Page 24 of All the Drama from New York

And from the stunning array of fabrics which were pinned to the various models it was clear Camille’s creations were far removed from the cotton summer shorts which Ryan’s mom made.

Camille pushed aside the laptop which sat on the desk farthest away, then dropped her parcels and bags onto it. She carefully stepped out of her high heels. Wriggling her toes she muttered. “Oh, c'est mieux. Much better.”

She turned to face him. “What a morning we’ve both had, Ryan… sorry, I didn’t quite catch your surname.”

You didn’t catch it because I didn’t give it to you. But here goes nothing.

He held out his hand. “Ryan Collins.”

She gave him an odd look. It was the same one he often received from people who upon hearing his name, took a minute or two to recognize him from the tv show. The shock of shoulder length white hair was long gone, but his face was still the same. And once people realized who he was; they often liked to share their own take on the show, and who’d been their particular favorite to win.

He’d never understood why complete strangers felt it necessary to offer up their uninvited opinions on the subject of who should have won Kaylee’s heart. Despite his best endeavors to not give a damn about the opinions of others, the pain of his public humiliation and heartbreak continued to simmer in his soul.

To Ryan’s bone deep relief Camille didn’t say anything at the mention of his surname, she merely took his hand, and they shook. As they did, he recalled what she’d said about her time in the US.

If Camille had been in New York for four years, then there was a pretty good chance she hadn’t even heard ofBachelors on the Beach.

She was probably too busy getting her business set up to worry about a stupid reality tv show.

At least he would be spared that uncomfortable conversation. Considering the kind of day he was having, he’d take any small win he could. Any time he was able to avoid reliving the most embarrassing moment of his life was a blessing.

Camille flipped her hair back over her shoulders and smiled at him. “Now what can I tempt you to eat, Ryan?”

Ryan really liked the way Camille said tempt.

CHAPTER TEN

She’d recognized the name. And when she looked closer, his face. On the tv show Ryan had been blessed with a gorgeous mop of blond hair, so pale it was almost white. But the man standing before her, had short brown hair.

There’d been something familiar about him, but she hadn’t had time to truly figure out what it was. Now she understood.

But since he hadn’t mentioned the reality tv show, she decided to let it go. Something Camille had learned from her time working with the world famous popstar Chloe Fisher, was that people who were in the public eye wanted to be in control of when and where they got recognized.

If they were on the red carpet at an awards show, then yes feel free to gush all over them. But if they were in a pair of grubby sweatpants and a hoodie buying a tub of ice cream at 3am at the grocery store, they didn’t want to be hassled.

In Ryan’s case if you had just been knocked off your feet in the middle of a busy city street, your fifteen minutes of fame wasn’t something you were likely to bring up as a conversation starter. If he’d wanted talk about the show, he would haveintroduced himself as Ryan Collins fromBachelors on the Beach. He hadn’t.

Camille had developed a bit of a thing for Ryan during and after the show, and had eagerly followed him on Instagram. But when he’d eventually stopped posting on social media, she had quietly unfollowed him. She was far too busy to spend her rare moments of free time on stalking a guy whose last insta post had been over three years ago. Her reality tv show crush had faded quietly into obscurity.

Perhaps that’s what he wanted. His old life back.

“Before I go see about some food, is there someone you’d like to call? Let them know you are, ok?” she asked. He looked alright, but still, he had taken a serious tumble in the street.

She followed his gaze as Ryan pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and examined the screen. He tapped it a few times, but nothing happened. “Damn,” he murmured. It must have smashed when he fell.

When I knocked him over.

“Is it broken?” she asked.

He nodded his head. “Looks like it. It’s my own stupid fault. I’ve been meaning to get a cover for it, but I keep forgetting.”

Camille saw an opening. A chance to make some small amends for having ruined this poor guy’s day. “Actually it’s my fault it got broken. If I hadn’t been trying to carry too many things at the one time. In those stupid heels. I would have been able to avoid running you down.” She held out her hand. “Give it to me, and I’ll have a replacement phone in your hand within the hour.”

A skeptical look appeared on his face. “That’s a very specific time frame to replace a cell phone.”

Camille retrieved her own phone from her purse and spoke into the microphone.

“Siri call Con.”

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