Chapter 1
Rhian Phillips spun her pen on the desk while she waited for her colleagues to filter into the room and take their places. Her boss, Rachel Webster, would be there exactly on time for the meeting. She always was. And as always, Rhian tried to be there five minutes before. Not that it had curried any favours with the intimidating woman, but, still, it hadn’t done her any harm either. Sometimes that was the best you could hope for in the cutthroat world that was marketing and advertising at Webster, Spencer, and Cline—London’s leading advertising company—and when the managing partner was not only your boss but your stepmum. Impressions had to be made to the rest of the staff. Not to Rachel.
“Hey, Rhi. So what’s this all about?” Joe Gert asked as the conference table and the twelve chairs around it slowly started to fill up. He was one of the senior account managers and had been her mentor when she’d first started.
Rhian shrugged. “No idea. I got the call to come up same as you and everyone else, Joe.”
“No insider scoop?”
Rhian snorted a quick laugh. “’Fraid not.” If anything, Rhian was always the last in the know. Rachel didn’t divulge anything so she couldn’t be accused of giving her privileged information. Yet the rest of the staff shied away from her because they all suspected she knew more than they did or was reporting back to Rachel all the time. It was…irksome. Tiring. Maybe it’s time to spread my wings and move on, she thought—not for the first time either. Trying to live up to Rachel’s expectations and standards was just as exhausting as trying to ignore the stigma of non-existent nepotism from her workmates.
“We’ve got good news and bad news, people.” Rachel straight-armed the door open and let it swing shut behind her with a loud bang. She blustered through the room to the head of the table and dropped a heavy stack of files onto the veneer-covered surface. “Where do you want me to start?”
She cast a slightly menacing look around the room. Her brown eyes looked so fierce that Rhian had always been just a little scared of her as she’d grown up—first spending weekends, school holidays, and special occasions with her dad and this woman, and then living with them permanently after her mum had died. Still, she wasn’t all bad. Rachel had been there for her when her dad hadn’t.
Rhian shook her head and snapped herself away from the hurt. Not going there again.
“Start us off with the bad news, Rach,” Joe said.
“Right-o. Joe’s going to be a daddy.”
“I said the bad news.” There was a grin on Joe’s lips.
“I know,” Rachel shot back and her expression dared him to dispute her. He sat quietly, his grin broadening. “It means the rest of us are going to have to work harder to make up for you being brain-dead from sleep deprivation and hormones.”
“I thought it was women who got hormones when they were pregnant?” Dave Roper sat at the far end of the table.
Rhian snorted, tucked her hair behind her ears, and started doodling on her pad. Her interest in the workplace banter had long since fizzled away to nothing. But she dutifully kept sneaking glances around the room, waiting for Rachel to get to the point.
Rachel pointed to Joe’s face and the sloppy grin there. He looked a little stupid and a lot happy. “Do I really need to say any more?” She waited for the titters around the table to subside. “Seriously, Joe, congrats. I know this is something you and Stacey have been trying at for a long time. I’m really happy for you.” She patted his hand. “You stupid idiot.”
Joe laughed loudly. “Thanks, boss.”
She dipped her head and cleared at him and cleared her throat. “So, on to the good news. Patagonia.” She met everyone’s gaze around the table. “Who can tell me about Patagonia?”
The silence around the room was deafening.
“No one? Really?” Rachel asked incredulously. “Rhian?”
Rhian looked up, eyebrows raised in question. “Huh?”
“Are we distracting you?”
Rhian’s cheeks burned. “Sorry, I was just making some notes about something I have to do after the meeting.” She cleared her throat and hoped Rachel couldn’t see the crappy sketches of climbing knots all over the paper in front of her. “What did you ask me?”
The look on Rachel’s face said she knew Rhian was lying. “Patagonia.”
“What about it?”
“Seems no one here knows anything about it. Do you?”
“It’s the region of South America that bridges Chile and Argentina down the length of the Andes mountains to the southern tip,” Rhian said. “It’s the southernmost point of the world outside of Antarctica. It’s made up of glaciers, mountains, volcanoes, forest wilderness, marshes, lakes, desert, and steppes. It’s vast, it’s wild, and it’s desolate. The weather’s extreme, and the winds ferocious. And the glacier is one of the very few left on earth that is still expanding.”
