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

CHAPTER FOUR

TRAVIS WAS NO stranger to hard work. He was never one to back down from a challenge or to give up without a fight. He’d been fortunate that his talent on the football field made things easier for him. For every loss there were ten wins. Travis wasn’t afraid of losing, though. There was only one thing he truly feared—failure. Failing wasn’t the same as losing. Losing was temporary. Failing meant there was no coming back. His football career was a failure. He would not meet the goals his father had set for him or the ones he had set for himself. And according to the Weather Girl, his career in sportscasting was destined to end in failure, as well.

She’d called him a fraud, which was true. He didn’t know the first thing about reporting. He tried faking it, but that wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped. Summer also wanted to blame him for all her problems. As if having to attend a football game once a week was the worst problem in the world to have. She needed to get over herself. The world didn’t revolve around the weather or football. Travis had learned that the hard way. As much as he enjoyed their harmless banter, he wouldn’t accept her wrath. It was one thing to be uninterested. It was another to be mean.

Summer could be as mad as she wanted. He didn’t care anymore—not about the length of her weather report, and not about her. From now on if he needed someone to tell him what a loser he was, he’d call his father. He also didn’t need Summer pointing out he wasn’t good enough. He had an ex-fiancée who had made that clear when she left him. Summer’s opinion didn’t matter.

Travis pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Maybe Ken was right. Maybe going to these football games would help him. Obviously he needed the ego boost more than he thought. He’d be able to forget all about his current shortcomings by living it up in Austin or Dallas for a weekend.

Of course, what Ken didn’t know was that Travis had no pull in the NFL anymore. He was damaged goods. People around these parts still worshipped the ground he walked on, but in the big leagues, he was nothing. It was embarrassing to think he’d have to sit down with Tony Romo and ask him questions about playing ball.

Travis had met the Dallas QB once when he was still in Austin. Back then, the expectations for him were high and there wasn’t a team in the league that wasn’t looking at their quarterback situation and wondering if they could get their hands on Travis. Romo was friendly enough, but he knew someday Travis was going to be real competition. Travis loved that, the unspoken anxiety he created in opponents. Nowadays, the only opponent he had was a sassy weather girl who wanted her stupid thirty seconds back, and she had proved too tough for him.

“Is there a storm headed our way that Summer didn’t bother to tell us about?” Rachel voice startled him. She ran a finger along the top of Travis’s desk and her blouse was open one button too low to be professional. Rachel, unlike Summer, had no issues with making things personal between the two of them.

Travis shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “She’s getting some fresh air. Ken gave her a bit of bad news.”

“She’s moving to weekends?” Rachel certainly loved gossip. Travis shook his head. “He’s cutting some of her appearances?” Travis shook his head again. “He’s letting her go?”

“No, no. Nothing like that,” Travis assured her. “She has to go to football games with me. That’s all.”

Something flashed in Rachel’s eyes— displeasure, he thought. “Now, why in the world would Ken be sending Summer out to football games with you? That girl doesn’t know a thing about football!”

“He’s got it in his head that we have some sort of chemistry. I’d agree if oil and water somehow reacted to each other. But I think the only thing we do is push each other away.”

Rachel tapped her painted fingernails on his desktop as she glared at Ken’s office door. “You and Summer? Is he saying you two have better chemistry than Brian and me?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Is he saying you and I don’t have chemistry?”

“Your name didn’t really come up,” Travis said, not understanding what she was getting at.

She paled and put a hand over her heart, looking horror-struck. “He’s saying I don’t have chemistry with anyone?”

“I can’t really say what he thinks about your chemistry because like I said, you didn’t come up in the conversation.”

Rachel’s hands were balled into fists at her sides as she stalked over to Ken’s door. “Well, if he thinks he’s going to groom that blond weather freak to take me out, he’s got another think coming.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Travis shouted. He had no idea what was going on anymore.

Rachel pushed open the door without knocking and slammed it shut behind her. The women at KLVA were all certifiable. Just as that thought crossed his mind, in walked Summer. Those bluebell eyes met his and were brimming with something other than the anger and disgust that had been present a few minutes ago. She headed straight for Ken’s office, knocking politely. Rachel flung open the door, almost knocking Summer over.

She pointed an angry finger at the bewildered weather girl. “Don’t think I’m not on to you, Rain Princess. I know what you’re up to. I know.”

Travis watched as Rachel stomped off, knocking into one of the production assistants and snapping at the woman to get out of her way. Summer looked over at him, trying to make sense of what had happened. All he could do was shrug. He had no idea what was in the water today. Still slightly shaken, she stepped into Ken’s office and closed the door behind her.

Try as he might, Travis couldn’t keep himself from checking constantly for Summer to emerge. Although he couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, Ken’s voice was loud and scolding. When Summer finally opened the door, her expression gave away nothing. No telling what had gone on in there. She slowly walked toward Travis’s desk. Her hair was pulled over one shoulder and he could tell she was nervous.

