Layla's Forecast

by Smoak, Ivy

  Layla's Forecast

  By Ivy Smoak

  Copyright 2015 Ivy Smoak

  All Rights Reserved

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  CONTENTS

  Title

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Read More

  ARC Team

  Also by Ivy Smoak

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Layla

  I unlocked my mailbox and pulled out the mail. Bills, spam, bills, spam. I stopped in the middle of the staircase. There was an envelope from the National Weather Service. This was the third time that I'd applied for a job there. After two rejections, I was really hoping this was good news. I ran up the stairs and opened up the door to my apartment.

  If it was another rejection, not knowing was better than knowing. I set the envelope down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. The envelope stared back at me. It looked like the other two envelopes I had gotten from the National Weather Service. That probably wasn't good. If I had gotten the job, they probably would have called me. The envelope and I were having a stare down. It was winning.

  I sighed and got off the couch. I poured myself a glass of wine and stared at the envelope from the kitchen. The first rejection I got was right after I graduated from college. They said I didn't have enough experience. It was disappointing, but it made sense. So I got a job at the local news station. I worked my way up to reporting the weather and then applied again. They said I wasn't a good fit for the position. That one didn't make sense. And it stung. I didn't want to report the weather in Miami forever. I wanted to make a difference. Wearing tight clothes and tons of makeup wasn't my idea of a fulfilling career.

  I took a sip of wine. I thought I would have shaken this town right after graduating. I wanted to move north and experience what a real snow storm was like. And most importantly I wanted to stop working for Channel Nine News. They didn't take me seriously at all. A few months ago they had started making me do this ridiculous segment called Layla's Predictions, where I had to predict anything but the weather. It was such a joke. Maybe that's why the National Weather Service didn't want me. They probably thought I was a joke too.

  The envelope stared back at me from the other room. No. This time is different. This time, I got it. I took a deep breath, walked back into the living room, and picked up the envelope. Please, please, please. I slowly tore off the top of the envelope, pulled out the single sheet of paper, and unfolded it.

  Miss Layla Torrez,

  Thank you so much for your application for a position at the National Weather Service. Unfortunately, at this time, we have filled the position for which you applied. We were looking for someone with name recognition to lead...

  I stopped reading. "Damn it," I mumbled, and tossed the sheet of paper on the coffee table. Maybe I should just try to get a position as a weather girl up north. If I landed a job in Philly, they'd have to notice me. I just needed to be in a bigger city. Nothing was keeping me here anyway. I had broken up with my ex over six months ago. I needed a change. I used to be adventurous. When had I become one of those people stuck in a terrible routine? I needed to say yes to the next opportunity that came my way.

  Chapter 2

  Ethan

  I clicked on the email that my boss, Cliff, had just sent me. It was actually addressed to the members of the board, but Cliff had copied me on it. After reading the first sentence, I froze. That asshole.

  I stood up and peered around my cubicle toward Cliff's office. It was already empty. He didn't even have the nerve to send it while he was in the office because he knew I'd want to talk to him. Not that he was in the office that much anyway.

  "Hey, Ethan," Bill said and plopped down in my seat. "Susan has her book club meeting tonight. Wanna go grab a drink?"

  I didn't say anything. I should have known Cliff would put his name on my work. And he was lucky he wasn't here. If he was, I'd probably punch him in the face.

  "You okay, man?"

  "No, not really. Cliff took credit for the Blackstone Report. I spend four months researching and writing that thing, and then he just put his name on it before sending it to the board."

  "Did you really not see that coming?"

  "I guess I kind of did. I was just hoping that for once he wouldn't be a total asshole."

  "Yeah right. So how about that drink? I can be your wingman."

  "Yes to the drink. No to the wingman."

  Bill stood up. "You've been single for six months. You have to get back out there."

  "It's only been four months."

  "Well, the two months you tried to make it work didn't really count. Madeline cheated on you. Done. There was nothing to work on. So it's been six months. Which means you need to move on."

  I sighed. I knew Bill was right, but I didn't know where to begin. I had been dating Madeline since college. Just the thought of picking up a girl at a bar made me start to sweat. "I don't know, man. I guess I just don't know where to start."

  "That's what we're going to do tonight. Come on, let's go." Bill started walking toward the elevator.

  I didn't get to hang out with him as much now that he was married. Susan was great, but she always made him do super lame things. I was surprised he wasn't going to the all women's book club with her. I quickly caught up to him. I just needed to make him forget about being my wingman. "Let's focus on getting a drink."

  "That doesn't take any focus."

  "Right. I still can't believe that Cliff took credit for my idea."

  "Let's drown your sorrows." He clapped me on the back as we stepped on the elevator.

  ***

  "How about her?" Bill asked and nodded his head toward a blonde girl standing alone at the bar.

  I took a sip of my beer. "Too blonde."

  Bill laughed. "Too blonde, too thin, too short, too tall...what the hell, Ethan? Just go talk to one of them."

