Page 79 of All the Drama from New York

Ryan went to rise from the couch, but Camille grabbed a hold of his shirt sleeve. Her mother wouldn’t dare tear into her if she thought someone else was listening.

Stay.She silently mouthed.

“Mama, Ryan is with me, so I will put you on speakerphone.”

Her mother wouldn’t like that one little bit, but Camille wasn’t in the mood for placating people. She hit the speaker button and set the phone on the coffee table.

“I take it that Ryan does not parler français.”

Ryan cleared his throat. “No, unfortunately I don’t Mrs. Royal. But I do intend to remedy that situation. And very soon.”

Marina huffed down the phone in disgust. “Well if I have to speak English, so be it. No doubt you know why I am calling. The story of this illicit relationship has reached France. Your father is dégoûté, as am I.”

Camille met Ryan’s gaze, and whispered, “It means my parents are disgusted.” She turned back to the phone. “There is nothing illicit about our relationship. Ryan and I are lovers. And have been so for some time.”

With her whole future at stake, she was determined to own the narrative. She had done nothing which demanded her to feelany sense of shame. But her love life wasn’t something Camille wished to discuss with her mother, and especially not in front of Ryan.

“What happened to being discreet about taking a lover? If this was France, you wouldn’t do such a thing. You wouldn’t parade your paramour in public for all the world to see,” came a terse male voice.

Just when she thought her day couldn’t get any worse, François Royal had joined the call. “I thought you went to America to make a name for yourself. What sort of name are you trying to make young lady?”

Camille fought back tears. She hated how with only a few words her father could make her feel small. Could tear her down.

“Mister Royal, this is Ryan Collins. Camille hasn’t done anything wrong. The press got hold of a story because of an old tv show I was a contestant on four years ago.”

“Yes, a reality dating show. I read the article online,” huffed François.

Camille took hold of Ryan’s hand, mustering her best tearful smile for him as a sign of gratitude.

“Sir, if you have read the article then I’m certain that you’ve already gathered that Camille, and I have nothing to be ashamed about. We are continuing to work on Camille’s runway show for New York fashion week, which we have done since June.”

Camille swallowed deep. Few people were brave enough to stand up to her father. She loved how Ryan refused to remain silent and take a scolding like a little boy.

No and that’s because he’s a man.

“Good. Because I need to be certain that you won’t foutre en l’air...”

Camille snatched up the phone and quickly took it off speaker. Ryan didn’t need to know that her father would hold him responsible if things didn’t go well with her runwaycollection. When François Royal got riled up, few people could stop him. And she knew enough of Ryan to be certain he wasn’t the sort to take her father’s accusations all that well. It was better she spoke to him directly.

In French. And out of earshot of Ryan.

She headed for the stairs and the design studio.

He didn’t speak French—he didn’t need to. He could tell from the way Camille had flinched at her father’s last words that whatever François had said it wouldn’t translate as something polite.

He hadn’t met the man, but he had an uncomfortable feeling the moment he did, he and Camille’s father would be butting heads. A showdown with François Royal was looming, because parent or not, he had no right to treat Camille this way. Ryan was in her corner, and if needed he would come out swinging.

But what if I’m not good enough to take on her wealthy family? I’m just a bum from New Jersey, and these people have money and power. Real power.

It was nearing ten o’clock, and he’d still not managed to get anywhere near a cup of coffee. Or food. Which meant he was fast heading into hangry territory. Even the unopened packet of snickerdoodles lying on the floor were starting to look good. Ryan picked them up and set them on the bench.

If he didn’t get something in his stomach and soon, he was going to log back into Instagram. Once he did, he’d start battlingwith the worst of the lowlifes who’d left spiteful comments about him and Camille.

But getting permanently banned by a social media platform wouldn’t help Camille. It would only add to her problems. He had to play things smarter than that.

This isn’t about me.

It was about Camille and protecting her career. He had to stop waiting for things to happen, and instead seek out the people who were still hiding in the shadows.

---