A Thousand Miles

Part 1

"What?"

JoLynn Travis couldn't restrain the impulse to rise. She bolted straight up out of her seat and onto her feet, a surge of adrenaline shooting through her so fast her fingers tingled. The chair behind her tipped backwards, hung there on two legs for some split of a second, then righted itself, bumping the backs of her knees as it came to rest on all four again.

"Now, JoLynn." Truman Overton drawled her name in the patronizing way that always made her grit her teeth. "Don't overreact."

"Overreact!" JoLynn hated the increasing shrillness of her voice. It was nothing if not unprofessional. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. But one deep breath just wasn't enough. She took two more before speaking again, going to great lengths to keep her voice steady and calm. "I...I'm sorry. I guess I'm not understanding... You say you're pleased with the show in general."

Truman nodded. "In general, yes."

"You say you appreciate all the time and hard work the crew has invested. Years of hard work."

"That's right." He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing.

"And yet, you've hired another host. Meaning that...what...I'm no longer the host? You're replacing me? Am I...fired?"

She took another breath, despising the tremor in her voice. So much for steady and calm.

"Girl, just sit down and hear me out."

That he'd just marginalized her again by calling her "girl" might have justified the spark of anger that flared in her chest. But that emotion couldn't overpower the panic climbing up from her gut reminding her that she was in the middle of losing her job. No, not just her job, but her dream. What could she possibly do if not this? Unfortunately, it was just another little side investment to Truman. No big deal.

"Truman—"

"JoLynn!"

The clipped way he snapped her name sent her back a step. She was trying his patience. She shut her mouth and expelled a long breath through her nose.

Truman clasped his hands together on top of his heavily grained oak desk and leveled a steady stare on her. She bit her lower lip and felt behind her for the chair, then lowered herself onto it.

He drew in then expelled a burdened breath and leaned back. The creaking of the leather under Truman's substantial weight as he shifted in his chair struck her like fingernails on a chalkboard. "I'm not firing you. I know how hard you've worked. But what you've got is just a little local show. It's been three years and it hasn't completely caught on. And two sponsors have called just this week to say they couldn't sponsor you anymore."

A gasp escaped before she could stop it.

Two of her sponsors. Her sponsors? Finding and keeping them was part of the business. Sponsors came and went. But that any one of hers would withdraw their support... It felt personal. Hot tears surfaced and she tried to blink them back.

"Which two?"

"JoLynn, that's not the point. Taking this on was a risk for me since it's not the sort of thing I normally deal in. But I think it's a good show, with the potential to find a solid, loyal audience if we can just find an original spark to set fire to it."

"By hiring another host?"

"Not another host. A co-host."

She raised a hand to her forehead and tried to rub away the dull ache beginning there. "The Texas Backroads guy doesn't have a co-host." She realized how petulant the mumbled words sounded as soon as she said them. She looked down at her knees.