Page 45 of All the Drama from New York

You don’t mix business with pleasure. You don’t mess around at work.

And you don’t look at your female boss and think how much you would love to bury your face between her legs.

Especially not that.

But all the sensible arguments fell away as Ryan turned to Camille and said, “We could try it for a week or two, and see how it goes. If you feel uncomfortable having me around your studio and apartment all the time, I’ll just go home at night. How does that sound?”

It sounds like you are trying to have your cake and eat it too, Ryan Collins.

And so what if he was? If they were both single and played this sensibly no one would get hurt. Or fired.

I don’t even know if she is single. Maybe she’s just flirting because she’s Camille and it doesn’t mean anything.

For all he knew she might have a boyfriend, or even a fiancé tucked away someplace else. Like France. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fallen for a woman only to discover that she was already spoken for.

He stopped his brain before it ran completely away with that insane thought. Camille wasn’t offering him sex, she was asking if her personal assistant would like to stay over for a few nights during the work week to help make her New York fashion week debut a success.

He would have his own room. Use the guest bathroom. And keep everything above board.

And my hands to myself.

“I think seeing how it goes would be a great idea,” said Camille. “I know in the lead up to September we will be putting in some long hours. It would make it easier for you if you’re getting sleep here instead of having to travel back and forth from your home.”

Ok, she was setting boundaries. Good. His lustful interest in her would have to go back into its box and stay there. Though, he might need to use some serious duct tape to keep the box closed.

“I’ll go home tonight and pack a bag. We can start the new arrangement from tomorrow. I’m sure it will work out fine.”

Ryan focused his attention once more on his breakfast. He’d just signed up to sleeping under the same roof as Camille and he had no idea how he was going to make this work.

Work out fine. What the hell was I thinking?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

She’d already read it a half dozen times, but Camille still let out a squeal of delight as she opened the second email from the fashion week organizers once more. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to be featured. That I have a date and time for my debut runway show. September 14th is going to come around so fast.”

Ryan who was seated across the desk from her looked up from his work and grinned. “From all I’ve seen online, this is definitely a big milestone for anyone who aspires to a fashion design career. You’ve obviously worked hard, and it’s well deserved.”

Being selected for fashion week was the sort of thing she’d only dreamt of achieving before coming to the US. Paris might well be the most prestigious fashion festival in the world, but New York was where Camille’s career hopes lay. Her ready to wear fashions were the sort of thing which could be worn by many woman, not just those with deep pockets.

“Thanks Ryan, yes it has been hard work. It’s taken me the better part of four years to get on their radar— and that’s with several seasons of clothes stocked and sold by Saks Fifth Avenue,and some other major stores. To say it’s tough to gain a place in fashion week is a huge understatement.”

Camille turned to look at her slightly battered print out of the follow up email. The paper copy had many lines highlighted in pink. Dates and times circled in black. The email was long and detailed, covering all the things which the organizers of fashion week expected from a new designer.

The details of each garment that was being featured was just the beginning. Multiple insurance forms. Intellectual Property registrations. Non disclosures. Non competes. And the request for her booking fee.

Camille might not be a new designer, but in their eyes, she was barely anyone. It was money upfront, or her show couldn’t be confirmed.

It’s a lot to deliver, just for one thirty minute make or break show.

More than she could handle on her own. Camille cleared her throat. “How would you feel about running the show during fashion week? I’ll have my hands full dealing with the clothes, and the models. I need someone who can deal with guest lists, requests from the press, and last minute deliveries. Basically making sure everything and everyone, is where they are meant to be.”

Ryan’s CV had noted his work in various hotels, and his skills in putting together the planning app were nothing short of impressive. But sitting at a desk and tapping away at a keyword was one thing, handling the pressures of a fashion show was a different beast.

But I think he could do it.

“I’ve watched a few videos on what happens backstage at various fashion events, and I can see it’s pretty hectic. But the ones which don’t appear to have any real issues are the oneswhere they keep things simple and everyone seems to know in advance what is expected of them,” he replied.

After tapping away at his laptop for a few more seconds, Ryan picked it up and brought it around to where Camille sat. He placed it in front of her, and proudly announced, “Which is why I have created roles in our planning app.”

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