  "None of them really seem like my type."

  "Why, because they're not Madeline? Come on, man."

  I looked up at the TV. Channel 9 News was on, but they were switching to the weather soon. Watching Layla Torrez's weather forecast had become a highlight of my days. A few seconds later she came onto the screen. Now she was the perfect woman. Her skin was perfectly tanned and she had dark brown eyes and long brunette hair. She always wore tight dresses that seemed to push her breasts up. And her smile made me smile.

  "Oh, I see," Bill said.

  "What?" I asked, without looking at him. My eyes were transfixed on Layla.

  "No one here is good enough because you think you can score a girl like Layla Torrez."

  "I didn't say that." But if a girl like her was here, I'd definitely try to talk to her.

  "I hate to break it to you, Ethan, but you're not ready for a ten. How about you start with the seven at the end of the bar. Work your way up from there."

  "That's okay," I said without even looking at who he was talking about.

  "You're so lame. Susan will be home soon so I can't be here much longer. Talk to one girl. Now." Bill shoved me off the bar stool.

  "Geez, fine." I looked around the small room. I hadn't had to use a pick up line in years. How had I first talked to Madeline? We were friends first. I don't know. I just wanted to go home.

  "Now." Bill pushed my arm.

/>   Fuck. I walked over to the girl that was too blonde. Despite what Bill said, too blonde was a thing. I just meant that she looked fake. She definitely wasn't a natural blonde. I stopped at her table and looked behind me.

  "Get her number," Bill mouthed at me and pointed to his cell phone.

  Ugh. I put my elbow on the table and smiled at her.

  She immediately smiled back.

  "There are two reasons why you should go on a date with me," I said.

  "Is that so?"

  "Mhm. Do you want to guess what they are?"

  "You're handsome and endearing?"

  "I was going to go with something more like no one will try to steal me from you and sometimes I can be pretty funny."

  She laughed half heartedly.

  "Was my line really that bad?"

  "It wasn't great." She smiled. She seemed to like me making fun of myself more than my pick up line. Maybe I just needed a better line.

  "Actually, you remind me of cheese," I said.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Because I want you on everything."

  "I'm lactose intolerant." She grabbed her drink and walked away from me.

  "Okay," I mumbled to myself.

  "Dude, what the hell was that?" Bill walked up next to me.

  "She just wasn't interested. I think she's a lesbian."

  "You're such an idiot. Every girl that shoots you down isn't necessarily gay. She turned you down because you can't compare a girl to cheese and expect her to think it's a compliment."

  "But cheese is amazing. I was being nice. Especially because that girl was anything but amazing. I'd choose cheese over her any day."

  "Yeah, but girls are weird."

  "How did you even hear me? Weren't you sitting over there a second ago? And you're supposed to be helping me, not insulting me. Besides, now I'm hungry. Let's go get some cheese steaks."

  "Here." He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to the bar, toward the girl I assumed he said was a seven.

  "Hey," he said to the girl. "This is my friend, Ethan. And ever since we got here, he hasn't stopped looking at you."

  "Is that so?" She smiled at me.

  "You're definitely the prettiest girl here," I said. I wasn't sure if that was true or not. I hadn't been looking.

  Her face blushed.

  "I actually have to get going," Bill said. "Will you take care of Ethan for me?"

  "I think I can do that." She smiled at me again.

  "Okay." Bill slapped my back. "Later, man."

  All I wanted to do was leave too. I did want to get over Madeline, but I wasn't sure if this was the way to do it. I just needed to wait until I met the right girl. Not just any girl.

  "So..." she said. "I'm Julie." She stuck her hand out to me.

  "Nice to meet you, Julie."

  She took a sip from her beer bottle. "You look like you're in really good shape. Do you work out a lot?"

  That was worse than my cheese pick up line. "If you're asking if I can pick you up, I'm sure that I can."

  She frowned. "Why wouldn't you be able to pick me up? I'm not like...huge or anything."

  "Oh, no. You're not fat. That's not what I meant at all. It was just a pun on picking you up because of pick up lines." I laughed awkwardly.

  "Okay." She looked embarrassed. I needed to make her laugh again.

  "But speaking of working out. Did you know that every minute you kiss someone you lose almost three calories? Maybe we could burn some calories together?"

  "Stop calling me fat. What is wrong with you?"

  "I'm not calling you fat. I'm just..."

  "Whatever, man." She grabbed her purse and fled the bar.

  I sighed and sat back down at the bar. That was not great.

  Chapter 3

  Layla

  "Do you want cheese on that?" said the man in the food truck.

  "Yes," I said without hesitation. Saying yes to everything had made my whole day seem better. I had barely thought about getting rejected for a third time from the National Weather Service. I would have said yes to the food truck man either way though. Who wouldn't want cheese on a cheese steak? That was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard.

