Chapter 5
Cami
For the first few days, I’m mesmerized by the beauty of the American countryside as Kane drives us from state to state in search of stormy weather. But once you’ve seen one field of leafy, green tobacco plants, you’ve seen them all.
I’m so bored that I’m tempted to count the cows in the fields we pass. So far, there hasn’t been a major storm system to film. We’ve captured a popup rain shower or two, but nothing severe.
By the end of the fourth day, I’m tired of listening to True Crime podcasts, so I cave into Kane’s suggestion that we talk. It’s a dangerous activity, especially since my stomach flips every time he holds open the door of the truck for me.
He’s notorious for having issues with commitment and breaking hearts…
No matter how many times I remind myself of that fact, the more time I spend with him, the more I like him.
We’ve crossed over from Illinois to Kentucky when Kane announces that he’s hungry. He buzzes the rest of the caravan on the radio and tells them that we’re ready to stop for dinner. After a few minutes of chatter, it’s decided that the entire caravan will stop at a diner in Lexington, Kentucky. It supposedly has the best chilidogs and hamburgers.
As we drive past horse farms, with their rolling hills and lush, green grass, I gasp. “Kentucky is gorgeous.”
“Heaven is a Kentucky kind of place,” Kane says, smiling at me in the mirror. “Daniel Boone said that.”
“I think he was right,” I breathe, taking it all in. “These horse stables look nicer than my house!”
He laughs. “Nicer than mine too.”
When we arrive at the designated spot, I try to grab a seat at the table with the other camera operators. But Kane calls out my name and gestures for me to sit with him at a two-top near the window.
How can I resist?
“Best seat in the house,” he says as I sit across from him.
“Shouldn’t we eat with everyone else?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I’m too aggravated to be part of a big crowd tonight.”
“Aggravated about what?”
He stares at me in disbelief. “About being skunked! We’re a third of the way through shooting and we still haven’t seen a single storm.” He runs a hand through his thick, wavy hair. “This is the problem with trying to do a TV show. The schedule is too inflexible. We were forced to put together a crew and just hit the road in hope of finding something. But I can’t just conjure severe weather from the clear blue sky!”
“No one expects you to,” I say soothingly.
He raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t the whole point of the show to film storms?”
“Well,” I say, tilting my head in thought, “Not really. The show is about chasing storms. I think viewers would be just as happy to see you grow frustrated with the lack of weather as they would if you captured the storm of the century on camera. It’s reality TV, after all. People love to watch others fail.”
He frowns. “That’s not my style.”
One of the forecasters approaches us with a laptop in tow. “Mr. Charming, I’d like you to see this. There’s a storm brewing just west of us.”
Kane inspects the radar and breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s the line of storms we’ve been waiting for,” he says. “We’ll need to get an early start tomorrow… it looks like eastern Kentucky is where we need to be.”
He makes arrangements with other crew members before turning back to me. When they leave and his eyes meet mine again, I nearly drop my fork. His face looks like Christmas morning—just as I’d known it would.
“I hope you’re ready to see some real weather tomorrow!” His good mood is infectious, and I can’t help but grin back at him.
Damn, I hate being right all the time.