Romance novel.

[anamk]

Okay, I have made some changes. See if it make sense now.

The car sped down the busy roads of Rose Valley, fast and smooth. The chauffeur looked in the interior mirror every now and them to catch his employer’s expressions or an indication to turn back. Ryan Carter rolled the windows down, avoiding the gaze of the blonde sitting beside him. Grey shades clouded the sky, hiding the stars, making the atmosphere ominous.

“Wear a smile on that face of yours, honey. We are going to a party, not a funeral.”

Ryan turned from the window, watching Catherine apply her mascara, mouth half-open, her eyes on a compact mirror that made her face looked smaller.

“We are going to a party not a beauty contest.” He remarked and Catherine looked at him with moist eyes.

“Oh, don’t do that. You will need to paint more make up on that pretty face, honey.” He smirked, looking away from her.

At twenty-seven, he was already up to his ears in money, a rich businessman whose whims were reality. He didn’t have to hear his sex partner whining and shedding tears before him. He was past the age of compassion, and comforting women was the last thing he would ever do.

Ryan Carter. People feared that name. They despised him for being what he was. He had it the easy way. His parents left him a fortune and he intended to extend the boundaries of his wealth from all proportions even if that earned him the hatred of others.

He looked at the glittering laces of little lights around West Falls. It was New Year’s Eve, and they were invited by the town residents to rejoice with them. He owned a good part of the area, and had saved many people’s jobs by overtaking the companies in liquidation. But these people didn’t like him. He was sure of that, and he didn’t blame them.

The car came to a stop and the chauffeur, his face expressionless, clasped the door open for his employer. Ryan paused for a long second before stepping down and taking in the fresh air, lingering outside his Maybach 62. The other door opened, and the crystal skin woman emerged, barely balancing on her impossibly high heels.

“Forgotten your manners, have you?” Catherine smiled awkwardly and stumbled over to Ryan. He was an ill-mannered man, indeed-- very proud and hard-headed-- wherever those traits had come from. He shrugged, not glancing once at the slender body, and then walked to the ancient building.

It had once been a museum, but the historic building was now replaced, painted, and refurnished for the New Year’s Eve celebration. The residents had shown their gratitude by inviting him to the party, but he knew well why he had received the invitation card in the first place.

It was his money that was spent ruthlessly and thoughtlessly by his escort of the night so that she could gather all her friends and show off. He knew her well enough to understand her intentions. Catherine pulled her mini-skirt down, locking elbows with Ryan.

“What? No touching?” Catherine asked, pulled back when Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Last night you didn’t mind so much.” She laughed, too loudly, but Ryan ignored her and kept walking but then turned around and replied aloud.

“Last night you weren’t this cranky. Now stop moaning.”

Catherine looked at him, gobsmacked, when people turned around and eyed her disgustedly.

Ryan smirked and turned back toward the building. It wasn’t bad at all. It was the bustling of people that scared him. People surged through the door muttering, giggling, and laughing. Would he need to meet them all? He hoped not. He was just keeping the tradition of joining in the New Year’s Celebration, like his father did every year. He had no intention whatsoever to even speak with these people. He hardly knew them anymore.

He slipped his hand in the pants of his tuxedo, clearing his clouded mind from the thoughts of that one girl that he met years ago. Those hazel eyes stared back at him, mocking him, each time he was alone. He gritted his teeth. Walking up the stairs, Ryan tried to remember the last time he had come here.
It had been years since he had last come to Rose Valley-- a small town in the north of London. He had completely abandoned it for her. He had deserted everything just so he could find her. But, his one mistake had ruined everything.

Ryan paused. One of the guards at the door stepped forward, his hands crossed-- his brow raised as he looked at Ryan. At six-feet-two, he felt very small compared to the big, muscled guard that looked down at him. Ryan looked him blankly in the eye. He was bored, and he had no clue what was expected of him at the door of an ancient building. He imitated the guard and raised his brow. Confused, the guard turned back and looked at his colleague, who merely shrugged.

“Oh, where is it?” Catherine scowled, looking through the stuff in her purse.

The guard turned his attention to the lady and then down to her exposed legs. Ryan shook his head and took a step forward to the door, peering inside to find something- anything interesting. A plump, uniformed man walked to the glass doors and opened them, looking straight into Ryan’s face.

Startled, he turned to the lady behind him that was now lost inside her purse. “Oh, I’m so sorry that we have kept you waiting.” The guard cursed under his breath, looking at the trainee guards. “This is Ryan Carter. He owns the building. How dare you stop him?” Then, turning back to Ryan, he apologized for his trainee’s mistake. “This will never happen again,” he said in an apologetic tone, looking at Ryan’s blank face.