  I handed the man a ten dollar bill and grabbed my sandwich. If I really was serious about moving, Philly did seem like the perfect place. And they were supposed to have the best cheese steaks ever. I took a huge bite as I walked back toward the studio. Not that these weren't good. This cheese steak was amazing. I took another huge bite.

  "There you are," Claire said and ran toward me. "I was looking all over for you. Did you hear back from the National Weather Service?"

  I looked around to see if anyone from the news station was near us. I didn't want them to find out I was looking for other jobs, even if I hadn't gotten it. "Yeah. I didn't get it."

  "What is wrong with them?"

  I laughed.

  "I really thought you'd get it this time."

  "Thanks, Claire."

  "So what was their lame excuse this time?"

  "The said they had seen me reporting the weather and thought my make up was really horrible and they couldn't possible hire..."

  "Shut up. They did not."

  I laughed. Claire was my makeup artist for the show. And also one of my best friends.

  "Of course they didn't say that. They just wanted someone with more name recognition. Which is crazy, because I assume I'd be working behind the scenes at a desk. A desk job sounds so good."

  Claire laughed. "I don't think anyone has ever said that."

  "Well it sounds good to me. I want to actually make a difference."

  "I know. You'll get it next time."

  "Maybe."

  "Don't give up, Layla. You said they wanted name recognition? Then let's give them name recognition. You should start some social media sites." She pulled out her phone and typed my name into Google. "Oh my God."

  "What?"

  "Someone's already made a few accounts about you."

  "What do you mean?" I grabbed her phone and clicked on the Twitter account with my name on it. There were tons of pictures of me on it, mostly zoomed up on my breasts. I hated Marty for making me wear such tight clothes. He was the worst producer ever. "Delete this." I pushed the phone back into her hand.

  "I can't delete it. Once it's on the internet, it's permanent. How do you think Kim Kardashian became so popular? That sex video went viral. And now she's famous. Maybe this will help with your name recognition."

  "But I don't want to go viral. Not for something like that. Maybe for accurately reporting a hurricane."

  "Accurately reporting a hurricane doesn't exactly have what it takes to go viral, Layla. You should totally do something crazy when you're on the air."

  "I'm not trying to get fired. That site is probably why I didn't get the National Weather Service job. They think I'm a joke."

  "I'm sure that's not true. But really, I think my plan is pretty good."

  "I already have to do tons of stupid stuff when I'm on the air. The whole Layla's Predictions segment is a joke. And I do that all the time."

  "But it's not scandalous. You should do something scandalous."

  "No." I bit my lip. I'm supposed to be saying yes. Maybe Claire was right. I needed to do something different if the National Weather Service was ever going to acknowledge me. And if I wanted to land a gig in a bigger city up north, I'd need to stand out too. "Okay, maybe." That was at least a little closer to a yes.

  "Maybe? Wow. So what are you thinking? I got it!" she said as we opened the door to the studio. "You should do a nip slip!"

  "I still want people to think I'm professional."

  "Obviously we'd make it look like an accident."

  "Let's think of something smaller. Oh, I know!" I snapped my fingers together. "I should just say something scandalous. Like let something slip about my political views. That would certainly get people talking."

  "You're so lame."

  Chapter 4
/>   Ethan

  "How was last night?" Bill said and sat down across from me in the break room.

  "It was fine." I took a bite of my turkey sandwich.

  "Just fine?"

  "Yup. How was Susan's book club? What were they reading?"

  "I don't know what they were reading. But she definitely had too much wine. I got lucky last night."

  "You took advantage of your drunk wife? Bill, I'm shocked."

  "No. She gets super horny when she's drunk. She was basically begging for it."

  "I didn't know that about Susan. Huh. I'm starting to see her in a whole new light. Good for you." I took another bite of my sandwich.

  "I don't even know what you mean by that. But back to you. Did you get lucky last night?"

  "Yes, actually. On my way home I found a heads up penny. And I got to make a wish. But I don't want to say anything else. Because if I tell you my wish, it won't come true."

  "What the hell are you talking about? I mean did you get laid?"

  "Laid? Oh, you're talking about Julie?"

  "I don't know. Is that what the seven's name was?"

  "Yes. Geez. You shouldn't refer to her that way. It's a little rude, Bill."

  "So that's a yes? That's awesome. I didn't think you had it in you. She was pretty hot too. Does that mean you're finally over the dirty cheater?"

  "I didn't sleep with Julie."

  "What? Why? I set you up perfectly."

  "I don't know. Our conversation didn't even last that long after you left."

  "What did you do?"

  I shrugged. "I called her fat or something. I don't know."

  "Dude, why would you say she was fat?"

  "I didn't. My pick up lines just went south."

  "You're terrible at this."

  "I'm out of practice. And I would have tried harder if I was actually attracted to her."

  "You didn't have to marry her. You just need to get out of whatever this funk is that you're in. I'm sure Susan has a single friend she can set you up with."