Chapter 22
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 ones where 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.”
On the screen there was a series of avatars with names underneath. Camille’s avatar image was a pair of scissors. Ryan’s was Thor’s hammer. She stifled a laugh. There were three other blank spaces without names.
“I’ve been putting both of our roles into the program. Once I have a better grasp of what has to happen in the lead up to and on the actual show day, I’ll start to fill out one of the other profiles. We might need to hire some extra people around fashion week, and I figure if we have a job spec already sorted, we can go to market and find the right candidates in plenty of time.”
“This might sound horrible, but I think your old boss was right in firing you. You’re organizational skills were wasted making coffee.”
“Being a barista wasn’t the issue. I really enjoy making coffee. I just wasn’t happy staying a grunt for the rest of my life.”
Camille clicked on her own avatar, and repeated her earlier words, “Absolutely wasted.”
Ryan had set up and mostly completed a full job description for her role, then gone ahead and linked it into the planning side of the app. He’d done the same for his current tasks, with some pieces added.
Her old PA, Hope had been good, but Ryan was next level.
She turned to face him. “Once again, Mister Collins, I’m beyond impressed. We have an appointment to see the show space in an hour, so if you would like to grab whatever you might need for our trip, we can start to head over to West 26 th Street.”
Knowing Ryan once he’d seen the location for the runway show, he’d have a million ideas he would want to discuss with her.
Ryan nodded. “I’ll grab an iPad. I can jot down some notes and hopefully take lots of photos.”
The main showcase venue for fashion week was a cavernous, empty space on the top floor of a building on West 26 th Street. After their IDs had been checked and they were allowed onto the floor, Ryan stood for a long while doing his best to envisage what this place would look like during fashion week.
He tried to imagine crowds of people all seated watching as models walked the runway accompanied by the music from chart topping tunes. But when it came to the notion of atmosphere he was entirely lost. What might be a blank canvas for designers was just a big soulless space to him.
He turned to Camille, ready to ask for her opinion, but was caught off guard by the bewildered expression which sat on her face. Her designer tote bag was gripped tightly in her hands, and she held it against her body.
I thought I was intimidated by this place. She looks positively terrified.
This was his first time in an exhibition space, so he’d expected to feel a little lost. But Camille who’d grown up among the fashion scene in France seemed just as daunted by the warehouse as he was. When Camille began to worry her bottom lip, Ryan’s heart went out to her.
Tempted as he was to offer her his hand, Ryan resisted. This was a business meeting. Up and coming fashion designers didn’t need their hands held.
“It’s not like the show spaces I’ve been to in Paris. There they are grand old buildings and former palaces. Elegant chandeliers and marble flooring. But with this, I don’t…” she waved a hand in the air. “I don’t know where to start. I mean.”
She rummaged frantically in her bag and pulled out the paper copy of the main email the organizers had sent. The creased four page document was covered front and back in Camille’s notes.
“The theme is meant to be Cinderella in the City. Whatever that means. I just thought I would have more to work with at the start, than just part of an empty warehouse.”
There was a hint of panic in her voice. As if she was having serious doubts about whether she could actually pull the show off.
Ryan moved closer. “I have all the designs for the clothes you are showcasing scanned into the planning app. Let’s take a look at them and then you might have a clearer idea as to how they would fit into a fairy tale type theme. And what this space might need.”
At least it would give them somewhere to start. He’d only been working for Camille for a short time, but already Ryan had begun to figure out how her mind worked. Sometimes she just needed a nudge in the right direction and then things would start to flow. He spied a nearby empty table and headed for it. “Come with me.”
Camille followed, and as she came to stand alongside him, Ryan flipped open the cover of his iPad, and logged into the planning app. He caught the look of relief on Camille’s face as the design flats of all the garments in her new collection filled the screen. When she clicked on the photos of the full colored forms, he could have sworn she let out a sob of relief.
Cocktail dresses. Pant suits. Summer frocks. Apparently floral dresses were known as frocks in fashion circles, which Ryan found to be a bit quaint and old fashioned. But no matter what you called them, Camille Royal certainly had a gift for design. The cream blazer with its small blue and yellow flowers dotted up the sleeves and across the lapel was nothing short of fantastic. He could just imagine the excited response it would receive at fashion week when it appeared on the runway.
The loud click of heels on the tiled floor had them both glancing up from the iPad. A woman in a killer black pant suit, carrying her own electronic tablet, approached them with efficient speed. “I take it you are my eleven o’clock appointment,” she said.
Camille stuffed her papers back into her tote bag and went to greet the event manager. “Hi, yes, I am Camille Royal. This is Ryan Collins my assistant.”