“Thank you. What about the company?”
Rhian frowned again, as did everyone else at the table. “You mean the clothing company?”
Rachel nodded.
“They make some awesome outdoor equipment. I’ve got one of their down jackets. Brilliant. Why?”
Rachel slid files across the desk surface to everyone. “Patagonia, the company, has hired us to run a new marketing campaign. They want to grow their appeal to women. As we all know, when it comes to clothes, women spend more and more often than men do. Also, women are becoming increasingly active in extreme sports and the outdoors. This expansion makes a lot of sense. So they’re sponsoring a reality TV show that will be based in Patagonia, the country, and will feature their gear. The Argentinian tourist board is putting up the other half of the funds needed as a way to promote tourism in Patagonia.”
“Is this an existing TV show that they’re starting to sponsor?” Claire Sheffield, Dave Roper’s assistant, asked.
“It’s brand new, people.” Murmurs went around the table. Rachel ignored them and pointed to the files. “Page one,” she said, flipping open her own file and holding up the A4 page with the title The Amazing Climb.
Rhian cocked her head to the side, opened the folder, and quickly scanned the first few pages as Rachel carried on talking. Her excitement and curiosity grew with each detail. Oh my God. This is…brilliant.
“The show will feature climbers from all over the world competing for a fantastic prize—”
“Which is?” Dave asked.
“Yet to be disclosed,” Rachel said. “And it will feature climbs and challenges in Patagonia—”
“Where and how many?” Claire asked.
“Yet to be disclosed,” Rachel said again.
“There are too many unknowns, Rach. I say it’s too risky for them,” Joe said.
“Riskier than you know, Joe. There are still lots of details to work out—which we will—and lots of things to be sorted—which we’ll take care of. But what you all need to know now is that we’ve been hired to produce this TV show.”
Rhian grinned. A climbing TV show in Patagonia. Heaven.
“Are you insane?” Claire, Joe, and Dave demanded at the same time.
“We’re a marketing firm,” Claire continued, “not a production company.”
“Yeah, we don’t do this kind of thing, Rachel,” Joe said. “We’re not geared up for it.”
“That’s not entirely true, Joe,” Rhian said. Rachel glanced at her but didn’t interrupt. Rhian wasn’t sure what that meant, but she’d had a point, so she was going to make it. “We do commercials and infomercials all the time. The idea of producing or creating in the medium isn’t a foreign notion for us.”
Rachel’s lips slid into a satisfied smirk as she offered Rhian a nod of approval. Rhian squared her shoulders and straightened her back.
Joe scoffed. “That’s not even in the same league as this kind of shit. You’re talking months of prep, months of filming—on location. You’re talking… Shit, I don’t even know half of what you’re talking about to pull off a project like this.”
“Sure you do. We break it down into chunks like we do with every big project we take on. We all have our strengths, Joe.” Rhian looked at him steadily, assessing his real concern about the project. It didn’t take much to figure it out. He was about to become a father. He didn’t want to take on a huge project that might take him away from home.
One less for me to compete with, then.
The thought struck her out of the blue. Compete with? She didn’t compete with these people. She just did her job and kept her head down. Why was she even thinking about competing with them to take this on?
“Yeah, we do have our strengths,” Joe retorted. “In marketing and advertising, not TV production. Not in making films. Not in distributing them to the masses.”
“We don’t need to worry about that,” Rachel said. “Patagonia has signed a deal with Amazon for the worldwide distribution of the show.”
Dave whistled. “Nice.”
“Exactly. This is going to be big, ladies and gentlemen. Massive. It’s an opportunity for us to take the company in a new direction. To try something new, something exciting, something that will put Webster, Spencer, and Cline on the map in a whole new market. Media markets are changing at lightning pace out there, people. This is our chance to stake a claim in it.”
The energy was rolling off Rachel in waves, and for the first time she could remember, it didn’t make Rhian want to jump out of the way. She was being swept along with it. She was thinking about her colleagues as competition because she wanted this project. She wanted it to be hers. She wanted Patagonia, and she wanted the chance to show them she could do something they were all afraid to try.
“What’s the format of the TV show?” Rhian asked.
