Читать книгу What a Girl Wants - Amy Vastine - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

THE MORNING SUN was no more forgiving than the one that beat down any other time of day in September. Summer fanned herself with the church bulletin.

“Excellent sermon today, pastor,” her grandfather said, shaking Pastor John’s hand.

“Thank you, David. I meant to ask Summer if we should be praying for more rain or not. You got us a little bit earlier in the week, but it wasn’t enough.”

Summer loved that people thought she had some sort of control over the rain because she forecasted it. Predicting and causing were unfortunately two very different things, but meteorologists got blamed for weather conditions regardless. “Never hurts to pray,” she replied.

“Isn’t that the truth?” The pastor smiled kindly. “We’ll see you next Sunday, Miss Raines.”

Summer followed her grandparents back to the house. They always walked to church unless the weather prevented it. Some people were born for this heat. David and Sarah Raines were two of those people.

“So, tell me about this new sportscaster y’all got over there at Channel 6 now.” Summer’s grandmother hooked arms with her and patted her hand. “I thought he was kind of cute.”

Summer’s eyes rolled behind her sunglasses. Travis was annoyingly cute and ridiculously humble. He was also the reason Summer had to talk faster during her report. Her blood boiled. She fanned herself a little faster.

“He’s barely capable of doing what he’s being paid to do, Mimi. I’m sure we stole a few viewers away from Channel 4 last week, but I’m not so sure they’re going to come back for more.”

“I think if he were on Channel 4, I’d switch over after you were done so I could see him.” Mimi winked and tugged on her arm. The woman always had a devilish look in her eyes—eyes that were the same blue as Summer’s. People always told her she looked like her grandmother. Mimi’s blond hair was a tad lighter but had the same gentle curl, although no one would ever know it because she always wore it in a long braid that fell down her back.

“You hear that, Big D?” Summer leaned forward to get her gentle giant of a grandfather’s attention. He walked without a care on Mimi’s other side. “You okay with her ogling the new sports guy every night?”

He shook his head at their nonsense. “She can look all she wants. She knows she’s stuck with this old man until the good Lord takes me away. Then she can get herself an upgrade.”

Mimi’s sigh was loud and exaggerated. “Knowing how stubborn your granddad is, he’ll probably outlive me and be the lucky one who gets to trade up.”

Summer laughed. “That’s probably best. They don’t make men like they used to. I don’t think you could upgrade if you were given the chance.”

Big D reached behind his wife and placed his hand on his granddaughter’s back. “You’re a good girl, Summer.”

Sundays were always the same—church and lunch with her grandparents, followed by a quiet evening at home...alone. Summer didn’t mind being by herself, but she enjoyed the first part of the day much more than the second. She loved working in the garden with Mimi or sharing the newspaper with Big D. Her grandparents were so different from her parents. They loved their simple life. They believed in putting down roots. They’d both lived in Abilene their entire lives. Before he retired, her grandfather had taught environmental science at the Christian university in town for over thirty years while her grandmother stayed home and raised three children. Summer’s father was the youngest and the only boy. Gavin Raines was more like a leaf in the wind rather than a tree rooted in the ground.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you deflected the conversation away from the sports guy,” Mimi said later as they put the finishing touches on an apple pie.

Summer smashed her lips together. She was not going to spill any of the feelings she was having about Travis. No matter how perceptive her grandmother thought she was being, there was nothing to tell. There was never going to be anything between Summer and the ex-football player who couldn’t read a Teleprompter to save his life. His presence at the station ruined her chances of doing more than reporting the highs and lows for the week. All Summer wanted was to share her passion for Mother Nature. Was that too much to ask?

She opened the oven and put the pie in before setting the timer. “Did you know that in ten minutes, a hurricane can release more energy than all the world’s nuclear weapons combined?”

“Well, well.” Mimi rubbed her hands together with a gleeful look in her eye. “There must be a really good story about this boy if I’m gettin’ weather facts.”

“There was a hurricane near Haiti earlier this week. I find hurricanes quite fascinating,” Summer said in her defense.

“I think you find something else more fascinating than you want to admit.”

“He took thirty seconds of my weather report away. I find nothing the least bit fascinating about him or football. Football, football, football! Do people in Texas not know there are other things happening in the world besides football?”

Mimi bit her tongue, trying not to infuriate her already irrational granddaughter. Summer had moved to Abilene when she was sixteen and never quite acclimated to the Texas way of life. Being raised by hard-core storm chasers probably hadn’t helped. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s not his fault that football reigns supreme around these parts. You can’t hold the general public’s preferences against him.”

