What a Girl Wants

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.

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.