“Because I wanted to. Because seeing you on my screen is the best part of my day. Because ever since I met you, you’ve been in my head, and watching your show made me feel like I was …” I blow out a breath, embarrassed by this next part. “Like I was home, even when I was thousands of miles away.”
“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever told me,” she says. “Seven years—that’s a long time.”
“I can’t wait to see what you do in the next seven. World domination is next, I think.” My phone lights up, a message from Johnathan coming in and letting me know we’ll be on-air in two minutes. “You ready?”
“I guess so. You’ll be here with me?”
“The entire time.” I cup her face, drawing my thumb along her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“There’s the golden weather boy.” Quincy’s smile is faint before it stretches to a grin. “Let’s rumble, Dunn.”
I keep my pinkie hooked in hers and turn toward the laptop set up on a stool. I put in my earpiece, and there’s a few seconds of waiting. The lag between the video and the call catches up, talking beginning in my ear.
“Good morning. I’m down in Orlando, Florida, where residents are preparing for Hurricane Georgianna, that is scheduled to make landfall in about sixteen hours. I’m joined by Dr. Quincy Monroe, who runs the nationally acclaimed The Rainy Day Show, which is where you might recognize her from.” I laugh. “Or in Jim Cantore’s most popular social media video.”
“That was fun,” Quincy adds.
“We have some important updates about Georgianna we want to share with everyone who might be tuning in, and I’m going to turn it over to Quincy to share more.”
“Thanks, Sebastian. Hi, folks. I’m Quincy. I’m born and raised in Oak Valley, a town right outside Orlando. My life is dedicated to meteorology, and while I wish it were under better circumstances, I’m glad I’m here with you today.”
“What can you tell us about what’s going on with Hurricane Georgianna?”
“Part of our job is to track weather based on the information the National Hurricane Center—who we call the NHC—provides. The five a.m. advisory came out recently, and based on the storm’s movement, we’re expecting landfall to be well south of the original location. Additionally, Georgianna has increased its wind speed since last night. It’s now a Category 4 storm, and we expect it to reach Category 5 strength prior to landfall. While the southwest region of Florida was always in the cone of uncertainty, the habit is to rely on the centerline of the cone, which isn’t an indication of where landfall can be.”
“What should people expect, Quincy?” I lob her way, not surprised by her even-keeled tone. “A lot of our viewers haven’t been in the heart of a Category 5 hurricane before. Heck, even I haven’t.”
“I haven’t either. If you are anywhere near the Punta Gorda area, especially in low-lying areas or mobile homes, you need to evacuate. Immediately. We can expect tornadoes and high winds. Several inches of rain and storm surge upwards of twenty feet. It’s hard to believe, but the area will look completely different in twenty-four hours,” she says.
“I have some folks helping us behind the scenes, and I think we’re going to be able to … yup. Thanks, Larry. He’s our audio-visual guy. We’re showing you the future track that WCPT, ABC’s affiliate station in Orlando, has put together. It does deviate from the NHC’s track, and the meteorologists we’ve talked to in Tampa and Miami are all in agreement with this predicted forecast,” I tell the camera.
“If you’re on the road, you need to shelter in place by sunset. Squalls are already approaching the state, and getting to where you should be while it’s still safe is the highest priority. Until the storm passes and the local officials give you the okay to be outside, stay where you are.”
“All great points, Quincy.” I glance her way. “She’s not going to plug her show, but I will. Her social media channels offer valuable information that might be beneficial to our viewers, particularly those of you who are new to Florida. There are videos on what to put in your hurricane kit, the safest places to store important documents, and what to do if you lose power. Her handle is @TheRainyDay Show across all platforms—it’s also right here on my hat—and I know you’ll find something useful in her resource library. If I had to pick one person to listen to right now, it would be her.”
“Thank you.” Quincy dips her chin to hide her blush. “The most important thing is to let everyone who is watching know they’re not alone. This is scary. There’s a lot going on, but we’re going to get through this.”
“I’m going to send it back to the studio, and we’re going to get a list posted with open shelters and official evacuations. My phone is telling me Charlotte County emergency officials are holding a press conference in twenty minutes. If you’re in the area, I urge you to tune in.”
I get the all clear that our call has ended, and I close my laptop. I pull out my earpiece and set it on my computer. “You did great, Monroe.”
“It wasn’t as intimidating as I thought, but I’m afraid to look at my social media.” She puts her microphone next to mine. “Now what?”
“Where are you going to ride out the storm? I know everyone is going to Mia’s place, but maybe we could hang out at your house? I’m sure you have all the essentials, and we can get some good footage.”
Quincy frowns. “I said I was going to chase the storm. That’s what I’m going to do.”
“You said that when it was a Category 2, not a Category 5monster. You’re not seriously considering driving straight into the system we just warned people to stay away from, are you?”
“Of course I am!” Her voice pitches higher. Her hands clench into fists at her side. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because people are going todie, Quincy. Towns are going to be wiped out. Homes? Gone. Roads? Not drivable. If you get stuck, rescue teams won’t be able to get to you for days. And you want to go into thatwillingly?” I almost shout, matching her tone.
“I need to prove myself to the National Weather Service. To the people who don’t believe in me. To everyone,” she yells back, anger flashing in her eyes. “Why do you think I’ve spent all summer chasing storms when I normally do all my work from my office? Why do you think I work myself to the point of exhaustion? Because I’m sick and tired of being treated fuckingless thanbecause I’m a woman. I’m sick and tired of working harder than everyone else and not getting as far. I applied to the NWS to tell myself I could do it, despite so many people telling me I can’t. Despite people at theinterviewtelling me I can’t. And now? Now I have a chance to prove that I’mworthy. That I deserve that spot more than anyone else, and you can’t stand in my way.”
“Worthy?” I almost roar, stalking toward her. When I get close enough to touch her, I grab her by the waist. I pull her flush against my chest, ignoring theoofshe lets out when our bodies collide. “You don’t think you’re fuckingworthy?”
“I’m not sure that I am.” The admission comes out like a sob, a raw, splintered sound that makes her chest heave. “I try to put on the face of a badass bitch, but now that this is being handed to me, I can’t turn it down. If I die, I die, and at least I went outtrying, because I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t go out there andshow everyone I know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m chasing this storm, Sebastian. And you can’t stop me.”
