Which kind of relied on him knowing what he wanted to do. And he had no idea.
He just knew what he was doing now definitely wasn’t it.
His hand slipped on a misplaced transfer and he slammed hard against the wall, braced only on one foot peg, two fingers taking his entire weight.
Now wasn’t it. The network wasn’t it. EROS wasn’t it.
The enormous gulf those missing classes had left started to make some sense. He’d enjoyed those. A lot. Recording the experiences, capturing people’s stories. He’d exercised creative muscles that he’d let wither over the past corporate decade. He’d plucked remembered strands from something he’d been passionate about before the network. Before Lara.
His roots.
And audio production was a thousand miles from what he was doing now. What he’d grown rich and famous on.
What he’d grown empty on.
He tried not to imagine his big empty house, because every time he did the same thing happened. He saw it full of life, and colour.
And Georgia.
She’d planted the seeds of herself as surely in his imagination as she did plants in her garden. And she’d grown there, like some kind of invasive creeper vine. Tangling. Binding.
Bonding.
Until he could barely separate the reality of what he was left with from the fantasy of his imagination.
‘Bloody hell.’
A grunt to his left drew him out of his self-obsessed focus. How long had he been hanging here, not moving? Roger knew him too well to think he was in difficulty, but while he was off absorbed in fanciful thoughts another climber had managed to get fully rigged and halfway up the wall. Albeit the easier configuration.
He turned to look at the new guy and nearly lost his finger hold again.
Bradford.
No question. He’d been in enough newspaper articles and on enough gossip sites to be recognisable anywhere. Even sweaty and bulging on a rockface. However simulated.
An insane rage overcame him.
This man had rejected Georgia. She gifted him her unique heart—she risked and exposed herself—and this guy thought himself too good for her. He hadn’t fought for her when she ended it and he’d wasted no time in picking up with someone new once he was free to.
Bradford glanced at him, frowning, and then very purposefully climbed ahead.
Every hormone in Zander’s body urged him to speak. To demand Bradford justify himself. Explain in what universe hurting the most gentle, courageous woman on the planet was acceptable. Except then he remembered that he’d done effectively the same thing and much more recently.
Rejected her.
Returned the gift of her love. Unopened.
Let her go without a fight.
And he realised that Bradford was no more suited to for ever with a woman like Georgia than he was. And no more worthy.
He signalled Roger, below, leaned back, and zipped to the floor. He fumbled his way out of the climbing gear in his haste and left it where it lay.
And he got the hell out of there before he asked Bradford the only thing he really wanted to know.
How did you get over her?
* * *
A year.
An entire year had gone past since she’d last sat in EROS’ broadcast studios. Actually, it wasn’t the same studio, it was a twin, the mirror image of the one through the tinted glass that she’d first sprinted from twelve months ago when Dan turned her proposal down.
Back then she’d thought that nothing could be worse than standing in the elevator with the aghast curiosity of the station’s entire staff directed at her, begging the doors to close.
But coming back in here, today, was infinitely worse.
Back into Zander’s territory.
The man she hadn’t seen for over two months. A man she’d longed for over Christmas and cried for at New Year and absolutely dreaded seeing as Valentine’s Day approached.
A day of love and celebration.
Ugh.
‘Can I offer you a coffee?’ the segment producer said.
Yes. A warm drink would take the February chill from her fingers even if it couldn’t do anything for the one in her heart. She knew because she’d been trying these past months. ‘Tea, please?’
The producer shot a look at the teenaged girl by her side and she scarpered off to make Georgia’s tea, flushing.
‘Work experience,’ the producer grunted, tossing her hair.
Dogsbody, Georgia thought and instantly sided with the kid.
‘Have a seat,’ the woman said, and then, as Georgia sat, she added, ‘So you were sent the questions?’
‘Yes.’ And she had notes for her answers. ‘What was the best activity? What will I be keeping up after today? What did I learn from my year?’
‘If there’s anything off-script you’d like to add, you can go for it.’
Anything about Dan, she meant. The station was as good as their word—he’d not been mentioned since she first signed the contract.
‘If it comes up,’ she agreed. But nothing more. She wasn’t going to be pressured on her last moments under EROS’ power.
‘I’ve heard Zander’s final segment,’ the producer said. ‘It’s good.’
Georgia tried not to stiffen at the mere mention of his name.
‘Speak of the devil...’ one of the announcers murmured without the slightest change in facial expression and she did stiffen, then. Fully. But turning to look would have been too obvious.
The producer also pretended not to notice his arrival in the studio next to theirs, but her eyes flicked briefly to the darkened glass behind Georgia. ‘Great. Nothing like being watched to improve performance,’ she muttered while slightly diverting her face.
The announcer laughed.
The disrespect at Zander’s expense irked Georgia. She might have cut all ties with him but this was their boss they were sniggering about. A decent—if complicated—man, with a tough job to do.
‘Don’t worry,’ the producer said, misreading her face and leaning in to pretend to adjust Georgia’s headset. ‘He can’t hear us until I press the button. Soundproof.’
‘Then