“Sixteen contestants. Amateur climbers from all different backgrounds. International pool, not just UK climbers.” Rachel’s gaze locked on Rhian as though no one else in the room.
“Recruitment method?”
Rachel hitched her eyebrow. “Social media would probably be the best place to start.”
Rhian scribbled some notes across her pad, the first time in a long while she’d used her pen in a meeting for something other than spinning it or doodling. “Timescale?”
“It’s March now. Filming starts in a little over six months, and we have to get this together by then.”
“Six?” Joe cried. “You’ve got to be joking. We’d need at least a year to do this. If we even could.”
“We’ve got six months,” Rachel said again. Her tone made it perfectly clear that there would be no negotiation on this. It was a done deal. Rachel had decided, and the steely look in her eyes told them all she would damn well pull it off by herself if they didn’t get on-board with it. Rhian had no doubt she could. She couldn’t remember a single thing Rachel had failed at once she put her mind to it. But this time, she wouldn’t have to. This time, Rhian was going to pull it off. What was it she used to say when I was little? ‘Shoot for the moon, kid. Even if you miss, you’ll land amongst the stars.’
“We can’t do this, Rachel,” Claire said from the other end of the table.
Rachel frowned and opened her mouth to speak—
“Yes, we can,” Rhian said. “We can do this if we work together as a team.” She pointed to the packets in front of them. “If we all take on different aspects of the project, there is nothing in it that we haven’t done before. On a smaller scale, granted. But we have done it all before.”
A crowd of scowling faces stared back at her. No doubt they were wondering just who the fuck she thought she was, talking to them like this. Trying to convince them. That was Rachel’s job. Rachel, who was currently sitting back in her chair, hands clasped behind her head, and watching Rhian like the cat that had got the cream. And the tuna. And the catnip. What the hell’s going on with her? Rhian shook her head to focus on the group, rather than Rachel. She didn’t have time to worry about that. She didn’t have time to worry about anything if they were going to pull this together.
“Joe,” she said, “you’ve had the most contact with crews doing infomercials and the like. I’ll need you to pull together the film crew. We need people who are capable of climbing the mountains with our contestants and guides too. They’ll be filming on ropes, across the glaciers, and camping side by side with everyone else.”
“Do not land us with any divas, or I swear to God the baby won’t be the only thing keeping you awake in six months’ time,” Rachel added as Joe stared at Rhian, his mouth hanging open. She held his gaze, but she could see Rachel grinning out of the corner of her eye. “Okay?” she asked with just a flicker of a glance to check in with Rachel. Was she really okay with her taking charge like this?
Joe also glanced at Rachel, obviously waiting for her to react. She didn’t.
“Joe?” Rhian asked again, her voice a little softer. She licked her lips. She needed the team to agree, and Joe was the most senior team member in the room. If he went along with this, if he agreed with her, they all would. She knew it.
Joe sighed and scribbled some notes. “Got it.”
The thrill of victory skittered down her spine. She felt like whooping and dancing in her chair, but restrained herself. That kind of behaviour wouldn’t help her cause any, no matter how much her inner self was running laps around the room and singing “The Eye of The Tiger”.
“Thank you,” she said in the most professional voice she could muster before turning to Dave. “Your expertise on branding, product placement, and selection will be invaluable.”
Dave smiled and nodded. “I can do that.”
“Every one of our contestants will need to be kitted out in Patagonia products. Their sales department should be able to tell which are the best ones for the task ahead and to start putting it all together.”
“Do they only produce clothes?”
“No,” Rhian said. “They do some awesome packs and sleeping bags too.”
Dave nodded.
“We’ll need to showcase every product we possibly can,” Rachel added.
“Of course,” Dave said as though it went without saying. To his credit, Rhian agreed. He’d done this stuff long enough.
Claire and most of the others around the table were scribbling notes on their pads as fast as they could.
“Well, Rhian, since you seem to be taking charge of this project, you’ll need to get started on the recruitment drive and find the right guide, as she’ll have to host it too. But most importantly, find me the right contestants.”
“Me? You don’t want to do that part?” Rhian was shocked. Contestants. Guides. The host! This show, and therefore their entire campaign, was going to live and die based on the people on camera. It didn’t matter how beautiful the landscape was going to be or how good the products were if no one watched because the show turned out to be boring. “You want me to take on such a critical role? Why?”
