Page 1 of All the Gossip from Paris
CHAPTER ONE
Outside an office building,
West 26th Street, New York City
A warm September evening.
“I still can’t let you in,” said the security guard. He closed up Sophie’s passport and handed it back to her. “It doesn’t matter who you say you are, miss. If your name isn’t on my list, there’s nothing I can do about it. Sorry. Rules are rules.”
Sophie gritted her teeth. She didn’t need an apology—she needed to get inside the building. She had to see her sister, Camille.
I can’t believe this is happening.
She was Sophie Royal. The mere mention of her name was usually more than enough to have any door opened to her. The only time she ever needed to show some sort of ID was when she was being VIP ushered through international customs, and even then, it was little more than a formality. A polite glance at her passport followed by a ‘welcome Ms. Royal, your driver is waiting for you’.
But this was New York City; and the man on the door seemed determined to stick to the rules.
If only I was able to call Camille and tell her, I’m here. I’m such an idiot.
The battery in her cell phone had died on the flight over from Paris, and she hadn’t remembered to charge it on the drive into the city. She had no way to get in touch with anyone.
I don’t even know Camille’s phone number. Sigh. First-world problems.
She was about to ask the guard if he could radio someone upstairs, when a stranger appeared at her side. The guy was carrying a large sports bag, and had a leather satchel slung over his shoulder. Whoever he was, he was all business.
And I’m clearly in his way.
Sophie stepped back as the man moved quickly toward the door. She caught sight of the large black and white security pass which he flashed to the security guard. The words New York Fashion Week were printed in bold letters on the top.
“Hi, I’m Liam Collins, the photographer for Camille Royal’s runway show. It’s in the Really Big Space upstairs,” said the stranger.
The guard’s demeanor changed from chilly to warm in an instant. He even smiled. “Feel free to head on up, Mister Collins. Take the bank of elevators to your right once you get inside.”
Sophie saw an opening. A chance that was going begging. If she could get this photographer guy to let Camille know that her sister was downstairs, she still might manage to make it into the building.
“Um. Excuse me,” she said.
The stranger turned to her. “Yes?”
She took in his brown eyes. The mop of gorgeously ruffled dark hair. But it was his disarming smile which sent a shiver of hot lust suddenly racing down her spine.
Camille had been right. These American guys were dangerous. And if anyone should know it was her sister. She’d already fallen for one. And was now having his baby.
Sophie pushed away the foolish thought of getting hot and heavy with a complete stranger, and focused back on the problem at hand. Getting upstairs to see Camille.
“I couldn’t help but overhear you say that you’re going upstairs to Camille Royal’s fashion show.” She held out a hand. “I’m Sophie. I’ve just arrived from Paris, and I’m here to see Camille. She’s, my sister.”
He shook her hand. “I’m Liam. I’m taking the photos for Camille’s runway launch. Nice to meet you, Sophie.”
Producing her phone from out of her tote bag, Sophie showed Liam the blank screen. “Unfortunately my cell phone battery is dead. I can’t call anyone. I was wondering if you could possibly help me.”
She glanced quickly in the direction of the security guard, then turned back to the photographer. “I wasn’t meant to be in New York tonight, so my name isn’t on the door. That man won’t let me upstairs.”
The hot stranger’s alluring smile broke into a full on grin. “Let me call my brother Ryan and see if we can sort something out. He works for Camille as her personal assistant. Does all sorts of things for her.”
Yes, Cami has told me some of the wicked things your brother can do.
Ryan certainly did do a lot for her sister, including getting her pregnant. For a moment Sophie wondered just how much Ryan’s brother knew of the connection between Camille and her personal assistant.
