âSo ⦠was reporting about sports all you imagined it would be?â
Theyâd reached the bottom floor. The elevator doors opened and they made their way to the exit. Somehow Travis still managed to look like heâd just stepped off the pages of GQ.
âI thought those who canât, can at least talk about it,â he said. âTurns out itâs harder than people like you make it look.â
âYou did fine,â Summer said in an attempt to be polite.
âI was terrible,â he replied. She couldnât really argue with his self-assessment. She almost felt bad for him ⦠until he opened the door for her and took note of the very dry parking lot, adding, âI donât know, Weather Girl, I think you might be losing your touch.â
Summer couldnât hold back her grin as the thunder rumbled overhead. She opened her umbrella and stepped outside. The skies let go, raindrops sending tiny dust clouds into the air when they hit the pavement. âWhat was that?â she asked from under the protection of her big red umbrella. She cupped her ear with her free hand. âI canât hear you over the rain and thunder.â
âArenât you going to offer to walk me to my car?â he shouted as she backed away from him.
âI think you might be losing your touch, Ladykiller,â she said, picking up the pace. âGood night!â
It wasnât as good as spotting a tornado, but watching Travis Lockwood get soaked to the bone as he ran to his fancy black sports car kind of made Summerâs day.
Dear Reader,
Inspired by a friendâs love of storm-chasing shows, I wrote this story centered around a woman who loves two things: her family and the weather. Family is forever. Weather is predictable. Love, on the other hand, isnât. Thereâs no way to tell when itâs coming or how long itâs going to stick around. Not to mention it can be more dangerous than a tornado when your heart is on the line.
I absolutely loved bringing the characters of The Weather Girl to life. So much so that I often wonder what Summer would think of the weather reports I see on television. Summer and Travis had to ride out some storms to get to their happy ending, but you donât get a rainbow without a little rain!
I hope you enjoy the story and maybe fall in love with the weather girl, too! Come visit me at www.amyvastine.blogspot.com.
Amy Vastine
has been plotting stories in her head for as long as she can remember. Itâs been a dream come true that people wanted to read them once she wrote them down. She lives outside Chicago with her high school sweetheart turned husband, three children and puppy dog. She loves to connect with readers on her Facebook author page, www.facebook.com/amyvastineauthor, and Twitter, @vastine7.
To my mom, who always believed in me. Words cannot express how much I appreciate and love you.
CHAPTER ONE
âITâS ANOTHER SCORCHER out there, Abilene. All across the Big Country, weâre looking at upper nineties today and throughout the rest of the week. Thereâs no relief from this drought in sight.â
Summer shut off the radio and shook her head. Had no one ever heard of lower troposphere instability? Once again, the responsibility to set everyone straight fell solidly on her shoulders.
Storm waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs. She gave him a pat on his big, block head. âYou can tell itâs going to rain today. Canât you, boy?â The giant black Lab wagged his tail and barked once in agreement. When she was growing up, Summerâs daddy always told her animals had a sixth sense about weather. It often made her wonder if she was born with some genetic abnormality that made her more like her trusted pet than the rest of the human race.
She sprinkled a little fish food in Isaacâs tank and bid Storm farewell, snagging her umbrella on the way out the door. Sheâd need it today, despite what the weatherman on the radio said. Summer Raines always knew when it was going to rain, no matter what the computer models predicted or how cloudless the sky looked. She could feel it.
* * *
KLVA WAS BUZZING with an unusual energy when Summer arrived at the station. The new sports anchor had started today and everyone was giddy about it. The men were grouped together, enthusiastically reminiscing about game-changing plays and state championships. The women giggled and postured. Hair was big and clothes were tight today. The new guy was somewhat of a legend in these parts, born and raised in Sweetwater, and he played ball for Texas. The manâs broadcasting experience was all on the other side of the microphone. He had held countless press conferences, only not as the press. Nobody else seemed to care his résumé consisted of nothing but football stats. For whatever reason, he was a big deal. A very big deal.