The bigger question was why was she balking? She wanted this project, yet her natural inclination to fall into Rachel’s shadow was once again asserting itself. That and the fact she’d never taken on such a major, project-defining role as this one. Nerves were a bitch.
“Because no one else here’s even climbed a ladder much less a wall or a rock face,” Rachel said.
“Hey!” Dave groused. “I climbed a ladder to go into the loft the other day.”
“You told me you fell off coming back down and nearly ended up at the bottom of the stairs,” Rachel said.
Dave grinned sheepishly. “You don’t forget anything, do you?”
“Never.” Rachel wagged a finger at him before turning her attention back to Rhian. “So, Rhian, that makes you our resident climbing expert. You’ve been climbing rock faces and indoor walls as long as I’ve known you. I’ve listened to you talk about climbing until chalk dust was coming out of my ears, and I know you go off and join climbing tours every time you go on holiday. Wasn’t it Alaska you just got back from?”
Rhian nodded. Just a couple of weeks ago, as a matter of fact.
“And Spain the time before that?”
She nodded again, slightly taken aback that Rachel remembered so many details. She always seemed so disinterested when Rhian was talking to her about it.
“Well, since you’re the only one of us that knows the difference between a grade 5 and a grade 6 ice wall, that makes you the right person for this task.” Rachel’s eyes softened a little as she looked at her, and Rhian saw what she needed. Belief. Rachel believed she could do it.
“Shoot for the moon,” she whispered under her breath. Rhian cleared her throat and met Rachel’s gaze. “Okay.”
Rachel’s smile spread across her lips slowly. “Good.” She waved her hand, palm up, for Rhian to continue.
Rhian swallowed. “Dave, we’ll need to liaise about climbing and safety equipment—”
“Surely that’s the health-and-safety guy’s responsibility!” Dave protested.
Rhian lifted the packet Rachel had given them. She’d only scanned most of the contents, but she’d picked up more of the salient details than the rest of the team while they’d been arguing with Rachel. “The guide—who I’ll recruit—will be in charge of health and safety on and off set,” Rhian said, her cheeks burning. She was so unaccustomed to being the centre of attention, it made her uncomfortable. It was something she had to get over. “I’ll be working with them directly. I’ll have to, and so I’ll have the requirements for you before long. I can probably work up a rudimentary list for you right now, to be honest, but there’s enough to be going on with before we start on the shopping.”
Dave scribbled on his pad with a nod.
“Thanks.” She turned to look further down the table. “Mellissa, logistics? We’ll need travel schedules for each of our applicants and then the contestants, film crew, and all equipment, vehicles in Patagonia, etc. You know the drill.”
“I do,” Mellissa said in a clipped, efficient voice. She’d been with the company since almost the beginning, working first as Rachel’s assistant and then as Rhian’s upon returning from maternity leave a few years back. Organisation and logistics were definitely her specialities.
“Martin, web design. Can you liaise with Dave about the rebranding?” She pointed to the file. “It looks like we’ll need to give Patagonia’s website a complete overhaul. The online shop they’ve got at the moment is looking a little dated and heavy. Pics need streamlining. The usual.”
“No problem.”
“It would also be a good idea for you to liaise with Rhian about the promotion and recruitment drive,” Rachel said. “Social media will be a great way to get the message out for applications. Can you help her set that up?”
“With pleasure,” Martin said.
Rhian ran through the rest of the file. Rachel had already broken the project down into the relevant tasks to get started with. All she had to do at this point was dole them out and make sure everyone was happy and ready to walk out of the room and start running with the project. They didn’t have any time to waste.
“Okay, people, let’s get this ball rolling,” Rachel said when Rhian reached the end. “I want progress reports on my desk…and Rhian’s…by Friday lunchtime.” Everyone got up, shuffling their papers and scratching their heads. “Rhian, you got a minute?”
Rhian nodded and hung back in her seat while the rest of the team almost ran out the door.
“You okay?” Rachel asked.
