"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.
"The Texas Backroads guy has been around for twenty or so years, producing a very successful show that's broadcast all over this state, and parts of Louisiana, Oklahoma and New Mexico, too."
JoLynn felt her shoulders sag at what felt like another personal attack even though she knew it wasn't. Okay, so the Texas Backroads Show had been around a lot longer. And, true, what she was doing wasn't a totally original idea.
Maybe Truman was right. The thought made her wince inwardly. Maybe a co-host would add just the spark of originality she needed to make the show really take off. But would it still be her show? And if so, for how long? What if this co-host came in and ended up taking over? What if that was the whole idea?
Her spine stiffened as awareness dawned. That's exactly what was happening. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. Truman was testing the waters with this co-host. And her days were numbered.
A light knock on the door distracted her from the mounting paranoia.
"Shane Quinlan is here." The quiet sound of Truman's secretary's voice drifted over JoLynn's shoulder.
"Good!" Truman perked up as if his day just took a turn for the better. "Thank you, Bess. Send him in."
"Listen," JoLynn stood on quivering legs. "You have another appointment. It'd probably be best if I just come back tomorrow. We can discuss..." She turned around, ready to make a hasty retreat. But the vision that stood between her and the door made her forget her reason for being here.
Shane Quinlan.
His name was the only thing on earth she could wrap her mind around. She turned it over and over in her head, fighting the impulse to say it out loud just to see how it sounded in her own voice.
His tanned skin made his blue eyes seem clear as crystal. His brown hair was clipped short and he was clean shaven. A small, crisp white triangle of T-shirt showed through the open collar of his starched blue chambray shirt. His smile was wide and perfect, and he directed it toward her as if he knew her.
He recognized her. It didn't happen all that often. But occasionally, someone stopped her on the street, greeting her like they knew her, to tell her how much they enjoyed her program.
She straightened up and felt a smile slide across her face. His gaze was unwavering as he crossed the expansive office towards her.
"Shane Quinlan." He extended his hand and she reciprocated. His fingers closed around her hand, wrapping it in warmth that spread languidly through her.
"JoLynn Travis."
"I know. I've enjoyed your show." His voice was rich and his accent southern, maybe a little more refined sounding than she was accustomed to, but with just enough twang to match the disarmingly appealing glint in his eyes.
Her mouth went completely dry. Heat rushed to her face. Did he feel it, too? Could he sense the little electric charge that made her heart palpitate ever so slightly? She could almost swear he did.
"I have some ideas... I'd like to get together later and run them by you."
"Come on in and have a seat." Truman came around his huge desk, clapped a beefy hand on Shane's shoulder and led him to the chair next to hers.
"Ideas?" JoLynn heard the confusion in her voice.
Ideas?
Like the proverbial ton of bricks, the reality of the situation came plummeting down to crush her. Mr. Quinlan was her co-host. She stifled a gasp. Or should she say replacement? She probably should, considering how Truman had apparently already hired him. Without even consulting her. And now he was here, in the same room, ready to discuss his ideas, and she was less than unprepared—if there was such a thing. Could this day possibly get any worse?
Very slowly, she lowered herself onto the chair again and folded her hands in her lap, squeezing them so tightly her knuckles turned white. And still she could feel her blood pressure rising. She took one breath and pushed it out steadily, then two, three, four...
"I was thinking it might be interesting to do a new segment."
JoLynn's attention snapped back into focus at Shane's words. Good grief! He already had ideas for new segments. Of course he did. He'd probably had weeks to prepare for this meeting...months, perhaps.
"Maybe once a month or so—on somebody not from Texas."
"Not from Texas?" She didn't have the quaver in her voice quite under control yet. She took a breath and cleared her throat.
"There are lots of interesting people who aren't from Texas."
Despite his congenial, conversational tone, she bristled. "I have no doubt that there are. But this show is all about Texas. Hence the name Traveling Texas."
"These people would live in Texas. They just would have come from somewhere else. Like me. Naturalized Texans. Hey! We could even call it that—the Naturalized Texans segment." He shrugged. "I don't know. It's just a thought."
"Like you?" Never mind the rest. "Like you?"
Shane sat back in his chair and grinned proudly. No way of telling whether that pride came from having a decent idea, which she had to admit it was, or the fact that he wasn't from Texas.
"I like to call myself a Tennessee boy. But I've lived lots of places."
"Tennessee?"
"Yeah, you know. The state from which all those good ol' boys volunteered to come and back y'all up at the Alamo."
JoLynn felt the scowl cross her face before she could stop it. "Yeah, well, thanks for nothing."
Truman's hoot drowned out every other sound in the room. I knew it! I just knew y'all would be a good match. Look at the chemistry between you! The fire!"
Shane's grin widened. "Chemistry, huh? You mean like mixing oil and water?"
"More like bleach and ammonia." JoLynn grumbled, turning her attention back to Truman who was clearly so proud of himself that he might just burst. If only he would. And was that a snort she just heard coming from Mr. Quinlan's direction?
Truman stood and crossed the room to retrieve his white, felt cowboy hat from a rack on the wall. "Well, kids. I have another meeting across town. I'll have to catch up with you later."
JoLynn stood up. "But what about all those ideas of his that you were so eager to get started on."
"Oh, y'all can work all those details out. You can just sit right here and take all the time you need." He planted the hat on his head and checked his reflection in a mirror next to the hat rack. "You're the creative ones. I'm just the money man."
Truman winked, grinned, and then he was gone.
JoLynn stood staring; fighting the impulse to pinch herself to make sure this wasn't all just a bad dream. Maybe she hadn't been fired and lost her show, but it certainly appeared as if she'd lost creative control of it. But she could go with it. She could do what she needed to do to keep the thing afloat. Whatever it took to keep more sponsors from withdrawing their support, she'd do it. And if it was Truman's plan to replace her completely...well, she'd just have to give him a reason not to. She could do this...but not right now. Now, she needed to regroup, to think, to decide how to handle the curve just thrown at her.
She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
"Now, hold on a minute." Shane followed right behind her.
"Ah, Mr. Quinlan?" Bess caught his attention. It was just the break JoLynn needed to get away.
She strode purposefully through the outer office to the elevator, not even glancing back his way. The elevator doors opened as soon as she stepped up and pushed the call button. She stepped on and turned around to find Shane hustling down the long corridor towards her. She pushed the first floor button. She resisted the impulse to squeeze her eyes shut as she willed the elevator doors to close. But they just stood open as he got closer. Did they always take this long? He was only feet away now. JoLynn punched the floor button again, but Shane reached the threshold and caught the door just as it began to slide shut.
"Shouldn't we have a meeting or something?" He took a deep breath and let it out heavily. He wasn't breathless, but sprinting to catch her definitely put his cardiovascular system to work.
Good. Let him run to catch up for awhile. "I'm leaving for San Antonio tomorrow morning. To tour the Alamo. You can meet me at my office then if you like. Nine o'clock."
What was she doing?
Regret and embarrassment rose to heat her face. If only she had been prepared, had a heads up, this day could have gone so differently. This had not been one of her better moments. She had completely blown every part of this meeting.
She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to apologize for her hostility. But a look crossed his face as he dropped his arm to let the door slide closed; a smug grin that left her speechless and made her think this was exactly how he had wanted it to go.
As if he knew her days were numbered, and he looked forward to taking her place.