Her frown turned into a slight smile, and then she laughed. “Okay, but listen up good. You want to map over…”
They’d completed the mapping when Isabella returned and Galvin handed her the maps. “Okay, let’s head over the studio,” she said after a quick scan.
“I’m covering the morning shift tomorrow, also. I want you to come in so we can get you trained on setting the time lapse cameras.” She continued to walk, barking out expectations of what she demanded of her new employee. “You’ll probably end up covering the morning shift in a few weeks and you will also work with our email.” Isabella paused before an unopened door and turned to face Galvin. “I don’t expect any more from of my people than I give, but I give one hundred and ten percent. Do we understand each other?”
Galvin nodded. “Understood.”
They continued into the studio. Galvin found the size of the studio surprising. The room looked bigger on television.
“That is Robo Control.” Isabella pointed toward a large raised desk with a man sitting behind it. “The cameras are controlled from there. That eliminates the need for individual camera operators.” She waved at the three cameras in front of the news desk, which the man behind the control desk manipulated.
Walking behind her, Galvin admired the slight sway of her bottom in the snug fitting black skirt. His interest in Robo Control was next to none. The woman giving him the tour, now “She” was a different story. Everything about her interested him, not just her sexy body.
“Here is where I do the weather forecast,” she walked over to a large green screen. “I have the monitors on either side to let me know where I am on the map. The engineer in the control room inserts the images viewers see on their television screens at home. Magic to the outsider,” a tiny smile played across her full mouth. “Any questions?”
He caught a whiff of her perfume and inhaled, committing the scent to memory. The fragrance was her; light and airy with a hint of something he couldn’t define, other than Isabella.
Galvin urged his male member to lie down and play nice. “No, I’ll just watch and absorb.”
“Take a seat in one of those chairs,” she pointed to a row of folding chairs along the wall facing the news desk.
“Isabella, you’re on in five. Let’s do a mike check.” The director of the evening news handed her a small black box and moved in to attach a tiny black object to her lapel.
Isabella pulled her jacket up and reached around to clip the box onto the back of her skirt waistband, then her long fingers smoothed the jacket.
“No butt shots,” she called out to the man in the camera control booth. “This thing makes my ass look even bigger than it is.”
“Whatever you say, Isabella. The last time was an accident.” The cameraman laughed and gave her a lewd wink before she went over to take her seat behind the news desk.
The anchorman sitting beside her leaned over and whispered in Isabella’s ear. Whatever the man said didn’t set too well from the body language she projected and his female co-anchor didn’t seem happy either.
Interesting, Galvin thought as he observed the mortals. Izzy, what goes on here? Are you involved in a triangle?
“Ready on one,” the director called out. “Three…two…one.”
The director pointed to the three people behind the desk and all smiled into the camera, the best of friends.
“You’re amazing, Izzy,” Galvin murmured admiring her relaxed manner on camera in a situation that was definitely strained off camera. This gave him a new sense of appreciation for the woman who interested him on more levels than the strong physical attraction existing between them. Yes, definitely a woman of many layers and he wanted to discover them all.
CHAPTER THREE
“I don’t care if you disagree.” Isabella folded her arms across her chest and glared at Galvin. The man was on the job less than a week and a miracle had occurred. A miracle in the fact she hadn’t wrapped her hands around that strong neck and strangled him. “I’m in charge here and we do things my way.”
“Okay. But, I’d like to point out that you were wrong on your projections yesterday.” Galvin held up his hands to indicate surrender.
“No weather forecaster is completely correct all the time. Today is a new day and I say there’s a sixty percent chance of thunderstorms and that’s the number we’re going to use.” God, she hated how he used that face, the ‘oh, I’m so sorry, forgive me’ face she’d seen him use on Sandy too many times this week. She saw how the intern tripped over herself in an effort to help when he did. The problem was, Isabella also had the urge to agree to anything he wanted. Almost, but so far she’d been able to resist. After all, she was a woman of the world, not a young co-ed trying to impress the big man on campus.
