No Climb Too High (Firebird Ranch)

Chapter 1

last chance

ROXANNE

How did I let things get this bad?

Because I can’t find a decent therapist, that’s how.

Today is the day, though. Today I’m being let go.

I can feel it.

To be one of the top writers at World Explorer magazine, you need to be willing to travel, and since my accident, I barely leave my apartment without feeling like I have to hyperventilate into a paper bag.

I’m thirty-seven, single, and scared of my own shadow.

There’s something about waking up in a hospital with everyone saying you’re lucky to be alive that makes you question how lucky you really are.

As I walk through the whir and hum of a busy Monday at the office, I feel more eyes on me than usual. Between the forced smiles from some of my coworkers and the fact that the only compelling pieces I’m writing are local hotel reviews, a wave of anxiety starts to crawl out of the pit of my gut.

Hiding in my office seems like a good plan, and I can’t get there fast enough.

I toss my tote on the chair in the corner and turn away from my clear office door, unable to look at the vultures in their cubicles circling and waiting for me to take my last breath.

I stare out of my office window that overlooks the dense splendor of Central Park.

It may be the last time I get to relish this view.

“Hello, I’m trying to reach Roxanne Denning?” says a voice behind me.

I yelp and whip around, clutching my chest.

Leo throws up his hands. “Whoa, settle down, Rox. We tried to knock.”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” I say with a forced smile.

“Are you on edge because of Priti’s note on your desk?” Allie asks.

“I’m fine,” I say, my eyes spying the note I failed to notice when I first came in. The sticky note clinging to my desktop reads:

Need to see you when you get in,

Priti

Yep, definitely on edge. Pressing the sticky note to my chest, I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes.

Allie touches my shoulder. “What’s going on, Roxanne? You’re not your usual unusual self.”

“Nothing. Just—”

“You better get in to see Priti,” Leo says, sinking into the crushed green velvet chair across from my desk. “It’s urgent.”

“What has she told you?” I ask as I crumple the note up and toss it into my trash.

Allie shrugs, taking the other seat. “Nothing, yet. We were told to come here and wait until she is finished talking to you. She said you’d fill us in afterward.”

“She’s going to let me go,” I mutter.

Allie turns to me. “I’m sure it’s not that.”

Tugging on the sleeves of my crisp button-down, I square my shoulders. “Well, I’ve not written or produced anything worthwhile in a long time. Today is most likely the day I finally answer for that.”

“Maybe a new project that’s perfect for you.” Allie is desperately trying to stay positive which is why she’s one of my best friends.

“That’s it,” Leo says with a nod.

I reapply my lipstick. “I might as well get this over with so we can stop speculating.”

“You look divine,” Leo offers. “You got this.”

“Right?” Allie adds. “Completely unbothered.”

“This might be my last day at work, but I’ll be damned if anyone is going to see me cry.”

No. The tears will come later when I’m home. Me, a pint of butter pecan, and ugly crying into my anxiety pillow.

For now, I stroll toward the door with my head held high.

Leo reaches for my hand as I brush past him. “I love you, okay?”

My lips curve into a smile. “I know.”

Allie shouts, “I love you too!” As I push my door open.

Priti Singh is the editor-in-chief of World Explorer magazine and travel director of the media brand behind it. In 2014, she took a chance on a new travel writer who started with a small blog on a homemade website.

Me.

Together, with a handful of others including Leo McMann and Alison Whitlock, we helped the president of NeXus Broadcasting Group, Sullivan Rhodes, grow World Explorer into a media conglomerate that now owns its own river cruise company and produces television shows for Uncharted TV.

I’ve been lucky enough to snag a ride on this rising company, and I had been proud to help grow it into something special: A travel magazine for all travelers, not just the elite or privileged.

Priti’s office sits at the end of the hall and obviously has the best view of Central Park. I catch Priti flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder as she takes a seat behind her desk. I clear my throat before pressing my elbow into her office door.