Summer sat back down at the kitchen table, flustered. She hated that it was so easy for him. He waltzed into the studio and all the viewers were going to love him no matter what. She didn’t love him. She didn’t even like him. She barely tolerated him. “He also calls me Weather Girl. Says it sounds cute.”

Mimi had to cover her mouth to stop her laughter from sending Summer into a real fit. “He thinks you’re cute, doesn’t he?”

Summer crossed her arms as she narrowed her eyes at the old woman. “If it weren’t for the apple pie, I would so be going home right now.”

Big D walked into the kitchen wondering if he needed to call for an ambulance. His wife was laughing so hard, her face was bright red. Mimi got up, wiping her eyes and shaking her head. She shooed them both out so she could get lunch ready.

“She still giving you a hard time about that quarterback?” Big D asked. He’d always had a soft spot for his granddaughter, but it got bigger after her parents died. Summer knew it and never took advantage. It was nice having Big D looking out for her, even when he only had to protect her from nosy grandmothers.

“She just wants me to get married before she dies. I figure the longer I drag it out, the longer she’ll stick around. Maybe I’ll wait until she’s a hundred.”

He looked up at the ceiling pleadingly. “Lord, help me.”

“Be nice,” Summer warned.

“She wants you to be happy, darlin’. That’s all she wants.”

She wanted them to be happy, too. When her dad died, so did a little piece of them. Summer’s presence helped, healed some of the wounds. Still, one thing she’d learned in the hard years since her parents’ deaths—people don’t get over burying a child. Mimi was having a good day today, but next week was the anniversary of her son and daughter-in-law’s deaths. As feisty as the old woman in the other room was, she still suffered from a broken heart. The dark days were coming. Summer could feel it.

“I am happy.” Big D gave her a knowing look from his oversize recliner. “Most of the time,” she added.

“I never thought you’d stick around here. Not that I mind, of course. I just thought you’d be more like your daddy, I guess.”

Summer had two reasons why she stuck around, and they were both in this house. Part of her yearned to be in the thick of things, studying weather phenomena on location instead of reporting about them from the safety of a television studio. Nevertheless, she knew her grandmother wanted nothing more than for her to marry someone with roots in Texas and raise a family that would fill the dining room table every Sunday. Summer wasn’t looking for some guy to settle down with because she wasn’t sure she wanted to settle down. Sometimes she hoped there was a man out there who was going to blow into town and sweep her off her feet, take her away and show her the adventure of a lifetime. That was a secret she’d never dare tell.

“I’m good, Big D. Don’t you waste one more minute worrying about me.”

He sat forward and patted her knee with a weathered but gentle hand. “I could say the same thing to you, sweetheart.”

* * *

SUMMER SPENT ALL of Sunday night thinking about what her grandfather had said. She thought about it again while she waited for her turn to speak to a bunch of kids at one of the local libraries Monday afternoon. It also crossed her mind when she arrived at the station later and opened an email from Ryan.

I have big news when I see you. You won’t be able to say no this time. Your career as a boring, Texas weather girl is over.

Ryan was crazy. Wasn’t he? Being a meteorologist was the perfect job for her. Summer got paid to talk about the weather five days a week. What more could she ask for?

Adventure.

The truth was, the thrill of a storm chase was like nothing else she had ever known. She tried to appease the wild child inside her with rock climbing, hiking, even skydiving. Nothing came close. Summer loved the weather, but did she love being the—

“Weather Girl.” Travis was all smiles as he sat on the corner of her desk. “Did you have a good weekend?”

“I had a great weekend,” Summer said, taking a good look at him. His hair was shorter, a lot shorter. It made him look older, less like a boy and more like a man. “It looks like someone attacked your head with some clippers.”

Looking sheepish, he rubbed his clean-shaven jaw with his knuckles. “I got a haircut,” he said, stating the obvious. “My aunt Kelly’s neighbor’s book club apparently thought it was too long. Kelly agreed and called my mother, who called me and said she wasn’t going to bake any red velvet cupcakes when I came to visit if I didn’t get it cut.”

“She drives a hard bargain.”

“You have no idea. Her cupcakes make me cry,” he whispered.

“Interesting,” Summer said, not interested in the least.

“I’ll ask her to bake you some. She likes you.” He cringed and closed his eyes. His cheeks turned pink. “I mean she watches you and likes you, you know, as a weather girl.”

If anyone knew about sticking her foot in her mouth, it was Summer. “If it makes you feel any better, my grandmother thinks you’re cute,” she confessed to ease his embarrassment.