As the two women shook hands, the other woman introduced herself. “I’m Julia Spence, the director for runway shows. Welcome to the Really Big Space. Ridiculous name for a function venue, but don’t let it overwhelm you.”
A nervous laugh escaped Camille’s lips. “I think it might be a bit late for that. Ryan and I were talking about how we might look to fit my collection to the theme.”
Ryan offered Julia his hand, but she simply looked down her nose at him. He caught the message plain and clear. He was too far down the pecking order for her to be bothered dealing directly with him.
Ok, I have been put in my place.
Julia Spence was obviously the sort of person who had minions. Those minions likely had their own minions. If he was lucky, he might get to deal with an unpaid intern. If this was how the fashion industry was going to treat him, he was going to have to grow a thick skin and fast.
The woman’s haughty gaze and uber posh voice left him in no doubt as to her opinion of other people’s minions.
“You do know the theme for this year’s event is Cinderella in the City. All you have to do is interpret that in whatever way you like, and make the organizers happy. Which means making sure your part of the exhibition space doesn’t feel like an empty warehouse, more like a modern fairy tale palace.”
She glanced at the tablet in her hands. “There will be a black dividing curtain between your space and the main runway which Jilly G has booked after your show. And your little show must, I repeat, must finish on time.”
Once again Ryan had to fight back his protective urge to take a hold of Camille’s hand and give her his assurances that they would find a way for her to go to the ball.
I don’t care how many pumpkins and magic slippers it takes.
“Yes of course,” replied Camille. Not only were they expecting her to present her new collection, but she had to put on a full runway show. And it couldn’t goa minute over time.
This is going to cost a ton of work and cash.
When the director of runway shows went to press a large black folder into Camille’s hands, Ryan stepped forward and took the binder instead. “Do you have a team member who I can liaise with to handle any questions Ms. Royal might have?” he asked.
If the idea of acting all superior toward Camille and Ryan was part of some plan to intimidate them, Ryan wasn’t having a bar of it. He might not have worked a fashion show before, but he’d had a brief time in show business and knew that power hungry assholes crossed all career lines.
This isn’t my first time in dealing with the likes of you.
“Everything is in the guide book,” sniffed the director. She turned on her sharp heel and waved her hand imperiously at the space. “You now have twenty minutes to take photos, and walk around the venue. I will expect to see your preliminary designs and concept art by the end of July, along with your booking fee.”
She looked down her nose at Camille once more, then let out a slow, world weary breath. “Though I expect the money won’t be any sort of problem for your family, Ms. Royal.”
This woman is a 110% self-important bitch.
Ryan gritted his teeth. He could just imagine what people like Julia Spence thought of Camille. Spoilt French heiress, coming over here trying to tell New Yorkers how to do fashion.
Despite Camille’s many privileges she didn’t deserve anyone’s resentment or cruel jealousy because of it.
His heart swelled with pride as Camille calmly replied. “Thank you. I have already transferred the booking fee from the Camille Royal Designs company bank account. You should see my money cleared by the end of today.”
She wasn’t going to be cowered by the likes of the haughty Ms. Spence, who simply gave a brief nod and then made her exit.
Well done, Camille.
As soon as the event director had gone, Camille turned to Ryan. In a voice that shook with rage, she said. “I have worked so hard for this, and the booking fee is money I earned from the sale of my collections. I hate the inference that none of my success belongs to me, that my family bought it all.”
Ryan could tell that in standing up to Julia Spence, Camille’s pride had been bruised. Camille was nothing if not a fighter, but at the moment she just needed a little support from him.
He carefully handed Camille the black folder and iPad. “We only have twenty minutes here, so could you please put these in your tote bag? If you want to wander around and take a closer look at the exhibition space, I’ll spend my time taking photos. How does that sound?”
She gave him a grateful look, and replied, “Yes. That would be great. You are a lifesaver, Ryan.”
“Just doing my job.”
He wanted to say something to Camille about the director and the way she had treated them, but he held his tongue. The last thing he wanted was for his boss to feel like he, her temporary PA who had no fashion industry experience, was patronizing her. This was Camille’s world, and she had made it this far without some guy deciding she needed a knight in shining armor to come and save her.
Leaving Camille with her thoughts, Ryan took out his brand new cell phone and walked around the event space snapping off several dozen pictures. Once they had the images, Camille could then take her time to decide how she wanted to create her show.
She didn’t need him to come riding in on his white charger, but Camille’s creative well had to be kept safe. This morning, he’d seen the first of the sharp claws from the fashion world, and had taken an instant and hard dislike to them. Between now and the day of the runway show, he would be her shadow. His own dream was still in the making, but in the meantime, he’d do anything to protect hers.