“That’s my hope,” Priti says into her phone. She ends her call and then waves me in. “Yes! Roxanne. Please come in.”

I flash a thin smile and take a seat across from her.

“How is it with you?”

I exhale the breath I’ve been holding. “I’m doing well.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You wanted to see me?” I ask.

“Yes!” She folds her fingers together and stares a me for what feels like an hour. “I’m so proud of you, Roxanne, and I have a feeling I’m going to feel even more so after this is all over.”

My stomach twists. “Oh?”

She pushes up from her seat and begins to pace. “You remember our conversation with Sullivan Rhodes at the New York Philanthropy Summit last year?”

I think for a moment, recalling the evening at the Met. He smelled like day-old bourbon and cigars and insisted I call him Sully. “Yes, he mentioned some exciting new ideas he had for philanthropy that were ‘very outside the box,’ as he described them.”

“I love a billionaire who feels guilty about being so rich.”

“I’m not following.”

“Sullivan has decided to give a sizable portion of his money away—”

“So …” I lean forward. “Are you letting me go or not?”

Priti’s eyes grow wide, and then she throws her head back and laughs. “My darling. No, I’m not firing you. Not yet, anyway.”

My feeling of relief was immediately squelched. “Not yet?”

Priti pulls a San Pellegrino out from the fridge behind her desk. “Would you like one?”

My shoulders are still tense, but my mouth is dry so I accept. She pours me a glass and sticks a slice of lime in it. I take a sip. “Now that I no longer feel like jumping out the window, I’m happy you called me here to tell me how I can keep my job, not release me from it.”

Priti nods. “We need you, Roxanne, but … we need the old you.”

I open my mouth, but she puts her hand up, stopping my protest. “I understand why you have shut down, given everything that’s happened, but I can’t keep paying you to run features on local hotels.”

My eyes drop to my lap. “I realize that.”

“I’m giving you one last chance, and I know … Rox … I know you can do this and get back to being the woman who helped revolutionize this magazine.”

I finally meet her gaze again. “And what does my last chance involve?”

“Sullivan is launching a new series for Uncharted TV called Uncharted Impact. It’s a contest where people nominate outstanding businesses, communities, or organizations that are in desperate need of financial assistance.”

“Sounds really intriguing.” I start to take notes on the notepad I brought with me. “How are the winners determined?”

“World Explorer is to select teams to embed into these places for the summer. These teams will immerse themselves in the culture, with the people, and live as they live. During that time, the team will act as documentary film makers. Sullivan not only wants to hear why these places are worthy of the grand prizes, he wants to see it. He wants to feel like he’s there. ”

“I see.” I’m trying to keep my cool as a shiver of dread dances up the back of my spine.

Priti continues. “At the end of the summer, each team will return to NYC, and if they think their community is deserving, the head of the team will present a mini documentary and make a pitch to Sullivan. He has the final say, but many of us at Uncharted TV and World Explorer will vote. Top three winners receive five, ten, or fifteen million dollars.”

I raise my eyebrows. “This is amazing, truly, but I’m still not sure what this has to do with my second chance.”

I shift in my chair as she pulls a manilla envelope out of her desk drawer and pushes it toward me.

“No,” I protest.

“Oh, yes. I want you, Leo, and Allie to leave in a few days.”

I slowly shake my head. “Priti, there has to be another—”

“No, no, darling. This is it. You are going to face your fears and deliver the story of a lifetime. I can’t wait.” She pushes it further toward me. “Open it.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“You can, and I promise it’s going to be the best thing for you.”

My chest tightens.

“Open it.”

The sternness in her voice means I can stall no longer, and my fingers tremble as I rip open the envelope.

Whatever destination Priti has picked for me, it will be my first trip away from New York since last year.

As soon as I see where Priti wants to send me, a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, and the room starts to spin.

It’s worse than I could have ever imagined.

Priti is sending me home.