“I was wrong to take my frustration out on you. I’m sorry,” she said like a child who had been told to apologize but didn’t really mean it. She began to turn away.

“Hold up.” Travis rose to his feet. He was a good foot and a half taller than her, and his size caused her to take a step back. “Obviously Ken told you you’re stuck with me.” She didn’t deny it but arched an impressive eyebrow. “I get that you think I don’t deserve to work here, but what is it about me that makes you so angry, huh? Does your boyfriend watch too much football on Sundays? Maybe your brother’s team got beat by Sweetwater back in the day?”

“I don’t have a brother or a boyfriend. Not that it’s any of your business,” she grumbled.

“I wasn’t trying to pry.”

“Listen, my weather time matters to me. You were given my time.” There was another flash of resentment in her eyes. “I’m also allergic to people who are looking to make fun of me.”

When had he ever mocked her? He had been nothing but nice to her even though she was the only person at the station who refused to jump on the welcome wagon. “I would never make fun of you for being passionate about something you love.”

She regarded him with her head tilted slightly. “Is this your dream job? Is this what you want to do for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should figure that out because sharing what I know about the weather is what I want to do with mine.” She retreated to her desk. All hope of her helping him become a more polished sportscaster evaporated. Travis dropped back into his chair. His indecision made him feel ridiculous. He wasn’t a child. He was a man who should know what he wanted out of life. Sadly, he did not.

* * *

TRAVIS WAS HARD-PRESSED to get any tips on improving his on-air performance. Summer Raines managed to be as elusive as...well, summer rain in Texas for the rest of the week. Travis and Summer’s work-related appearances kept them from connecting before newscasts. She was all-business and disappeared as soon as she finished giving her forecast. It was probably for the best. If they didn’t interact, she wouldn’t have the chance to make him feel guilty.

Determined not to fail, Travis spent all his free time memorizing his reports. The less he had to rely on the Teleprompter, the better. His nerves still got the best of him now and again. He fumbled through the end of Friday’s five o’clock report. It wasn’t a complete disaster, but still not good enough. He resolved to hide in his car and practice during the break until it was flawless.

He was surprised to find Rachel waiting for him by his desk when he stopped to grab his keys. “Great job at five, Travis. You’re really going to be a big draw.” She put her hand on his arm and not so subtly squeezed his biceps. She must have liked what she felt because she let out an appreciative hum. “You’ve been an excellent addition to the team.”

Travis took a step back. He was far from excellent. He wasn’t even good yet. Over Rachel’s shoulder, he spotted Summer on her way to the elevators. She looked at him, then Rachel, before averting her eyes and ducking her head. She pushed the button on the wall and stared at the little arrows above the doors. As unpleasant as an elevator ride with the Weather Girl seemed, it was definitely the lesser of two evils at this point.

Smiling graciously, Travis thanked Rachel and attempted to escape. She stepped in his way. “Did you bring dinner or would you like to join me for something to eat?”

“That’s sweet of you, but—” he started.

“Great!” Rachel slipped her arm under his. “I know this lovely place close by. The owners are big fans of mine. We’ll be treated like royalty.” She winked and led him to her desk to get her purse as Summer disappeared into the elevator alone.

Intercepted.

Thanks to Rachel’s love of attention, their dinner took forever. She posed for pictures with other diners and made Travis sign autographs. In the end, they didn’t get back to the station until it was nearly time to go on the air. Travis spent a few minutes hiding in the bathroom, practicing his report. It certainly wasn’t going to be flawless. He’d be lucky if it lived up to his mediocre performance at five.

When he went to drop his notes on his desk before heading into the studio, Brian and Summer were standing nearby. “Come out for a couple drinks, Summer. It won’t kill you,” he heard Brian say.

Brian Sanchez was a decent guy and a likable anchorman. He had one of those faces that made you trust everything he had to say. So far, he hadn’t given Travis any reason to believe that wasn’t the case. Brian was also the unofficial social director at the station. He organized poker games and managed the station’s softball team. He planned office picnics and Christmas parties. Tonight, he’d invited people out for drinks after work. Rachel had mentioned it at dinner—multiple times.

Instead of accepting his offer, Summer cleared her throat. “Did you know that the average snowflake is made up of 180 billion molecules of water?” she asked.

Travis shook his head at her response. Did she have any idea how lucky she was that her nerves didn’t affect her work? He stood up as Brian continued to press. “Do not try to freak me out with your weather facts. You’re coming with us. No backing out.” Spotting Travis, he pulled him into the conversation. “You’re coming, right Travis?”

Travis held up his hands. “Don’t use me as bait. If she hears I’m coming, she won’t show for sure.”

“Your presence has no effect on my decision to go or not,” Summer quickly retorted.

“There you have it!” Brian smacked Travis on the back. “It’s settled. You’re both coming.” He smiled as he took off to catch one of the writers who needed some harassing about going out, as well.

