Page 26 of All the Drama from New York

He didn’t have the heart to tell the French fashion designer that the instructions Hope had left for Camille were somewhat incomplete. As he worked through the convoluted system, Camille sat beside Ryan filling him in on the Neil drama, and the reasons for Hope’s sudden departure. By the time he’d figured things out, he was more than convinced that the missing instructions had not been a simple oversight.

I sense the touch of this Neil asshole’s hand on Hope’s email.

He finished chewing his food, then declared. “These muffins are absolutely delicious. Where did you get them from?”

She gifted him with a smile which made his heart skip a beat. “I had them delivered this morning. The heritage bacon is the best.”

He’d eaten two of them, washing them down with the coffee Camille had made. Ryan couldn’t remember the last time he’dhad such a delicious breakfast. None of the food they’d served atJava Junctioncame close.

Wiping his face with his napkin, Ryan turned in his chair and faced Camille.

She was happily nursing a hot beverage. When she’d gone to make the coffees, he’d hazarded a guess that Camille was a stickler for tradition. Long black, with a dash of milk. No sweetener. No creamer. Ryan glanced at Camille’s cup and his barista instincts told him he was right.

If only my super power was more than being able to predicate the way people take their coffee.

His gaze flittered to Camille’s empty plate and then to his own. Her guilt over having knocked him down must have been so bad, she’d let him eat her portion of the breakfast muffins.

Now who feels bad?

Their collision in the street had been purely an accident. He wanted to show her that he held no hard feelings. Instead, he wanted to help.

“Is this spreadsheet something you would want to keep using going forward? I mean would you be happy to teach this to a new PA, or try to run it yourself?”

Camille let out a strangled whimper at his words. “To be honest, Ryan, I’d much prefer a big fat paper planner. I used to buy a fabric covered one fromMerciin Paris each year. I had a matching pencil case full of pens and pencils which I loved. But Hope insisted I change. She said if I was to be taken seriously by the people at New York Fashion Week, I had to have an electronic system.”

“I would have to agree with her. You need a system that can be used by more than one person at a time, and also gives you the ability to access it remotely via the cloud.”

Camille took a long sip of her coffee. “I don’t really care what a system looks like, just as long as it’s something I can understand. If I can have that, I’ll be more than happy.”

“Ok, give me a little while longer and hopefully this gene will be able to grant you your wish,” replied Ryan. He gave Camille a wink.

After another half hour of taking notes and updating the instructions, Ryan had started to unravel the secrets of the spreadsheet. His head still throbbed, but he had achieved something.

He sat back from the desk. “Ok, so I’ve amended the instructions, and you should be able to make better sense of the system. Reading this was like trying to decipher the Egyptian hieroglyphics at the Metropolitan Museum of Art,” he said.

Camille gently laughed. “Actually I was going with Ancient Aramaic, but I’m glad that someone else found them hard to understand. It makes me feel less stupid.”

As she leaned forward to read the extra notes Ryan had made, the sound of an intercom buzz echoed in the room. She patted him on the shoulder, and rose from her seat. “That will be your new phone. Back in a moment.”

When she returned, she was carrying a small green and white paper bag. But that wasn’t what caught Ryan’s attention—rather it was the tall well-dressed gentleman who trailed in Camille’s wake. Ryan rose slowly from his chair.

Anyone who worked in the hotel industry in New York would recognize that face. He was Bryce Royal. CEO of Royal Resorts USA. He’d been named one of Forbes fastest rising stars earlier in the year, and was one of the USA’s youngest CEOs. To a guy like Ryan, Bryce Royal was nothing short of a legend.

Camille held out the bag to Ryan. “Your new phone. Delivered in exactly one hour.”

Unsure of what to say, Ryan took a hold of the bag and peeked inside. Con had sent him the very latest model iPhone. Something so far out of his price range, that even if he still had a job, he couldn’t afford one. “Thank you,” he finally managed.

Bryce held out his hand. “Bryce Royal, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Ryan, was it?”

They shook hands. “Yes, Ryan Collins. It’s an honor to meet you Mister Royal. I’ve heard so much about your developments in the hotel industry in Europe. And I’ve been watching what Royal Resorts have been doing here in the US over the past couple of years. Very exciting.”

Camille gave Bryce a sideways glance, and he shook his head. “Please call me Bryce, because if you don’t, I am going to get so much stick from my cousin.”

She laughed at him. “As you should. But I’m a little confused as to why you, the CEO of Royal Resorts and my chief investor, has been relegated to playing delivery boy for a phone.”

“That’s easy. I got your message about Hope leaving, and thought I should drop by and see how you were doing,” replied Bryce.

Bryce Royal was Camille’s cousin.

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