“If you enjoy being wrong, go ahead and put out that projection, but I say we’re going to have rain today. A lot of rain.” Galvin sat back in his chair and smiled.
The cocky grin spread across Galvin’s full mouth and mischief danced in his deep blue his eyes. Isabella dropped her arms and picked up several papers off her desk. Holding something in her hands would control the impulse to reach out and brush back the shock of hair that constantly fell across his forehead. That little brush against his skin would tempt her to run her fingertips over the blue pinstriped shirt and down the well-developed chest to the waistband of his gray slacks. There she’d have to struggle with the belt that held the pants in place, denying her view to something she thought about way too much. The heat forming between her legs brought her back to the present.
“I’ll take my chances.” She turned and stalked out of the weather pod, but not before she caught the knowing look Sandy directed her way.
Was she that easy to read?
She fought hard to forget the dreams haunting her nights. The ones in which she escaped into a world where her image wasn’t a priority and she could give in to her lust for Galvin Haldor. So what if he is the most interesting man you know. He’s also the most irritating. It’s only lust that makes your heart do little flip-flops every time you brush against him or he smiles at you.
Last night’s dream was especially memorable. She’d been alone in the newsroom when he came in and pushed everything off her desk. He set her on the edge and pushed up her skirt. His fingers slipped under the silk barrier of her panties and massaged her sex. For the first time in her life she experienced an orgasm resulting from a dream.
“Ah, Sweet Cheeks, just the woman I wanted to see. We need to talk.” Kyle Morgan blocked her path.
“Not in the mood, Kyle. Let me pass.” Now a dream about this one would be a major nightmare. Isabella attempted to step around the current bane of her existence.
“Come on baby, don’t be that way.” Kyle moved with her and cut off her escape.
“What the hell do you want?” The men of this world really were getting on her nerves. Tonya’s immortal idea sounded better all the time.
“I just want to caution you about the stud you’ve added to your weather stable.” Kyle reached out and took her arm when she tried to walk in the opposite direction.
“Kyle, I’m not even going to acknowledge your idiotic blithering and ask what you’re talking about.” She pushed his hand from her elbow.
“Tell the pretty boy to stay away from my woman.”
“Excuse me. Your woman? You actually have a woman?” Isabella couldn’t resist the dig.
“You know Joanne and I have a thing.” Kyle adjusted his tie and smirked.
“Oh, how interesting, and here I thought she and Sam Kent were married. Must have gotten the wrong information.” Isabella didn’t try to suppress the giggle that slipped out.
“Yeah, well they have problems. They may not be married much longer.”
Isabella wrinkled her nose in disgust as Kyle scratched his balls before he slipped his hands into his pockets and proceeded to toy with them. There was no understanding some people’s taste. Granted Sam Kent could be dull, but how Jo
anne could prefer this crude, obnoxious jerk was beyond her. The stupid woman should focus her energy on the husband who adored her.
“Make sure you tell the weather stud not to dip his wick in my pool. Do I make myself clear?” Kyle leaned forward and hissed into her ear.
Holy Mary and Jesus. He actually expected her to deliver a warning to another man for him. This day couldn’t end soon enough to suit her.
“You listen to me, Mr. Morgan. If you want the weather stud to keep away from ‘your woman’,” Isabella wiggled two fingers on each hand to emphasize her sarcasm, “you tell him. I don’t deliver messages that are stupid to begin with and especially ones sent by an idiot, to boot.”
The look on Kyle’s face when she released her parting shot improved her mood tremendously. Looking directly at his crotch she’d said, “And, another thing, no one enjoys watching you play pocket billiards.”
“Bella, you’re late and you’re wet.” Isabella’s mother wore her best dress and pearls.
Isabella groaned to herself, her mood sinking lower. Just what she suspected. Her mother was trying another fix-up.
