Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
They discussed their plans later that evening over a dinner of the best steak Ryan had ever tasted. How he would ever go back to living at the apartment in East Orange and suffering Liam’s less than stellar cooking, he couldn’t imagine. These days with Camille would long remain in his memories.
Ryan offered up possible ideas as to where he and Camille might go outside of the city, but his suggestions were hampered by her refusal to travel too far. He didn’t quite buy her reason that she had to be available to return to New York in case the people from fashion week needed to get in touch.
There is a thing called email.
He toyed with challenging her thoughts but decided against it. His job was to help Camille fill her creative well and in doing so come up with a kickass runway show. Something that would put her front and center of the fashion world. If that happened, then he would consider his time working with her to have been a success.
“We could head over to Fire Island for a couple of days,” he said.
Last year he’d accompanied Liam on a magazine photoshoot to the island and been captivated by its beauty. He’d always wanted to go back.
“Where’s that?”
“It’s an island a bit to the east of here. It’s still in New York state. Fire Island has long sandy beaches and the southern parts are quiet and away from the summer crowds,” said Ryan. He hoped Camille might feel more comfortable somewhere private. “We could take my car. But if you have access to a better motor vehicle, we could share the driving.”
His car was so far from being in showroom condition, he wasn’t even sure if it could make the eighty odd mile journey from East Orange to the island. Not to mention getting back home. But right now he was tossing up as many suggestions as he could, in the hope that Camille would grab at one of them.
“I couldn’t drive a car even if I owned one,” said Camille, her gaze fixed on her dinner plate. “When I’m in Paris I have use of the Royal family car service. In New York I either take a taxi or call up one of the Royal Resorts drivers.”
Ryan sensed she was uncomfortable making that small private confession. She had been born into privilege and was used to that life.
He for one wasn’t going to judge her, but he still couldn’t imagine not being able to drive. The freedom of getting behind the wheel and going where ever he wanted was something Ryan had long taken for granted. He could of course see the appeal in having someone else on standby ready to take you everywhere. At least it would mean never having to find a rare as hens teeth carpark in Manhattan.
“Just how far from here is it to Fire Island?” she asked.
“A couple of hours in heavy traffic. Not that far.”
“And we could take your car?”
Last winter he’d had an unfortunate run in with a snow plough, and his light blue 2008 Toyota Corolla had come off second best. The repairs he’d managed to afford to have done thus far, had at least made it roadworthy, but there were still a few dents in the panel on the rear driver’s side. And when he did finally get the motor to kick over, it usually made a horrible noise for the first few minutes.
Camille came from money, serious money. Billions type money. What would she think of his bomb of a car?
She’ll take one look at it and think I’m a total loser.
Better to suck it up now than have her see his beaten up wreck and refuse to get in it. Or worse, have it break down somewhere on the road. “My car isn’t exactly reliable, so maybe we would be better hiring something,” he suggested.
The self-confidence he’d been feeling only a minute or two ago had taken a serious dive.
A weekend out of the city was meant to help with Camille’s creative process, not have her wondering if she was going to make it home alive.
“I tell you what, Ryan. I’ll organize the transport, and you can look for somewhere for us to stay. My company will be paying, so pick something nice.”
He caught the meaning in her words. Something nice meant something a bit outside of his normal price bracket.
“Deal. I’ll hop on the booking sites after we finish eating and let you know what I find.”
She gave him an odd look, one which had Ryan setting down his knife and fork. “What is that particular look for?”
“How about I give you the number for Bryce’s executive assistant, Sheila, and she can look into some places for us.”
“You don’t trust me?” said Ryan, his self-confidence now threatening to go into free fall.
“This isn’t about you Ryan. And yes, I do trust you. If I didn’t you wouldn’t be here. This is about me being part of an international family of billionaires. Which means I can’t just use any old booking sites when I travel.”
The protest on Ryan’s lips halted as she held up a hand.
“Security is a real thing for us, Ryan. We have our own protection detail. If I went and stayed at some random place without it having been vetted by the security team, the head of Royal Security would be on the phone to his people, and the next thing you know they would be kicking down the front door.”
These people had a security team. Which probably meant that at some point before he’d even started this job, a former special forces agent had been digging around in his personal background.
I bet they laughed themselves sick when they found out I’d been on a reality dating show.
Camille rose from the table, and as she picked up her empty plate, she added, “Please Ryan, just call Sheila, and let her help you with the plan to get out of town. I really do need a change of scenery.”
This was her world, and it had its own rules. But the more time he spent with Camille, the more distant that world seemed to be from his.
“Ok, I’ll call Sheila.”
The second Ryan had disappeared upstairs to call Sheila, Camille let out a sigh of relief. She hadn’t wanted to offend him by refusing to go with him in his car, but there was no way she was going to go anywhere outside of Manhattan other than in a brand new automobile.
What happens if we break down, aren’t there lots of wild animals in this country?
At the recent family wedding in the Caribbean, she’d met Rachel, her cousin Matthew’s girlfriend, and been horrified to learn that the poor girl had had a recent encounter with a group of black bears while out walking in Aspen.
If I met a real bear, I’d just drop dead right in front of it.
Camille wasn’t certain if Fire Island even had bears, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Her experience with animals started and ended with her family’s pet dog.
The most dangerous creature she’d had to deal with in New York so far had been an aggressive racoon which had fought for her takeout sandwich as she sat on the grass in nearby Chelsea Park last summer. It was the one and only time she’d attempted to eat en plein air , and after that experience she hadn’t tried it again.
At least I will have Ryan for protection if any furry animals decide they want to take a bite out of me.