Playing for Rya

48. Guns and Roses

Song: Photograph by Ed Sheeran: Cover by Madilyn Bailey and Peter Holland.

It was late by the time Rya got back to Derek's apartment. She'd said goodnight to Leyland who had followed her up to Derek's floor. He was the new head of her security team and the man who had taken over from Paul and whose duty it now was to remain at her side.

It had been three weeks since she'd moved in with Derek and two since Beverly had been discharged from the hospital. Most of the media blitz had died down, and except for the occasional Paparazzi here and there, she was once again free to move about unaccosted.

The front gates of La Cura was also now a safe zone through which she could pass once again, and it was as though everything was back to normal.

But everything had changed. She now had a security team comprised of five men who lurked somewhere around her at all times, led by Leyland who drove her everywhere and was the most visible of all five men, the one who stayed by her side or close by when she was within the hospital premises.

For the most part, the work, and the gossip within the hospital remained the same. But she had decided on a course of action before she'd resumed work; she would ignore the secret glances and hushed whispers and not talk about her relationship with Derek.

Luckily, things with Will were not as awkward as she'd expected it to be when she eventually ran into him. He appeared to be okay with where they stood, happy even if she wasn't mistaken. And though his lighthearted teasing had taken her aback, she'd been relieved to find that he wasn't the type to hold a grudge.

"Be happy," he'd told her with a wink and a smile, and she'd teared up at that.

However, his attitude was a far cry from the rest of the staff, and it amazed her how interesting people found her now. She had quickly figured out that besides Kris and the boys, there were two categories of people amongst her fellow staff and colleagues; there were those who clearly despised her for her newfound notoriety and those who flocked to her, wanting to be associated with her.

She knew none of them well enough for their minds to be made up about her. Or for them to see the need to fall in either category. She missed the days when she was just an inconsequential, low-level staff, the days when she knew for sure that the people she got along with at work liked her for who she was, and not for the 'clout' that came with associating with her.

So far, she'd stuck to her plan, remaining tight-lipped, but polite, and treating everyone the same. Both her and Kris had resumed work the day after she'd moved in with Derek, and she had since fallen into the habit of picking her friends up and dropping them off, whenever they were all on the same shift. For his part, and to his credit, Leland had quickly gotten used to the loud conversations she and her friends usually had when they were all together, and they seemed to have gotten used to his quiet, stoic presence which appeared to be a trait that all of Derek's men had.

The lights on the terrace beyond the living room were lit, and she could see through the tall clear glass wall of the equally lit living room, that dinner places had been set. It was eight thirty-five at night, and no doubt Derek was waiting for her to get home before they ate. It was a routine they had both fallen into, and so far, no amount of persuasion on Rya's part could convince Versaille, his chef, to go home before either she, or Derek, or both of them, had concluded dinner.

She found him busy in the large kitchen with two of his staff, and he noticed her the moment she entered the doorway.

"Miss Cassidy," he said, "welcome home. Dinner is set and ready when you are."

"Thank you Versaille," she responded with a smile, "I'll just take a quick shower, and we'll eat."

"Of course." The French man nodded at her as she left.