Summer looked less than thrilled at the prospect of drinks with her coworkers. “You don’t have to go,” Travis said, trying to give her an out.

“Maybe I want to go,” she replied stubbornly.

“Then you should go.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Great.”

“Great.”

“I guess I’ll see you there.”

“I guess so.” Summer’s shoulder brushed against his arm as she slipped past him. As refreshing as her disinterest was, Travis was beginning to think it wouldn’t be so bad if she could at least tolerate him.

The ten o’clock newscast didn’t improve his mood. Travis’s segment was passable at best. Ken was going to fire him if he didn’t find a way to loosen up. Even though the Rangers looked as though they were headed for their third championship in the American League, rattling off baseball stats just wasn’t his thing. He sat at his desk, wondering if being a football player was all he was ever going to be good at.

“Who’s ready to celebrate Travis’s first full week?” Rachel said from behind him. Travis turned around to find not only Rachel, but also Brian and a few of the guys from the control room ready to go. The writers and the evening producer were standing by the elevators with two of the women from marketing who’d finished work hours ago.

The large group headed down the street to a small bar with a pool table and good country music. As expected, the conversations centered on Travis, football or a combination of both. He found himself regurgitating the same stories he’d been telling all week long. Most wanted to know about Miami and what it was like to play in certain stadiums. Some wanted to talk about winning the Big 12 Championship game against Nebraska. Others focused on the high-school teams and what Travis thought of them. Rachel was clingy and her perfume made his nose itch.

The only decent conversation he had all night was with Summer, of all people. He overheard her telling one of the production assistants about some hurricane activity in the Caribbean and he joined in, sharing his storm experiences last year in Miami. Unfortunately, other people didn’t find weather as interesting as he and Summer did, and it wasn’t long before the focus shifted to Travis and football. Like it always did. No matter how hard he tried to not let it. As soon as that happened, Summer disappeared.

He found her talking to a young man in a black cowboy hat a little while later. His jeans and flannel shirt were a dead giveaway that he didn’t work for the station. Unfortunately, he had a nephew who played for the local high school, and he wanted to know what Travis thought about the competition in 4A. Summer moved on pretty quickly.

Travis ordered one more drink from the bartender, who was quick to admit he had been a big Travis Lockwood fan. The old man kindly offered up his condolences regarding the shoulder injury. The pity was always hard to swallow. Travis could see it in people’s eyes before it even came out of their mouths. Everyone was sorry his dream hadn’t been fully realized. Sometimes Travis wanted to ask them how they knew what his dreams were. Maybe football had nothing to do with his dreams.

After enduring one more conversation about UT’s prospects for a championship, Travis decided to call it a night. He slipped out, only to find the Weather Girl standing outside the door, digging through her enormous red bag.

“Here I’ve been waiting all evening to find out what the Babylonians had genetically that we don’t and you’re out here trying to sneak away without saying good-night,” he said.

“Good night, Travis.” She pulled her keys out and held them up, victorious.

“You hate me so much you won’t even tell me, huh?”

Summer exhaled loudly. “I don’t hate you. My grandma taught me hating someone is nothing but a big waste of time. Time that could be spent planting a garden or cleaning my room.”

“I think your grandma was trying to get you to do your chores.”

One side of her mouth quirked up as she headed for the parking lot. “Probably. She’s tricky like that.”

Travis followed. “You’re killing me here. Why won’t you tell me?”

“What do you want from me, exactly?”

Travis sighed and decided to be totally honest with her. “Someone to talk to who doesn’t want to rehash every play I ever made on the football field. Someone who won’t sit across from me hoping I’m going to take her home or kiss her good-night.”

“Don’t ever try to kiss me.” The fierceness in her voice left no room for doubt. “That will get you a slap across the face, mister.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “No kissing. Yes, ma’am. But I really do want to know about the Babylonians.”

She clicked the button to unlock her car and pulled the door open. “I think the Babylonians could feel the rain coming like I do. My dad told me once that humans probably evolved so that we didn’t need to be that sensitive to certain things. We had better shelter, tracked seasons formally, developed tools like barometers and Doppler radar. We didn’t need to feel it anymore. Maybe I’m the last of the supersensitive humans.”

When she talked about the weather, she came to life. There was something about the look in her eye when she shared that kind of information. It was a spark that flashed inside her, a light that he wanted to make brighter. “I think I get it. I might need you to be my date to the next Rotary meeting to explain it to them, though.”

Summer flushed. “Did you know that we’ve been experiencing above-average temps for the last forty days in a row?”

“It’s definitely hot around here. Not as hot as that place in Libya you were talking about, but still very hot.”

She stared at him for a minute and he worried he hadn’t gotten the country right. He could have sworn she said Libya.

Climbing into her car, she gave him one more curious look. “Good night, Travis.”

“Good night, Summer.” He watched her drive away. She didn’t hate him. She didn’t like him, either, but maybe she was coming close to tolerating him.