Forecast (7 page)

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Authors: Jane Tara

BOOK: Forecast
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“So, Rowie, damn good to have you on board.”

Rowie smiled. He was as rough as a Brazilian wax job, but she immediately liked him. “Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.”

Mac explained a bit about the network, and what they expected from Rowie. “Networks have been using gimmicks for years to sell the weather. Admittedly, we’ve always used trained meteorologists at USBC, but this is only short term, so should work.” Mac glanced at Jess, as if to say, ‘And if it doesn’t, you’re to blame.’

Jess jumped right in. “NBC has scouts trawling comedy shows looking for potential weather people. It’s the way of the future. Weather needs to be entertaining to be accessible.”

Mac nodded. He didn’t disagree. Most people had the attention span of a goldfish nowadays. However, using a seasoned stand-up comedian was very different to transmitting a psychic into America’s living rooms.

“I’m a bit nervous,” Rowie admitted. This is such an important network and I …”

Mac interupted. “Don’t think of it in those terms. You’re not batting for the whole of USBC. This is the New York station and we’re independently run. No pressure … well not much, anyway. Keep it simple and you’ll be fine.”

Rowie smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”

“Honestly Rowie,” offered Jess. “All you need to concentrate on is your spooky-wooky predictions.”

Rowie smiled at Jess, but she felt uncomfortable. Jess seemed eager to work with her, yet every kind word, every compliment, had a dark underlying edge.

“Allrighty,” said Mac. “I guess we’d better test you before we go any further. Jess will show you around, and then give you a bit of training on the studio floor. I’ve had the Chromakey and monitors turned on so you can rehearse. Jess will explain what they are. I’ll meet you down there.”

Jess led Rowie out of Mac’s office and through the news center, pointing to rooms as they passed. “That’s the global weather center. Next to it are the extreme weather guys. You don’t need to worry about all that. I’ll give you a run-down each day, detailing which stories to cover.”

“A run-down?”

Jess spoke quickly. “Yes, like there’s been twenty inches of snow in Denver and a tornado in Kansas. Briefly touch on what’s happening nationally. The major stories. No one gives a shit about nice weather. Stick to that at the start of each segment, then do your little woo-woo thing.”

Jess opened a door and motioned for Rowie to follow her. “This is the control room. The director will be in here, not on the floor with you. I’ll also be here to keep an eye on how you’re doing, along with some audio technicians and graphic operators.”

Rowie noticed an attractive woman sitting on a computer in the corner. She had very short blonde hair, and a tall, lean body. Judging by the way she glared at Jess, the two women had issues.

“Rowie, this is Michelle. She’s one of our meteorologists.”

Rowie offered her hand and Michelle grudgingly shook it.

“You’re Drew’s replacement?”

“I hope so. As long as I don’t mess up this test.”

“Can’t you predict if you will?” Michelle smirked before stalking out.

Jess shrugged her off. “Ignore her. Like most of the female species here, she’s having Drew Henderson withdrawals. Come on, let’s get you trained.”

Jess led Rowie into the studio. It was smaller than it appeared on television. She noticed the news desk.

“Bill and Tina, the anchors, will be there,” Jess explained. “They’ll introduce you and the three of you will chat for fifteen seconds. Not a millisecond more. The banter will appear spontaneous, but it will be scripted.”

Rowie was horrified to hear that. She’d always loved getting her news from Bill Anderson and Tina Eanis. They were an American institution. “Is all their banter scripted?”

“Most of it. Bill and Tina have the combined IQ of a house brick. We don’t need them commenting on world events while they’re on air.”

“What are they like?” asked Rowie, not willing to believe Bill and Tina were anything but consummate professionals and darn nice people.

“Utter assholes. And they despise each other. But hey, they’re pretty, and America trusts them.” Jess pulled Rowie over to a large screen. “This is your area. You’ll be here, in front of the greenscreen. Have you ever used one of these before?”

“Never needed one outside Second Site.”

“I guess not,” said Jess. “Basically, you do the weather in front of this wall. It looks like you’re pointing to a map, but you’re not. The technical director will take you and superimpose you over the computer generated weather graphics. Simple really.”

Rowie stared at Jess like she was crazy. “So what do I point to?”

“Nothing. But if you keep your eye on this monitor in front of you, you’ll see the graphics there. Now that’s not as easy as it seems because the image is not reversed.”

