Page 35 of All the Drama from New York

But when she was this close to him, it made breathing difficult.

As Ryan reached for the laptop with his right hand, he wiped the sweaty palm of his left hand on his jeans, and prayed she didn’t notice. “Ok, let me explain how the app works and that should give you a good idea as to the direction I was thinking we could go with it for fashion week.”

When Camille grabbed her own chair and dragged it around to his side of the two desk arrangement then sat, Ryan did his best to focus on the computer monitor. Her perfume had his cock twitching in anticipation of the end of a long, long dry spell.

He swallowed deep, and forced himself to think of NFL team stats. Anything other than the way his new boss filled out those purple suit pants of hers. Ryan was still battling his lust as Camille leaned forward and asked in that sultry French accent that he knew one day would be his undoing. “Teach me, Ryan.”

I am done for.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

It was a little after six o’clock when the sound of Camille’s high heels echoed on the concrete floor of the design room. Raising his head, Ryan caught sight of her standing in the doorway.

Camille let out a gasp of surprise. “Oh Ryan, you are still here! I’m sorry, I should have sent you home an hour ago,” she exclaimed.

After he’d shown her the new software application and she’d clapped her hands together in delight, his new boss had disappeared for the rest of the afternoon. Working alone in the studio was weirdly unsettling. Ryan wasn’t used to spending this much time on his own. He was used to a noisy busy café with people buzzing all around him. The silence in the quiet space weighed heavily on him.

“Yes, I was just getting one of the existing templates tailored to our needs for fashion week.”

Ryan had spent several hours going through the press and media releases from the previous event which had been held in February, making copious and detailed notes. From what he could tell fashion week was a whirlwind of madness, where only the strong survived.

But he wasn’t worried about what it would entail, instead he was excited. This was a whole new world. The promise of a fresh challenge.

Camille glanced at the computer monitor. “Um, that sounds great, but you didn’t have to stay past five o’clock on your first day. How about we agree that for any work past your official hours, I will pay you overtime?”

Overtime. He liked the sound of that. The hourly rate she was paying him was already far better than what he’d been earning at the coffee shop, and he wasn’t having to rely on tips.

I could easily get used to this sort of job.

It was only then that he noticed the bottle of wine in Camille’s hand. She glanced down at it and sheepishly grinned. “Six o’clock in France means apéro time. I like to come up here in the early evening and stare at the mannequins while I have a glass. It helps with the design process.”

“I expect it clears your brain of a lot of noise. You must be permanently busy.”

She gave him an appreciative smile. “Yes. A crowded mind doesn’t lend itself to creating fresh pieces.” Camille glanced at the bottle. “I’m all out of olives and cheese this evening, but I still have wine. Could I tempt you to have a drink with me or do you have to get home?”

A pretty girl—scratch that, a gorgeous girl—was asking him if he wanted to stay for a drink. Thoughts of the airless subway; and the crowded trains out to East Orange at this hour of the evening, made the decision for Ryan an easy one.

“A glass of wine would be lovely thank you. But shouldn’t I be opening the bottle and finding us some glasses? I am your assistant, that’s my job.”

“Merci,” she whispered as Ryan took the bottle from Camille’s hands. As he did their fingers brushed and Ryan wascertain his heart skipped a beat. His head was feeling light as he gripped the bottle tight and headed toward the kitchen.

Camille Royal was a stunningly beautiful woman, but she was also his employer. It would be the height of stupidity for him to start thinking of her in any sort of non-professional way. She’d taken a chance, and saved him from bussing tables or dipping into his scant savings account to make ends meet. He had to keep all lustful thoughts of her and what lay beneath that cute as hell pink button down shirt well out of his mind.

And that also went for when he was alone in his bed. Only a complete douche would jerk himself off to the thoughts of his female boss, of what those soft lips of hers would feel like wrapped around his cock.

Jeez. Day One. Back off with the creepy vibe Collins.

In the kitchen, Ryan took his time finding the glasses, and the bottle opener. The wine wasn’t the sort where you could just unscrew the lid. He’d bet a week’s salary that Camille Royal had never even seen a bottle of screw top wine from Trader Joes or anywhere else.

When he returned to the main studio, uncorked bottle of wine and two glasses in hand, Camille had taken a seat at Ryan’s desk, and was tapping away on the keyboard. She glanced up at him, and grinned. “This is really good. I mean I can understand what the templates are doing. And I love how you have added some graphics and images. Designers are visual people, and this is…fantastic.”

Praise for my efforts, wow.

He set the glasses down at the other end of the desk and poured them both a drink. After passing one to Camille, Ryan bowed his head. “Thank you for today. It’s been fun. I’ve really enjoyed getting stuck into the new system. I’m hoping by the end of Monday, we will have everything from Hope’s rainbow spreadsheets reflected in the app. Then we can start to build.”

She raised her glass to him. “Sante.”

Ryan followed suit. “Sante. I know that means cheers because my brother was in France last year and when he came home every time, we had a beer, he would say it.”

---