Page 45 of Weather Girl

Torrance shows up a few minutes later, looking elegant as always in an ankle-length black coat with a faux fur collar, and when Seth presents the succulent to her, she turns nearly the shade of her signature lipstick.

I can’t help wondering if both of them being late is some sign they’re meant to be together or if it’s as simple as neither of them wanting to be the first one here.

Craig guides all of us toward the ramp that will take us to the boat, a small but sleek white yacht with the name Seas the Day. Russell and I fall in step behind the Hales, but halfway up the ramp, he comes to a dramatic stop.

“You okay?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I—I’m sorry. I just get... a little seasick sometimes.”

Torrance whirls around, a breeze sifting through her glossy curls. “Seasick?”

Russell holds up a hand. “It’s really no big deal. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” With that, he doubles over, clutching his stomach.

It’s such a performance that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

“Look, Russ, if you need to sit this one out, that’s okay,” Seth says. “We’d hate for you to be stuck if you’re not feeling well.”

“And the wind speeds are the highest they’ve been all week. It’s supposed to reach thirty miles per hour tonight,” Torrance adds. “Water might be rocky.”

Russell continues to milk it with a long, shaky breath, and when he glances at me, I half expect to catch him wink. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. That’s probably for the best.”

“I’d hate for you to miss out,” I say, stepping into my role: convincing them we don’t want to leave before making the assessment that Russell’s too sick to take himself home.

“He’s looking a little pale.” Torrance sounds concerned. “Do you want to make sure he gets home okay, Abrams?”

It’s a miracle I don’t bite through my lower lip entirely—because I was going to suggest the exact same thing. Either Torrance cares deeply about Russell, or she’s realized this means an opportunity to soak up all that Moonlit Magic with Seth. Alone.

“I can do that.” I pretend to give Seas the Day a longing glance. “I’m so sorry. We were really looking forward to this.”

“Well—” Torrance breaks off, glancing between Seth and the two of us. “We should still go, right, Seth? It would be a shame to waste it...”

She wants to spend time with him.

Or she wants a free boat ride and dinner, but still, they’re going to be on that yacht for three whole hours. Either they’ll emerge with a newfound affection for each other or one of them will toss the other overboard.

“I’m game if you are,” Seth says. I can tell he’s trying to sound as though he has a tremendous amount of chill about this alone time with Torrance when he probably has about zero. “Thanks again, you two. It’s too bad you won’t be able to enjoy it.”

I wave my hand. “Don’t mention it. Have a great night.”

I link my right arm through Russell’s, and he lets out another moan for good measure. Once my back is turned, I can’t help it—I start laughing, and Russell’s shoulders start shaking, and we rush off the ramp as quickly as possible.

“Oh my god,” I hear Torrance say. “Remember this? It’s the same bottle of wine from our first date.”

When we’re safely back on land, Russell meets my gaze, moonlight glinting off his glasses, and I know we’re thinking the same thing:

It’s working.

16

FORECAST:

An inevitable collision of two high-pressure systems; beware falling objects

A NEWSROOM NEVER really sleeps. While I’m used to getting to the station when it’s still dark out, nine o’clock is a different kind of dark. Almost eerie.

Russell had some coverage to wrap up for the website, and since he’s the one driving, I wasn’t about to complain. Sure, I could have taken an Uber home, but I must have been a matchmaker—or more specifically, a shadchan—in a previous life, because imagining Torrance and Seth on that yacht together has filled me with too much adrenaline. I’m not ready for the night to end.

“You really sold the seasick thing,” I say as we head into the empty Dugout. “You looked truly miserable.”

---