“Yeah, make sure of that,” Catherine said as she threw her purse under her arm and walked past the repentant guard who was holding the door open for them.

[Falls Apart]

Okay, you're in danger of verging into cliched territory here--young, attractive, wealthy playboy dissatisfied with the shallowness of his life, running from past hurts, current girlfriend is a materialistic blonde bitch, etc., but it has potential. You need to tighten some parts up, but on the whole, it's good. My thoughts in red:

The car travelled speedily, yet smoothly, onsped down the busy roads of Rose Valley, fast and smooth. Ryan Carter rolled the windows down stared out the window, trying to avoid avoiding the gaze of the spoiled richblonde sitting beside himthat could not get enough of her make-up. He clenched his hands together, teeth. turning his slightly oval face to look outside. The grey shades clouded the sky.

“Wear a smile on that face of yours, honey. We're going to a party, not a funeral.” who's saying this?

Ryan turned from the window, watched Catherine apply her mascara, mouth half-open, her eyes on a compact mirror. Always staring at herself.

He didn’t belong here, he wasn’t happy. He hadn’t laughed in agesand. His jaw hurt when he tried. Granted, he was twenty-seven years old-- At twenty-seven, he was already up to his ears in money, a rich businessman whose whims were reality. However, his money couldn’t buy him the most important thing in his life—love. But money couldn't buy back that feeling that once existed, that part of him that someone stole.

Staring at his companion for the night,Ryan sighed as he looked at Catherine, his companion for the night. What had he gotten himself into? He didn’t have to come to her stupid party. All he had to do was to say no or to scream at her--kick her out of his house.

But he didn’t have the energyto do that. He was devastated with himself drained. He shook his head and looked at the glittering laces laces? around West Falls. It was New Year’s Eve, and they had been invited by the town residents to celebrate with them. He owned a good part of the area, and had saved many people’s jobs by overtaking the companies in liquidation. But these people didn’t like him. He was sure of that, and he didn’t blame them.

The car came to a stop, and the chauffeur, his face expressionless, opened the door for his employer. Ryan paused for a long second before stepping down and taking in the fresh air, lingering outside his Maybach 62. The other door opened, and the blonde emerged, barely balancing on her impossibly high heels.

“Forgotten your manners, have you?” Catherine smiled awkwardly and stumbled over to to Ryan. He was an ill-mannered man, indeed-- very proud and hard-headed-- wherever these traits had come from. He shrugged as she that hopped from one foot to another can she do this in heels? why is she hopping in the first place?. With a sigh he walked to the ancient building.

It had once been a museum, but the historic building had been replaced, painted, and refurnished for the New Year’s Eve celebration. The residents had shown their gratitude by inviting him to the party. But he knew well why he had received the invitation card in the first place. It was his money that was spent ruthlessly and thoughtlessly by his escort of the night so that she could gather all her friends and show off. He knew her well enough to understand her intentions. The blonde you're overusing "the blonde" pulled her mini-skirt down, then stood steadily isn't she already standing?, locking elbows with Ryan.

“What? No touching?” Catherine asked, pulling back when Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Last night you didn’t mind so much.” She was laughed sadistically aloud laughed, too loudly, but Ryan ignored her andkept walking. The building wasn’t bad at all. It was all the bustling of peoplethat scared him. is scared really the right word here? unless he's claustrophobic, maybe they make him anxious? People surged through the door muttering, giggling, and laughing. Why couldn’t he be that happy? does he really think of them as happy? is there any part of him that thinks they might be superficial? he's very critical of his own lifestyle, why not theirs?

He slipped his hand in the pants of his tuxedo, clearing his clouded mind from the thoughts of that one girl. Those hazel eyes that had stared back at him as if smiling at him, mocking him. He gritted his teeth. Walking up the stairs, which led to the well-lit West Falls building, Ryan tried to remember the last time he had come here. It had been many years since he had last come to Rose Valley-- a small town in the north of London. He had completely abandoned it for her. He had deserted everything just so he could find her. But, alas, his one mistake had ruined everything.

Some final thoughts--mention the chauffer earlier; I was very confused as to who was driving. Also, your POV character needs to stop waxing poetic about his own misery. Demonstrate his misery; stop reiterating it. Also, some of the descriptions/dialogue come off as a bit stilted. On the whole, it needs some work, but it's good Good luck, and I hope this helps.

EDIT: Also, do you mean that he slipped his hand in the pants of his tuxedo, or the pocket?