Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Two Days Later
Camille was out of bed and fully dressed a little after dawn. By seven o’clock she’d tidied up the workspace, and after figuring out how to use it had even run the vacuum cleaner over the floor. Her weekly cleaner had been only two days ago, but nerves had her oddly on edge.
When the sound of the buzzer for the front door echoed in the studio, she raced downstairs and quickly checked her hair and makeup. She glanced at her watch. It was eight fifteen. Ryan was due at nine o’clock. If it was him, he was early.
A fantastic start.
And take a deep breath. This is only a new employee.
She met her gaze once more in the mirror, doing her best to convince herself that an employee was all Ryan was to her.
He’d rarely crossed her mind over the past four years. But even she couldn’t deny that there had been some nights when an imaginary lover with long blond hair had laid claim to her body, and brought Camille to an earth shattering climax.
And now after having met Ryan in person, all she could do was think about him, imagining what it would be like to lay naked in his arms. To have him do all the things…
Oh god, I have to stop thinking about him like that!
Her libido fueled imagination was driving her mad. She was certain no sane woman would ever think this way about a random guy from a tv show. A guy who was starting work with her today.
At the door, Camille pressed the intercom button. “Hello?”
Ryan’s smiling face appeared in the camera. “Good morning. I know I am little early, but I wanted to confirm that I have your coffee order right. Long black with a generous dash of real milk.”
Por qua?
“Why do you need that? We have a coffee machine.”
When he bit nervously on his bottom lip, she was suddenly reminded of all those nights watching him on Bachelors on the Beach . Of how she had fallen just a little in love with the swoony Ryan Collins.
Oh god, did I let my crush rule my head? I’ve employed a guy I had the hots for four years ago. Camille, Imbécile!
“It’s my first day, and I’m trying to make a good impression. I know an incredible coffee place not far from here and they have amazing beans and bake their own croissants.”
She caught the gentle pleading in his voice. He really did want this job, and to make it a success. It would take someone with a hard heart to refuse him. And Camille had always been a softie for a winning smile.
“Alright, but make sure you get a receipt for it. I will reimburse you.”
She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that the food service team from Royal Resorts Manhattan had already delivered her daily breakfast, and that it was in the refrigerator in her apartment.
When he didn’t move, Camille tapped the glass screen. Had the feed frozen? “Are you still there?” she asked.
“Yes. I was waiting for your croissant order. They have plain, chocolate, ham and cheese, and my personal favorite, almond.”
“Oh gosh, um. The ham. Um. No wait. Hmm.” She was already flustered around him, and he hadn’t yet made it into the building. Camille was still struggling to find her usual calm when she finally said. “Almond sounds great, thank you.”
“Excellent. I shall see you soon, Camille.”
He disappeared from the camera view, and Camille let go of the button. Stepping away from the intercom, she put a hand to her lips. If this was how she was going to behave around him, she’d never get any work done.
And how was she supposed to manage him?
It wasn’t even eight thirty and she was already second guessing her decision to hire Ryan. But if this was a problem, it was one of her own making. A problem only she could solve.
I need to come clean with Ryan.
The only way this was going to work was if she told Ryan she knew who he was, and that she’d watched the show. Hopefully he would brush it off as something that was well in his past. He hadn’t bothered to mention it in his CV.
I don’t know what I’ll do if he is embarrassed by it.
The last thing she wanted was for Ryan to be uncomfortable, and end up making his first day his last.
Half an hour later Ryan and Camille were standing side by side in the small kitchen just off the design studio drinking their coffees and eating their delicious almond croissants. The coffee beans had met with her approval, and he’d made a quick mental note to buy a bag of them from the coffee shop to restock the office machine.
Today he’d strip down the coffee machine, clean it thoroughly, and from tomorrow morning start making fresh brews here on site. He’d dazzle Camille with his barista skills. Make himself so indispensable his new boss would never want to let him go.
“Here is your keycard for the front door and also for the elevator. It is coded to both this floor and also my apartment downstairs,” said Camille, handing Ryan a small plastic card.
“We used to have a coded keypad, but some of the other tenants kept forgetting their codes and it became a nightmare having to go down and let people in.”
“Thank you,” said Ryan slipping the card into his jean’s pocket. He had a spare lanyard at home left over from an old job and would bring that with him to work tomorrow.
That’s if he lasted that long.
Camille was weirdly nervous around him. When she spoke to him, she barely looked his way. She flatly refused to meet his gaze.
Oh god is she having second thoughts about employing me? I want this job, but maybe she doesn’t need me after all.
