
    “I wish it was,” mumbled Becky with a pained look at Silver.
    Silver swallowed and put a hand over her mouth.
    Yes, the day could definitely get worse.
     

Chapter Six
     
     
    In a crisp pale blue suit and silk blouse, with her shoulder-length, blonde hair softly styled, diamonds on her ears and fingers, and taupe shoes on feet that wouldn’t dare be over a size seven, Amelia Madison epitomized a regal matriarch. She sat on the edge of the sofa, her back ramrod-straight, knees together, hands folded in her lap as she stared at her daughter.
    The rigid posture spoke loudly of disapproval without speaking at all. But the fury in those green eyes, so much like Silver’s, showed a barely-contained storm.
    What else was new?
    Now began the diatribe that could rival any filibustering politician in Washington, D.C. Her mother held a severely judgmental attitude toward certain people, and as a lifelong member of that select group, Silver knew Amelia’s ritual.
    Becky escaped to the bedroom, supposedly getting dressed, but Silver knew she hated seeing how Amelia treated Silver. After an icy stare from Amelia, Sam paled, muttered something about “damage control,” and quickly disappeared outside.
    Sitting in a chair across from her mother, Silver waited. She knew better than to start the conversation. When Justin stepped forward and cleared his throat, Silver held up one finger and shook her head, stopping the purple-robed cowboy, then folded her hands in her lap and waited for the sign. She was relieved when he stepped back and waited patiently. Her mother’s sigh gave permission for Silver to speak.
    “Mother, this is Justin Rivers. Justin, my mother, Amelia Madison.” Not surprisingly, her mother chose to ignore the introduction, focusing instead on the object of her current disdain: Silver.
    “I’m sure you know why I’m here, Silver, and I must say, of all the trials we have endured with you, this may be the most stressful.”
    The elegant woman paused for a moment, staring at her hands, another indicator of how much she chose to let this latest insurrection affect her. When her mother looked up, she directed the Wrathful Amelia face toward Justin. Silver had seen strong men reduced to gelatinous masses by that glare.
    “Young man, do you have any idea what kind of embarrassment you have brought on this family? My telephone began ringing at the ungodly hour of five o’clock this morning, thanks to my daughter’s concerned neighbors, when reporters began setting up camp outside.”
    Again Silver shook her head to keep him from answering. Justin put a hand on Silver’s shoulder and gently squeezed, causing her to flinch. She wasn’t used to support when dealing with Amelia’s disapproval.
    “I can see your taste in men has changed,