Page 47 of Through the Storms
“She’s not here.” Chloe plunged her fork into the cheesecake and brought the giant bite to her mouth. She let out a satisfied moan as she placed the creamy dessert on her tongue. “Oh…I think I just might be in heaven.”
Chloe was surprised how much food they’d eaten. She’d been preoccupied by their easy conversation and hadn’t paid attention as they ate. “Good thing we aren’t professional storm chasers.”
Riley tilted her head. “Why?”
“Because it obviously affects our appetite.” Chloe waved her hand over the carnage on the table. “We’d weigh eight hundred pounds if we ate like this every day.”
“Very true.” Riley picked up an empty container and shoved it into the bag. “I did okay with the food?”
“How could you go wrong when you bought everything?” Chloe frowned as she crumpled up the empty cheesecake container.
“I still can’t believe you scammed me into sharing mine.” Riley nodded toward the container.
“Scammed? You willingly handed it over to me.”
“Those puppy dog eyes had a lot to do with me relinquishing my share.”
Chloe shrugged. “It’s not my fault you’re a softy. No way would I have given mine away if you’d scarfed yours down before the meal.”
Riley groaned. “Now you tell me. Next time, I won’t be such a sucker.”
Chloe smirked, guessing next time, Riley would willingly share again.
CHAPTER 20
Lana sighed and tossedthe report from the National Weather Service onto her desk. She ran her hand through her hair, careful not to mess it up since she’d be on the air soon.
“Fuck,” she said aloud. She wanted to take both hands and muss her hair. When had she become someone who cared so much about her appearance?Barbie,that was who she’d become.
She retrieved the report from her desk. As she leafed through it, she tried to do the calculations in her head, but she was too distracted, so she grabbed a pencil. She scratched out several equations, and by her best estimate, things could become eventful by Thursday or Friday. Although since it was only Tuesday, a lot could still change.
With her concentration shot, she shoved her pencil back into her desk drawer. All morning, Oakley invaded her thoughts. Last night, Oakley had called from the motel, but it was late, so they didn’t talk long. Lana needed to get to bed so she wouldn’thave bags under her eyes for the morning broadcast. Makeup could do wonders, but makeup artists shouldn’t have to perform miracles.
Their conversation had been awkward. They were sickeningly polite, almost formal, with each other. Lana planned to have a heart to heart with Oakley when she returned home, but it had to be in person. She’d considered forewarning Oakley but knew it would be a mistake. With Oakley’s impatience, she would press to have the conversation immediately, and it would likely end badly.
Several times, Lana had opened her email and considered canceling her interview, but she hadn’t. It wouldn’t hurt to hear what they had to offer, would it? She still hadn’t told Oakley. It wouldn’t be fair springing it on Oakley while she was on the road; at least, that was the justification Lana was using.
Lana sighed. Would Oakley think it odd if Lana called her again this morning? Before she talked herself out of it, she picked up her cellphone.
“Good morning, babe,” Oakley said almost immediately.
Lana knew some women hated the word babe, but coming from Oakley, Lana found it endearing. “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”
“Not as good as I would have if you were with me.”
“Good answer.” Lana laughed. “You about to head out?”
“Soon. The gang’s eating breakfast, and then we’ll roll.”
“Oh, I should let you get back to them.” Lana hid her disappointment. She’d never been needy, but after their argument, she’d felt unsettled. Or maybe it was her looming job interview. Or the impending weather.
“No,” Oakley practically shouted. “I mean, I’m not with them. I’m in the van.”
“What’s going on, Oak?” There was something in Oakley’s voice that seemed off.
“I’m just being stupid.” Oakley cleared her throat. “Are you seeing anything on the radar?”
Lana didn’t like the hesitation in the normally confident, one might say cocky, Oakley. “Is something worrying you?”
