What a Girl Wants. Amy Vastine

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      “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.

      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.

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