“You’re the big weather person. Couldn’t you tell it was going to rain?” Angela reached over and squeezed water out of Isabella’s hair. “Go get a towel and the hair dryer. They’re in my bathroom. Fix yourself up.”
“Why, Ma? The family’s seen me looking like this and worse.” Like she didn’t know there would be a nice Italian man sitting there when she walked into the living room.
“We have company. Your brother is here and a pretty young friend of his.” Angela shooed her in the direction of her parent’s bedroom.
A pretty young friend of his translated into a female in her mother’s view, and Isabella didn’t see Gino showing up with a girl.
Maybe she was wrong and the man Ma brow beat into coming tonight had something come up. But it sounded like whatever unsuspecting female her mother managed to convince she had the answer to the woman’s single status, did though. Poor Gino. He hated these evenings more than she did, if possible.
The sleek straight hair she walked out of her apartment with was now a thing of the past. Laying the hair dryer down, Isabella pushed at the ringlets that now framed her face and used her fingers in an attempt to bring more order to the riot of curls. Feeling the soft silky stands, her mind wandered to hair of gold, shot with streaks of copper and fire. Her fingers itched, just as they did each time she saw the lock of hair that seemed determined to fall into Galvin Haldor’s eyes, the urge to touch almost impossible to control.
If Leif Moultar wanted to hire the son of one of his friends, why on earth did the man have to have one who looked like a Nordic god? Her hands tingled when she envisioned them touching and caressing every inch of Galvin Haldor’s luscious body. The wide shoulders, the broad chest, the tapering waist down to the… Heaven save her from the fascination she had with Vikings and Nordic mythology since she was a young girl.
Isabella shook her head and saw large, lust filled dark eyes staring back at her from the mirror. She needed to focus on the fact this man drove her insane with his constant challenges on her decisions, not how much he reminded her of the Viking she’d always dreamed of carrying her away. She turned from the mirror to go meet tonight’s fate.
Laughter directed her toward the kitchen. Good grief, was that Gino laughing too? He never enjoyed these functions. His norm was to spend the evening wearing a look of such martyrdom; he put their mother’s best efforts in that department to shame.
Her light mood evaporated when she entered the room. Her mother forgot to mention the male guest for this evening. Thank heavens she was able to stop the groan poised against her lips.
“Bella, come meet our guests,” Angela motioned for Isabella to join the group gathered around the island in the center of the kitchen.
“This is Jane Smith.” Angela smiled and patted the arm of the young blonde woman beside her. “Don’t you think she and Gino look good together?”
Isabella wasn’t too sure about that since Gino stood down at the end of the island in an animated conversation with their father and the other new face in the group. Given her brother’s dark hair and olive complexion, he’d definitely contrast Jane’s light blonde hair and white skin. Insipid flitted through her mind when she searched for a word to describe the pale creature in front of her.
Wow, Mom’s finally run out Italian friends with daughters.
“Gino, Lou, stop bothering Tom and let him come meet Bella.” Angela instructed the men in her family.
All three males moved in unison closer to the women. Good lord, it looked like her mother finally reached the end of her Italian stable of singles for both her children.
“Tom Waters, this is our Bella. I know you’ve probably seen her on television.” The pride in Angela’s voice surprised Isabella. Pride over her career wasn’t something she heard conveyed by her mother very often.
“I sure have. Great to meet you, Isabella. I count on you to help me plan my day with your weather projections.” Tom smiled, displaying a gap in his white teeth. “I think I’m going to have to get a new television set though. Mine doesn’t do you justice.”
She felt the blood rush to her face. Excessive compliments always made her uncomfortable. Isabella took in the red hair, freckles and blue eyes of her date for the evening. The skinny body was given ballast by the huge ears that stuck out from his head. She felt herself responding to the gapped tooth grin and decided he reminded her of the puppet Howdy Doody she’d studied in broadcast history during her college years.