Rhian smiled. “Yeah. Thank you for the opportunity—”
Rachel waved her hand. “Don’t. You earned it. If you’d worked anywhere else, you’d have had the chance a long time ago. You know that, I know that, and now none of those idiots can dispute that. So don’t thank me for holding you back.” She smiled fondly at her. “In all honesty, I’ve been waiting for years for you to show me what you did in that meeting. That you want to be here. I needed to see that fire in your eyes, that excitement, and the desire to win. I’ve been waiting to see that you wanted more than just clocking in and clocking off, kiddo.” She sighed. “I was about ready to give up on you.”
The euphoric thrill of the meeting vanished, replaced by a feeling she was much more familiar with—that she never quite measured up, that she wasn’t good enough, that she was unworthy.
“I almost thought you were ready to up sticks and take off for pastures new.”
Rhian blinked but met her gaze. “I almost was.”
Rachel’s mouth twisted into a knowing half-smile. “Well, you were always brutally honest.”
“I wonder where I learnt that skill.”
“Touché,” Rachel conceded. “I’m glad you didn’t. When they first approached me about this project, I knew it was perfect for us. For you. I wanted this for a lot of reasons, but mostly, I wanted it because I knew you’d love it.”
“A gift? Not like you, Rach.”
Rachel lifted an eyebrow. “Am I such a wicked stepmother?”
Rhian chuckled. “Only when you wanted to be.”
“My, my, you have put on those training claws, haven’t you?”
“Sorry—”
“Don’t apologise.” Rachel’s fond gaze hardened. “You’ll need to grow more than training claws for this project, kiddo. If you apologise for the slightest thing, you’ll never get through it. So, on that note—” She opened the folder in front of her and pulled out a piece of paper before sliding it across the desk to Rhian. “This is a list of tour companies and guides in the area that Patagonia would be willing-slash-happy to work with.”
Rhian took the page and looked it over, giving herself a moment to adjust to Rachel’s typically whiplash-inducing change of pace. Very few names were on it. “Only three? Is this it?”
Rachel nodded.
“Why so few? What’s the politics here?”
“Nothing political. Gender. These are the only women with good reputations who lead groups of climbers close by. They know the area and get people up and back safely. On an expedition like this, that’s important. We need to minimise the risks where we can.”
“I know. The inherent risks are great enough as it is.”
“Exactly.”
Rhian looked at the names again. “They’re really serious about appealing to the female market?”
“As a heart attack.”
Rhian let the corner of her lips slip into a small half-smile. “Looking at them and their stats online is all well and good, Rach. But I think I’m going to need to go and meet them before I commit to anyone.”
Rachel smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She slid an envelope across the table to her. “You leave tomorrow afternoon. Returning in a week’s time. That should be enough time to meet with these three and make a decision. I’ll feed Rufus for you while you’re gone.” She grimaced even as she offered to feed Rhian’s podgy, ginger tomcat.
“What would you have done if I hadn’t agreed to this crazy scheme of yours?”
“I’d have thought of something.” Her eyes seemed deadly serious. “You fought for this. Are you telling me now that you don’t really want it?”
Rhian looked at the page in her hand and the envelope sitting where it had stopped on the wood. Patagonia—the place she’d longed to visit for years. The climbing, the adventure, the outdoors…and all while getting paid. Nah. This job was made for her. “I want it.”
“Good. Now, on that note, we’ve both got a lot of work to do. What’re you doing for dinner tonight?”
Rhian ran a hand over her face, then her fingers through her hair. “Probably a burger on my way home to pack.”
“Pft. Come to the house. I’ve got a lasagne defrosting for tonight.”
“Erm, no thanks.”
Rachel scowled at her. “He misses you, you know.”
Rhian clenched her teeth. “He made the choice, Rach. You know he did. He can’t pick and choose the parts of my life he has a hand in. If he can’t accept me as I am, then he doesn’t accept me at all. He threw me out of the house and told me not to come back until I wasn’t a perverted freak anymore.” She covered her hand over her mouth and held her breath a moment before she said, “I’m still a perverted freak, Rach. I’m still gay, and I’m still me, so why should I go back there?”
“Because he loves you, and he’s sorry.” Rachel’s eyes were soft, brimming with tears.
“Then he needs to tell me that, don’t you think?”
“How can he if you won’t even talk to him? If you won’t even let him show you he’s trying?”
“Is he? Is he trying? Because I haven’t seen or heard anything from him since.”
“He’s tried to call. At least half a dozen times.”