“She does?” His eyes were bright like the clouds had lifted. “And would you say you consider your grandmother a wise woman?”

“Oh, Mimi is completely off her rocker. I mean, she is more than a few cards short of a full deck. Bonkers. Mad as a hatter. Crazy as a—”

“Okay, okay!” Travis put his fingers on her lips. “I get it.”

Summer’s heart skipped a beat, then flew into overdrive. Before she could process this unexpected physical reaction, Travis pulled his hand away and shoved it deep in his pants pocket.

“Did you know that the highest temperature ever recorded was 136 degrees Fahrenheit in Azizia, Libya?” she blurted out. “Can you imagine?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “That’s crazy hot.”

“Summer, Travis. Can you two come here a minute?” Ken called from the doorway of his office, breaking the tension.

Travis stood up and smiled. “I talked to him about giving your thirty seconds back.”

Her thirty seconds. Summer made a mad dash to Ken’s door. She could barely contain her excitement as she took a seat and waited for the two men to settle in. Maybe Travis wasn’t so bad after all.

“I want to run through your upcoming appearances. You guys know about the Balloon Festival in a couple weeks?”

“I’m running in the 10K, so I’ll be there all day,” Summer announced anxiously. She wanted him to get to the part about her thirty seconds.

“You run?” Travis asked, seeming surprised. Summer nodded and bit her tongue. Was it really that shocking? Was he unaware of the fact that women could run? Did she not look like a runner?

“Well, you two don’t need to be there until three o’clock. Brian and Rachel will be kicking off the event in the morning. You’ll need to be there after the balloon launch. I’m sending some head shots for Travis to autograph. I think we could get a lot of traffic.”

Abilene hosted an annual hot-air balloon festival to raise money for local charities. It attracted tens of thousands of people as well as local and national media attention. KLVA sent reporters to cover the event and held a meet and greet with some of the station’s personalities. Above and beyond Rachel and their anchor, Brian, Travis was certain to be a big draw this year. Summer loved the Balloon Fest, but she dreaded having to spend the afternoon dealing with the football god and his disciples. This obsession with a man who threw a ball to other men made absolutely no sense to her.

Ken was momentarily distracted by an email alert. He slid his reading glasses off the top of his head and onto his face. He took his sweet time reading the message and typing a response.

“I run,” Travis whispered.

“That’s super,” Summer whispered back. Did he want a medal? Did he not get enough attention for his previous career? Clearly he needed recognition for being able to run, as well.

“Okay.” Ken turned away from the computer. “There’s also the Rodeo Parade next month. You’ll both need to be available for that, too.”

“No problem,” they said at the same time.

“Perfect. Then I’ve only got one other thing.” Ken sat back, took his glasses off and set them on his desk. “Travis came to talk to me earlier about giving the thirty seconds back to weather.”

“I appreciate that,” Summer said, meaning it wholeheartedly.

“He and I discussed it, and I think I came up with the greatest idea,” Ken continued.

Summer’s smile faltered a bit. Ken had come up with an idea? Wasn’t the idea giving weather back its thirty seconds?

“So, picture this,” Ken said, holding his hands up as if he were framing the scene. “Instead of weather getting an extra thirty seconds each night, we add a whole special segment once a week.”

Summer almost leaped out of her seat. A segment? A special segment? Her grandmother was right. Travis was cute. He was unbelievably cute. He was maybe the cutest guy she had ever met. “I am so glad you changed your mind,” she said in a rush. “Like I told you a few weeks ago, I’ve been working on this weather history—”

Ken held up his hand to stop her. “Summer, Summer, hold on there. Let me finish.”

The knot in her stomach told her something was wrong. Something was very wrong. She stole a glance in Travis’s direction. He was rubbing the back of his neck, and his tension only added to her worry.

“Travis is going to bring a lot of viewers to the station, but he needs some—” Ken smiled at Travis apologetically before turning back to Summer “—polishing if we want to keep the viewers from switching back to Channel 4. You’re a natural when it comes to reporting. You two are both young, attractive people. I’ve seen you banter in the newsroom. I like it. I like it a lot. I like it so much, I want to combine weather and sports during football season.” His steepled fingers slid together to join his two hands.

Summer felt the heat rising up her chest. This was not what she wanted to hear.