Jess jumped in front of the greenscreen and started pointing. “See when I point to New York but it comes up that I’m pointing to California? Easy.”

A guy with coffee colored skin and a smile that made the Osmonds’ look in need of floss entered the studio and waved at Jess.

“Hi, Taye,” she called. “Come and meet Rowie.”

Taye was the director. He was relaxed and cheery, the kind of person who didn’t buckle easily. He drilled Rowie in her technique and got her to practice on the Chromakey.

Remember, the viewer needs to think you’re talking to them. You’ve got to look straight into this camera.”

Rowie’s hands were starting to shake. What had she got herself into? “That camera there? Right.”

“And do everything backwards,” he reminded her.

“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” Rowie joked, and then doubled over in panic. “I don’t feel very well.”

“You don’t have to be the perfect meteorologist,” said Jess, almost kindly. “Drew Henderson has that market covered. You just need to be an amusing distraction. Do what you do outside the shop every morning and you’ll be fine.”

“Let’s test you,” said Taye.

Rowie watched him make his way into the tech box and noticed Mac already waiting there.

Jess grabbed her arm and pushed her into position. “Look into the camera in front of you and read the teleprompt.” She waited for a cue from Mac and then motioned for Rowie to start.

“Good evening I’m … ah …”

Jess rolled her eyes. “The asterix means insert your own name. Do you think you can manage that?”

“Sorry. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Okay … start again.”

“Good evening. I’m Rowie Shakespeare. Heavy rains battered the northwest today, causing widespread flooding.” Rowie raised her arm and by utter fluke, pointed straight at the northwest.

“Excellent,” whispered Jess.

Rowie cruised her way through the script and managed to point to Cleveland, Cinncinati and the whole of Texas without too much difficulty. Before she knew it, she’d finished. “That wasn’t too hard,” she beamed.

“You weren’t too bad,” said Jess, relieved.

Mac and Taye made their way back into the studio.

“That was great, Rowie. The camera certainly loves you,” said Taye.

Mac nodded and continued. “There’s one slight hiccup. Drew Henderson has an approval clause in his contract. Unless he’s fired, which would obviously never happen, he gets to approve his replacement. And seeing as he’s stuck in hospital … the mountain moves to Muhammad.”

Rowie looked confused.

“You have to fly to Florida … now. To meet Drew,” Mac clarified. “If all goes well, then you’re on tonight at six.”

Jess glanced at her reflection in the camera. “Should we get Drew some flowers … from all of us here.”

“I’m not taking flowers and you’re not going.” Mac challenged Jess with his eyes. He had no idea what had transpired between Jess and Drew, but today wasn’t the day for them to reconnect and rehash history. “Ready Rowie?”

“I … yeah … sure.” A quick trip to Florida to meet America’s dreamiest man before making her television debut? Ready? Why wouldn’t she be?

CHAPTER ELEVEN
 
 

Drew was playing Sudoku while Jack gave him the rundown on Rowie. “So if you agree, she’ll go on tonight. If not, they’ll probably go with John Price.”

“And then I’ll have to spend months coaxing my viewers back. John has as much appeal as a bowl of tripe.”

Jack placed his laptop in front of Drew and opened Rowie’s photo. “She’s better looking than John.”

Drew gazed at the photo. She was gorgeous. “Where did she study?”

Mac didn’t say, but apparently she’s been doing the weather for years and has quite a following.”

“I’ve never seen her before.” Drew was certain he’d remember her if he had. “Where did Mac find her?”

As if on cue, Mac strode into the room. “Freakin’ airport is a mess.” He glared at Drew, obviously still pissed over the accident. “You in pain?”

“A bit.”

“Good.” Mac rambled on about what an idiot Drew was, but Drew wasn’t listening. His gaze was focused on the woman standing in the doorway. Tiny, gorgeous with creamy skin and flaming hair, real-life Rowie Shakespeare packed an unexpected punch. Drew was horrified to feel himself go hard. He grabbed the tray and positioned it over his crotch.

Her emerald eyes scanned the room and then rested on him. He saw them flicker with sympathy, and then she smiled. It was like someone had lifted the roof and let the sunshine in. Quite simply, she was a knockout. Drew didn’t care if she yodeled the weather while she juggled artichokes. There was no way such a creature would ruin his ratings.