“In five years. That doesn’t even make every birthday and Christmas, Rachel.”
“I know. But you haven’t even picked up the phone whenever he’s tried. And he’s too proud to do any more, Rhi.”
“Then he doesn’t love me enough.” Rhian slid the page through her fingers from one end to the other, then back again. Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry about it anymore. It was done. Her father had made his choice, and now they all had to live with it.
He couldn’t accept that she was a lesbian, and no amount of badgering by Rachel was going to convince her that he’d changed his mind about that. Not after the things he said that night. Not after what he did. He was probably only making the token effort to keep Rachel off his back. He always called her a nagging harpy when she got on a roll. Well, that wasn’t the kind of apology that would make up for what he did.
She had her pride too, and she refused to be someone she wasn’t to keep him happy. It wasn’t a sacrifice he’d made for her when he’d fallen in love with Rachel despite being married and having a family. He’d done what he wanted, been the man he was, and sod ’em all. Well, she was his daughter. So sod him.
“Every time you rebuff him it… Well, it’s like another piece of him dies.”
“And you think it doesn’t kill me too? You think it doesn’t rip my heart out a little more every time, knowing that my own father can’t stand me? That he hates me because of something I can’t change, that I can’t do anything about?” She shook her head. “He made his choice and his feelings perfectly clear when he hit me and threw me out of the house.” She lifted her hand towards her face but let it drop before she could touch the cheek her father had slapped. In the dead of night sometimes, she could still feel the way her flesh had burned under that blow. “I love him. Despite knowing that he hates everything about me, I still love him. But I can’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth anymore.”
Rachel’s hand closed over her own, stilling her fingers. “It’s okay, honey.”
“I’m sorry if it’s causing you problems with him.”
Rachel barked out a harsh laugh as she wiped at her eyes. “Rhi, I’m big enough and ugly enough to take care of myself. And I’m more than capable of handling your twat of a father. Excuse the language.”
Rhian sniggered. “Don’t worry. I’ve heard the term before.”
“I’m sure.” She chuckled along with her. “I’m sorry.”
Rhian shrugged. “Not your fault. He—”
“No, I’m sorry for how I froze that night. I’ve wanted to say that ever since you came out to us and all I could do was sit there and stare while your father turned into a man I didn’t even recognise.” She ran her fingers through her dark hair, now shot through liberally with silver, letting the strands ripple down her shoulders.
“It was more than five years ago,” Rhian said quietly.
Rachel leant back in the chair next to Rhian and ran a hand down her back as she hunched over the desk. “Long overdue, then.” She continued to rub Rhian’s back in small, soft circles.
Rhian couldn’t look at her. She knew there’d be tears in her eyes, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back her own if she saw Rachel all emotional too.
“I’m so proud of you.” Her hand disappeared from Rhian’s back as she stood, then she felt the pressure of Rachel’s kiss on the top of her head. Rachel’s hands curled over her shoulders and squeezed tight. “I know this is a huge project, kiddo. And I know I haven’t always been the best when it comes to giving you the chances you should have had in this place. But this is it, Rhian. This is your chance to shine, and to show not just me but the rest of the bastards in this place exactly what I know you can do. Because you can. I’m sure of it.”
Rhian put her hand over Rachel’s and pulled until she was hugging her from behind.
“There’s so much riding on this, I can’t… Doesn’t matter. I know you’ll do your best and you’ll make it work.”
“Thanks.” When Rachel squeezed her shoulders tighter, Rhian hung her head and drew in a shuddering breath. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Rachel nudged her and pulled her arms back.
“Okay, enough of the mushy stuff. Get back to work.”
Rhian chuckled. “Yes, boss.”
“Make me proud, kiddo,” Rachel murmured.
Rhian looked up, tears spilling onto her cheeks.
Rachel sniffed loudly and blustered out of the room again, muttering bloody kid under her breath. Rhian wiped her face on her sleeve and determinedly pushed away the emotions threatening to engulf her. Rachel had faith in her. Rachel. Her Rachel thought she could pull off a project. And not just any old project. Just the biggest, most amazing project the company had ever landed.
“Fucking hell,” she whispered, popped open the envelope, and peeked in at the tickets and travel itinerary. She wriggled around in her seat.
“I’m going to Patagonia!”