Ma couldn’t have gotten any further from the Italian blood lines she usually focused on with tonight’s fix up selections if she’d put an ad in the paper. This gave a strong indication of how determined Angela had become in getting her children married.
“Tom’s a financial advisor. He works with his father who helps us manage our money.” Isabella knew this was Angela speak for ‘Tom has a job and money’.
How the hell was she supposed to respond to that little tidbit? “Great. Always nice to keep it in the family.” She felt like an idiot and Howdy Doody’s face reflected the embarrassment she felt at her inane remark.
“Here, Sis.” Gino placed a glass of red wine in her hand. “Drink up. You’re behind.” She gulped down the contents of the glass without coming up for air.
“Gino, no. She needs to eat. You know Bella can’t handle wine on an empty stomach.” Angela slapped his hand when he reached for the bottle to refill Isabella’s glass. “Here, make yourself useful. Take this bread to the table.”
Gino rolled his eyes at his sister and disappeared with the basket of bread.
Her mother handed her the salad. “Take this and I’ll bring the Chicken Cacciatore. Okay everybody. Dinner’s ready. Take your seats.”
Good heavens her mother put name cards out for the seating arrangements. The woman was obvious in her determination that the fix-ups get to know each other, with Gino seated beside the ghost and Isabella’s name card next to Howdy Doody.
Isabella didn’t think things were going the way her mother wanted. Gino barely talked with poor Jane. Instead, he spent dinner talking with everyone else at the table, especially Tom who sat directly across from him.
She tried to draw Jane into the conversation, but the meek young woman would only duck her head and smile, after answering yes or no to Isabella’s questions. Finally, Isabella gave up and devoted her efforts to the rest of the group.
“Bella, you want to help me with dessert?” Angela stood and started to clear the table. A knot formed in her stomach as she thought about the real meaning of help with the dishes. She envisioned a turkey on a spit rotating round and round as it roasted. Her mother had a way of bringing that picture to mind any time she wanted ‘a talk’, no matter how she got the message across. The bottom line was the person selected to help ended up getting grilled and unfortunately as far as Isabella was concerned, she usually got the honor.
She gathered up the dishes around her and followed her mother into the kitchen. God, she loved the way everyone else sat and didn’t bother to help with clean up. You’d think Jane would at least get off her dead-ass and offer to pitch in. Instead, she continued to sit like a lump on a log, eyes downcast while toying with the spoon on the table in front of her.
Relief, at Gino’s alternative life style, flowed through. With her luck if her brother was into girls, he would have ended up with someone like Jane to contend with at every family get together.
“Bella, so how do you think this evening is going?” Angela stacked pots and pans in the dishwasher as she started the inquisition.
Good grief, Ma was blind if she needed to ask that question. Talk about being out of touch with reality. “I don’t think Jane and Gino have much in common to be honest with you, Ma.”
“I guess you’re right. She doesn’t seem to talk much and you know with our Gino, a girl has to have lots of personality to get his attention.” Angela stopped talking for a moment and seemed to mull over the situation with her baby boy and her latest attempt to steer him toward the altar, and then shrugged.
She shot a wicked grin in Isabella’s direction. “What about you and Tom? Now there’s a man with personality.”
No denying that. He and Gino blabbered all evening. Isabella discovered things about her brother’s hobbies she never knew under Tom’s questions on books and movies. “He seems like a nice enough guy.”
“What do you mean nice enough? He’s crazy about you. Didn’t you hear him say how beautiful he thinks you are and he watches you on television?” Her mother pulled the best coffee service out of a cabinet and set the cups and saucers on the tray, making sure to leave room for the dessert she’d be dishing up.
Yeah, right! Angela really was wearing her rose colored glasses tonight, if she couldn’t see the obvious between her and Tom. “Yeah, but there’s no chemistry there, Ma. We don’t have much in common. He and Gino seem to have more of the same interests.”
Nordic Heat Page 4
