Page 81 of All the Drama from New York

“Wait what? A series. What happened to the bit about a one off reunion special?”

Over the past few days, he’d begun to resign himself to the idea of having to do a reunion show. He could film his bits, in between working for Camille.

But a whole series focused on him, and his search for love? Impossible.

I can’t do that.

Right now, he wasn’t entirely sure how Camille felt about him. Or whether she even saw them as having a romantic future after fashion week. But he was pretty darn certain that Camille would not be happy if he signed up for a reality tv show where he went looking for love with someone else.

And especially not when he was still sharing her bed every night.

I can’t risk her thinking that something fake might be real.

Lee turned and glanced at his laptop. “It’s an eight episode series, to be shot in New York over a twelve week period. You’re due to meet Derick Stad on set, two weeks from today.”

Twelve weeks? Fashion week is in mid-September.

Ryan pushed back his chair, and slowly rose. He was barely holding things together. “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to see me, Lee. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go back to Derick Stad and tell him, contract or no, I can’t possibly do the series.”

His agent picked up the bulky contract and held it out to Ryan. “Take this with you. I’ve highlighted the relevant clauses. I hope you have a good lawyer, Ryan. Because if you refuse to do the new series, the network, the showrunner, and your commission earning agent, will all sue.”

Ryan nodded. Let them try. No one, not even the best lawyers, could get blood out of a stone. He had an old wreck for a car, and not much money in the bank. What could they possibly do to him?

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

“They could garnish your wages for however long it takes to pay out the sum the court awards them; and then in the future if you do happen to get any assets, they can look to seize them. Just because you don’t have any money right now doesn’t mean you won’t have to pay,” explained Bryce.

Two days after Ryan had flown out to LA to see his agent, Bryce, Camille, and several members of the Royal Resorts legal team were gathered around the board table at the offices of Royal Resorts in Hudson Yards.

They were hoping to find a way out of Ryan’s contract, but things weren’t looking good.

“You could be paying off the costs of a legal case for many years to come,” observed one of the legal eagles seated next to Bryce.

Camille, who’d already woken up this morning feeling a little off color, was beginning to wonder if she might just throw up all over that stupid contract.

This whole thing is insane.

She couldn’t believe they expected Ryan to feature in a new tv series where he went searching for love. There couldn’t be asingle person in the entire continental USA who was oblivious to the fact that Ryan Collins was currently the ‘toyboy plaything’ of a runaway French heiress. That he was sharing Camille Royal’s bed.

Their relationship was still all over social media. They were followed everywhere they went. Two Royal family security guards were permanently based in the lobby of her building. Apart from a select list of carefully vetted visitors, no one was allowed up to her apartment.

Her gaze went to Ryan.If we weren’t in a room full of people, I’d take your hand and give it a squeeze.

As it was, her focus was more on herself and why she felt so nauseous.

I can’t afford to get sick this close to fashion week.

“Our legal team will keep looking for loopholes in the contract Mister Collins, but at this point I would say you might need to reconcile yourself to having to go along with the terms of the agreement,” added another of the lawyers.

There was silence in the room for a short time, then Ryan turned to her. “This is purely a contract—nothing more. Whatever happens on the show, you must know it’s not real. I can’t be, because this...” He pointed to her then to himself. “is what’s real.”

A wave of emotion rose in her, and hot tears pricked at Camille’s eyes. Here in the boardroom of her cousin’s company, Ryan was making a public declaration. The producers of the tv series couldn’t make him lose his heart to another woman. Why? Because she already owned it.

Camille swallowed down the bile which had risen in her throat. She’d already lost her breakfast in the bathroom before she and Ryan had left the apartment. His words brought her comfort, but her emotions were bouncing all over the place.

She touched a hand to Bryce’s shoulder, and in a voice barely above a whisper, pleaded, “Keep looking. Do whatever you have to do to break this contract.”

Ryan had said that whatever happened on the show wouldn’t be real. She knew all of it would be fake. But the mere thought of him even having to pretend to be in love with another woman sent waves of anxiety coursing through her body.

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