“We send you two to do special on-location reports. Summer tells everybody how hot it is on the field and Travis talks about how hot the action is. He’ll learn a thing or two from you. The viewers will eat you two up. It’s brilliant. We’ll do a couple of the high-school games to warm you up. Local games here in Abilene, Sweetwater’s homecoming and then I want to send you down to Austin. Travis’s alma mater. Summer in a Longhorns T-shirt. It’s gonna be magic.”

There were no words. No words for what Summer was feeling. She was being asked to report the weather at a football game. At several football games. No “This Day in Weather History.” No escape from the nightmare that had begun when Travis Lockwood stepped into the newsroom.

“So, what do you think? You love it?” Ken looked back and forth between them with a huge, ugly smile.

Travis cleared his throat. Twice. “Ah, I think I’m game if Summer’s game. I mean, as I said earlier, I want to prove myself—prove you didn’t made a mistake hiring me.”

Summer was having an out-of-body experience. She was no longer sitting in the chair. She hovered above everyone, looking down at the disastrous scene. Ken was all too pleased with himself, and when he came up with ideas like this, there was no stopping him. Nothing she said would make a difference, but she tried anyway.

“A Texas game means you want us to work on the weekend. Richard’s not going to like that. He thinks things are unfair already. If I take the weekends, too, no telling what kind of fit he’ll throw.” Her voice shook slightly as she fought to keep herself together.

“I don’t really care what Richard will and won’t like. We’re talking one Saturday. Most of these segments will be local high-school games on Friday nights. Maybe we’ll send you to Dallas for a Cowboys game.” Ken’s focus went back to Travis. “You think you could work your connections to get us some one-on-ones? Maybe you and Romo? Travis! This is the best idea I’ve ever had!”

The walls began to close in on Summer. She needed to get out. She needed to leave the building. Without saying a word, she bolted from the office, past the elevators and straight to the stairwell. Her footsteps echoed as she made her way down.

“Summer!”

Her name didn’t even register until she had pushed open the heavy door into the lobby. She couldn’t face Travis right now. Oh, the things she might say if she opened her mouth. This was his fault. If he hadn’t come to work at Channel 6, she wouldn’t be dealing with these changes. She certainly wouldn’t have to go to football games every week. Weather would be nothing but a second thought on those days.

Fueled by her frustration, Summer exited through the building’s revolving doors. The afternoon sun momentarily blinded her, and in her frantic need to get away, she bumped into a passerby. Shielding her eyes, she apologized to the man and kept moving with no destination in mind. Maybe Ryan was right. Maybe what Summer needed was an escape from it all. Why did she want to be a stupid weather girl anyway?

A hand wrapped around her arm, and Travis tugged her to a stop. “Summer, please. Don’t be mad.”

“Don’t be mad?” Her anger rose. “First you take thirty seconds. Now you talk Ken into getting your own special segment? And I have to be dragged along with you?”

“I didn’t ask him for anything,” he said, letting her go and sounding exasperated. “All I’m trying to do is find a way to do this job and do it well.”

“Do it well? You can’t even read the prompter!” If she was going to tell him how she felt, she was going to let all the ugly out. “You come in here with no experience, no résumé, nothing! You got this job because of who you were, not who you are. You smile and you charm everyone, but I know you’re a fraud. You’re nothing but a big fraud who took my thirty seconds. I’ve been asking Ken for a special weather segment for months and he gives the time to you instead. I shouldn’t be mad? What should I be exactly?”

There was no boyish grin, no twinkling eyes. Travis looked pissed and not afraid to show it. He stepped forward, and Summer’s back pressed against the warm brick behind her. He caged her in with his arms. His rock-hard body barely an inch from hers made it hard to concentrate. “I didn’t take your stupid thirty seconds. They were given to me. I didn’t ask for them. I didn’t plot to ruin your life. I simply took the job I was offered. And maybe I don’t have any experience, but I’m willing to learn. Maybe I am a fraud, but I’m not your punching bag.”

Summer felt as if her chest was going to break open from the pounding of her heart. She opened her mouth to say something but could think of nothing. He was right. She was blaming him for things that weren’t really under his control.

Travis stepped back and ran his fingers through his too-short-to-tug hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it. But you don’t know me.” He laughed without humor. “Here I thought that was a good thing,” he said more to himself than her. He looked her in the eye, casting no doubt on his sincerity. “I tried to give you your time back. I asked Ken to do that, but he came up with this instead. I’m sorry football offends you so much. I’m sorry I offend you so much. Be mad. I don’t really care.”

With that, he stormed back inside, leaving Summer breathing heavily and filled with regret. She had cast him as the villain for no other reason than to make herself the victim. Summer was mad all right—mad at herself.