Really Something Read Free Page B

the station stuck to covering news in Tempest and the surrounding towns. Steve made daily sacrifices to the TV gods, hoping for a story that would put WTMT-TV on the map.
    Thus far, WTMT-TV wasn’t much more than a detour on the TV dial, even as the corporate honchos threw out new programming with all the accuracy of a blind dart player. With those east coast dollars behind him, Steve had hope and a decent budget. Those two things made WTMT-TV look like a real station. Faking it till WTMT-TV could make it—or die trying.
    The WTMT-TV evening news anchors, Jane Betterman and Klein Wilson, sat behind a particleboard desk painted to resemble metal, their posture perfect, their veneered smiles gleaming. Jane’s protruding pregnancy was well hidden by the desk, her extra baby weight camouflaged by a dark dress. Three cameras formed a semicircle five feet away, shadowed by the glaring lights focused on Jane and Klein.
    Particularly on Klein, who had requested extra lighting to conceal his expanding bald spot. A light strategically directed to the side and a few sprays of hair-in-a-can preserved Klein’s youthly image, at least on TV. Anyone who came within six feet of the in-person Klein realized the newscaster involved a lot of artfully applied makeup—
    And not much substance.
    Still, he was the anchor, and Duncan was just the weatherman.
    When he’d bucked his father’s prescribed career path and applied at WTMT-TV, he’d been looking for a serious journalism spot. Hard-hitting investigative-type work, something that would eventually propel him to work on one of the coasts. To a job that meant something in the bigger scheme of things. His life accomplishments thus far—bringing the high school football team to three state championships, taking the college team to two—had about as much meaning to Duncan as whipped cream. He wanted more.
    He wanted to make a difference. In one of his own dreams, not the ones his father had laid out, and Duncan had followed, day after day, until five years ago.
    Until the day he’d seen the ad in the paper and took a chance. Decided that day to turn his back on the family façade and carve out his own path. Prove his father wrong.
    Steve, who’d known Duncan all his life, had said the station was going places—and would take Duncan with it. With that friendship in his back pocket, Duncan figured the reporter job was a shoo-in, despite the blank spot on his resume for internships and experience.
    â€œDunk,” Steve had said during the interview, leaning back in his chair and tipping it, just as he had in English class, “I have a proposition for you. Be the weatherman, instead of a reporter. You’re simply not Geraldo Rivera material, buddy. Your S-factor is way too high.”
    â€œMy S-factor?”
    â€œSex appeal. The ladies are gonna love you.” Steve chuckled. “Just like always, hey, Dunk?”
    Duncan had shifted in his seat. “I was looking for something serious.”
    Steve laughed. “Yeah, right. This from the guy who took his English teacher’s daughter out to dinner so he wouldn’t have to take the final?”
    Duncan ignored the reference to his former self. He had changed since high school, changed a hell of a lot, but no one seemed to notice. “Steve, I don’t know much about weather.”
    Steve waved a dismissive hand. “What’s to learn? Sunny, partly cloudy, or cloudy. There you go. All your weather in one sentence. Read the pile of shit the National Weather Service sends over every day if you want to throw in a few terms here and there. Just look good and the ladies won’t care if you’re off by a degree or two.”
    On the ride home, he’d reconsidered and decided sticking with business was safe. Predictable. The Henry way.
    But the next day, rainy weather and slick roads had changed Duncan’s life, pushing whatever hope for a future he had over