She was a lot more nervous with him than she had been the other day when they’d first met. And definitely more than when her cousin had been with her. If she’d had a bad experience with another man at some point, he was going to have to tread very carefully, and do everything he could in order to gain her trust.
But she’s just given me the key to the studio and her apartment. I don’t understand what’s going on.
Camille sipped her coffee, then took a small bite of her almond pastry before setting it aside. Gripping the edge of the counter top his new boss let out a shaky breath.
It was natural for him to be nervous on his first day, but she was positively jumpy.
This doesn’t auger well for a close working relationship.
Ryan was still wondering if his employment would make it all the way to lunchtime, when Camille suddenly turned to him. When she let out yet another nervous sigh, Ryan braced himself for the worst. Any moment now she was going to tell him this had been a mistake, and she was going to have to let him go.
I knew I should have got Liam to buy that case of pity party beer.
“I’m sorry if I am behaving a little strange Ryan. I should have brought this up the moment you gave me your surname. Or at least before you started this morning.”
Ryan’s hand, which had been about to pick up his croissant, stilled in midair, then dropped to his side. “Brought what up?”
The question sounded as hollow as he felt. His hopes that this would be the first job where no one raised the subject of his moment of national humiliation began to quickly fade.
Camille silently chastised herself. He didn’t want her to mention the tv show. The look of pain on Ryan’s face was the same as the one he’d worn that night on the beach. When he hadn’t been chosen as the winning bachelor.
“I’m so sorry. I was only thinking of how awkward this was for me, when what I should really have done is kept my mouth shut. I promise, we won’t speak of Bachelors on the Beach ever again,” she stammered.
But the damage was done. And no matter how much either of them might wish the subject of Bachelors on the Beach to go away, there was no stuffing it back into its box.
“I was kinda hoping since you’d arrived around the same time as I was on the show you might not have seen it. Or did you find out about it when you googled my name?”
This was one of those ripping off the band-aid moments that Bryce was always talking about. She could only hope that the pain wouldn’t last too long.
“Would you believe, the series premiered the night I arrived in New York? I watched every episode. You were the blond guy who they kept making Thor jokes about.” She reached out and patted him gently on the arm. “But you were much more than just a cute barista. I cried all over a fabulous platter of sushi when that stupid girl Kaylee didn’t choose you.”
He gave her a tight laugh in response. “I can’t believe you ruined perfectly good sushi over a fake reality dating show.”
Silence fell over the small kitchen space, broken only when Camille finally whispered, “It didn’t look fake to me. I really thought you were in love with her, and I was so sure you were going to win. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
Ryan met her gaze. He hated that they were having this conversation on his very first day, but he also felt a sense of relief. At least this way, if anyone else brought up the subject of Bachelors on the Beach , he wouldn’t have to explain it all to Camille in front of some stranger. Painful as it was, this was the best place for them to have this discussion and hopefully move on from it.
“You must know that most of it was staged. A great deal of what you saw on screen was scripted, and rehearsed,” he said.
It was a flat out lie, but it was better than admitting to his new boss that Kaylee had torn his heart out in front of a live audience of millions. She’d played him for a fool, and he’d been utterly humiliated.
Camille was wrong. Kaylee wasn’t stupid, far from it. She had cleverly decided on the winner, the man to whom she would pin her hopes for fame and fortune, right from the very beginning.
But like the rest of the world, I was too blind to see it. Until it was too late.
He would never admit that, never let anyone know how much he’d been hurt and shamed by it all.
“So you knew she wasn’t going to choose you?”
“Of course. We knew before the end of the show that I wasn’t going to be the guy she picked. I had to use my best acting skills to force that pained look on my face as I stood on the beach.”
“But what about the tears? You were crying,” she asked.
He sensed Camille wasn’t quite buying the story. “They used a special menthol stick to bring them on. The camera loves a close up of a crushed hero,” replied Ryan, not missing a beat.
He let his left arm hang by his side all the while praying that Camille couldn’t see how tightly he’d clenched his hand.
This was one conversation he had to shut down and quick smart. It had taken him long enough, to gather up what little remained of his broken heart, and then slowly rebuild his self- esteem. Even now, some four years later, his pride was little more than a rough framework with a bit of weather cladding glued to it.
I have to protect what’s left of me.
If Camille intended to use him as some sort of object of interest, he may as well hand her back the plastic security card right this minute and take his leave. Ryan was done with being used and then discarded.
Like my dreams don’t mean anything.
He wanted nothing more than to leave Bachelors on the Beach in the sands of the past.