“Well, you sure had the curmudgeon description down. Dude looked all kinds of cranky.”
She gnawed on her bottom lip. He’d had time to think again. She’d tried not to worry about it while she was gone, but unease over him having second thoughts about their little fun arrangement kept invading her mind—and Rick had noticed. He’d pestered the crap out of her about why she was so distracted until she’d finally caved and told him about the handsome fighter who was visiting next door. Rick’s cryptic sigh, followed by, “What does it matter, you’ll only keep him around for a few weeks before you move on, anyway,” was accurate, but still hadn’t kept the man from dominating her thoughts…as he had her bed.
After they climbed out of the truck and stored the gear away, Rick helped her carry the electronics into the house. “Peter’s not going to be happy, is he?”
Gayle made a face. “Nope, but we can’t control a storm system. He’s just going to have to get over it.”
“You don’t think he would pull the funding, do you? I’m enjoying getting a regular paycheck for once.”
She chuckled softly. Like he needed it. She’d met Rick almost eight years ago at a frat party at the University of Alabama in Huntsville. Though he’d had no interest in atmospheric science, he had a BA in painting and art history. When she’d started chasing, he’d asked if he could join her because he wanted to try capturing Mother Nature on canvas. And, boy, could he ever. His paintings sold and sold well. He’d been driving for her ever since—without pay. But then, she hadn’t been getting paid, either, at first. When that had changed, she’d made sure Rick got a little bonus, too, for the loyalty he’d shown her.
“He better not pull our funds. Not if he wants to flaunt Dr. Gayle Matthews as chief meteorologist for WKKS News.”
That PhD had given her a hell of a bargaining chip when Peter had approached her with the job offer. She’d never held one iota of interest in being on TV. But video footage she’d captured last year of an EF-3 tornado that had hit a small town in Oklahoma had garnered national attention. Peter Gates, General Manager of WKKS News, had approached her days later and asked about her credentials. He’d offered her the job of chief meteorologist on the spot, which she’d promptly turned down. She was very happy with her cushy professor position, and had an understanding with the University of Kansas that she did not work during active tornado season so she could conduct her ongoing field research. But when Peter’s offers kept getting more and more interesting, she’d quickly realized what he was truly after—her title as PhD in atmospheric science and her new national recognition. And so the bargaining had begun.
The final agreement was that she would work for him as his chief meteorologist, he would provide her with a decked-out SUV with all the weather crap she needed to continue her research, and she would take tornado season off from the station so she was able to dedicate her time solely to chasing and her research. All the video she caught would be owned by WKKS, as long as it was clear that any footage necessary for her research could still be used by her. She couldn’t care less about the videos, really. The raw data was what she was after. The science.
So, now she had the best equipment money could buy instead of what she could acquire each year on her meager salary—and no freaking tornado season to use it on. The universe was no doubt having itself a real good laugh at Gayle’s frustration.
“We’ll just keep watching the maps and the numbers,” she told Rick as they put the laptops and other gear on her kitchen table. “We’re only a couple weeks in. Things are bound to pick up.”
Hopefully, somewhere out on the miles of flat desolate land. Those were her favorite chases—with only the beauty of Mother Nature spread out before her—and the draw of her research. Once populated areas were affected, though, her research took a backseat to lending a hand where needed. People always came before data. Thankfully, those instances were few and far between.
She inhaled and turned to look at Rick. “Go home. Get some rest. You know the drill.”
He saluted her. “Aye, aye, boss lady. You do the same.”