 

 

Rowie took a moment to compose herself before entering the room. She was coping remarkably well until she actually laid eyes on Drew and felt all her blood heat and drain from her legs. The guy was way hotter in real life than on TV. Even flat on his back—a position Rowie would love to see him in more often—Drew Henderson exuded a powerful presence. Long, muscular limbs, tanned skin, sea-blue eyes that could stop a woman in her tracks from the other side of a hospital room. She noticed his hands and wondered what they’d feel like clawing at her bare skin.

She felt transparent and incredibly shy. Thankfully he looked equally surprised to see her, but pulled himself together quickly and gave her a lazy grin.

“Excuse me if I don’t get up.”

Rowie moved towards his outstretched hand. Their fingers wrapped around each other’s. There was a moment of mutual confusion as they both felt a charge of electricity as they touched.

Her green eyes searched deep within his blue ones. Was the recognition mutual? “I’m Rowie. I’m sorry about the accident.”

“I shouldn’t have been up there.” Drew glanced at Mac. “Yes, Mac, I admit it.”

Mac’s anger visibly dissolved. “Good. And, ah … I was going to bring you flowers, but couldn’t be stuffed.”

“It’s the thought that counts.” Drew motioned to Jack. “Rowie, this is Jack, my agent.”

Jack grabbed Rowie’s hand in a warm shake. “It’s so great to meet you. Do you have representation?”

Rowie shook her head, confused, but had to laugh at the man’s enthusiasm. “No … I … I don’t even know what that means.”

Jack pulled a business card out of his pocket and thrust it at her. “Someone to find you work after this. Call me, we’ll talk.”

Rowie nodded. She had no idea who Jack was, but instinctively liked him.

Jack stared at Rowie for a moment. She reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t think who. “Do you do past life regressions?”

“My mother does.”

“I had a regression once. Interesting stuff.”

Drew gave a snort. “No doubt you were royalty, like everyone else who does it.”

“Nope. No one famous.” Jack grinned and gave Rowie a wink. “Maybe next time.”

Drew shuffled uncomfortably. “All Swahili to me.”

Mac didn’t have time for mung bean chitchat. “So Drew, Rowie has been doing the weather for a number of years. Pretty high success rate, but she has a rather unusual way of …”

Drew interrupted. “I’m okay if everyone else is okay with it.”

“Yes, but you should know that Rowie is a psyc …”

Drew waved Mac’s concerns—whatever they were—away and searched Rowie’s eyes. All he needed to know was that she really loved the weather. Was it too much to ask that the person who took his job actually cared about it? Like he did?

Rowie understood, edged closer to the bed and smiled. (Thank God for the well placed dinner tray.) “I’d love the opportunity, Drew.”

Drew was mesmerized. “Then it’s yours.” Hell, she could have his soul if she asked nicely.

“Your leg will be fixed before you know it,” she said. “Until then, I’d love the chance. I really love forecasting the weather. And I’m good … at least I am usually. TV is a completely different … ah … medium. But I’m willing to work hard and learn.”

Drew could feel dark storms and blasting sunshine seep through his bones just by talking to her. He also knew she was the right person for the job. Rowie and Drew beamed at each other, their energies playful yet obviously fascinated. And then Drew turned to the others. “She gets my vote. I think she’s just perfect.”

*

 

Three hours later a helicopter dropped Rowie and Mac off on USBC’s roof. Jess was waiting for them in Mac’s office.

“Drew ok?”

“Fine. The fall may have knocked some sense into him. Main thing is, he liked Rowie.”

I bet.
“Fabby,” said Jess through clenched teeth.

“You’d better get Rowie into wardrobe,” said Mac.

Rowie looked down at her dress. “I’m sorry, isn’t this suitable?”

“It’s great,” said Mac, “But it’s green. You’ll look transparent in front of the greenscreen.”

Rowie was regretting ever agreeing to this. “Perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad thing,” she said. “I could be the invisible weather woman.”

Mac gave her a wink. “They’ve already tried that one in Cleveland. But a psychic weather woman … now that’s a first.”

CHAPTER TWELVE
 
 

Rowie felt frozen with fear. The studio floor was alive with people, and she seemed to be at the center of it all. Her eyes flickered around the room. Everyone knew exactly what to do, which only made her more nervous. She felt like such an imposter.

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