More Than a Fling?

by Joss Wood

  What. The. Hell?

  Noooooooo...

  ‘You’ve cut your hair,’ Ally whimpered, her hand swiping her mouth in horror.

  Ross ran a hand over his short, spiky head. ‘Yeah, I thought I should tidy it up before the filming started.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to talk to me about it?’ Ally demanded, completely and utterly horrified.

  ‘I’ve been making decisions about my hair for a while now—without your input,’ Ross replied, his voice hard.

  She was too appalled to hear the warning note in it.

  Dammit, sod it... He’d cut his hair. There went the juxtaposition between her bad-boy CEO and the sophisticated Bellechier clothes. How would it affect the campaign? Would it hurt it? Would it fail? Would she fail? Dammit, Bennett!

  ‘Yeah but since you sold your face, your hair, to Bellechier—to me!—then I should’ve been consulted!’ Ally twisted her hands together. ‘What were you thinking?’

  Unaware that the six other people in the room were watching their argument with interest and amusement, Ally jumped when Ross grabbed her arm and hauled her across to the door that led to a deck outside. He pushed her through the open door, slammed it shut behind her and walked her down the deck so that they were out of earshot of the rest of the crew.

  Ally wrenched her arm from his grasp. ‘What are you doing? I’m not some cave girl you can drag around!’

  ‘And I’m not someone you get to shout at. And let me tell you something else, Jones: I never sold a damn thing to you or Bellechier! So don’t you ever speak to me like that again!’ he said in a low, frustrated voice.

  Ally felt the burn in her gut, the all too familiar pain beneath her ribs. ‘Well, you shouldn’t have cut your hair!’

  ‘It’s my bloody hair!’

  Ross linked his hands behind his head and sucked in a deep breath, obviously looking for control. His eyes sparked dangerously.

  ‘You need to start treating me like an intelligent human being—and that includes you not sending me a dozen e-mails about the same blasted thing!—or we call it quits right now. I do run a multi-frickin’-mega-million-dollar company, you know, and I do not need your constant memos and reminders! It’s about time you and everyone else realised that I’m pretty damn good at organising my life!’

  Jeez! Where had that come from?

  ‘I’m just trying to make sure everything runs smoothly,’ Ally protested, her temper fizzing. ‘This is my job, Ross!’

  ‘Well, this is my life, so butt the hell out!’

  Okay, this was the first time she’d seen him angry— really angry. Suddenly Ally wasn’t even sure what they were arguing about.

  ‘You’re micro-managing me and you’re driving me nuts. Your staff must be on Prozac, dealing with you every day. You’d drive a monk to meth, Alyssa!’

  That was harsh and cruel. And very unlike the Ross she’d thought she—kind of—knew.

  Norm, the creative director for the ad agency, stuck his head around the corner of the deck and shuffled his feet. ‘Sorry to interrupt your screaming match, but if we don’t leave within the next five minutes we’re going to run out of light...and time.’

  Ross nodded tersely. He gestured to Ally and in a hard, cold voice asked, ‘Do you need her there?’

  Norm looked uncomfortable and Ally sighed.

  ‘Why?’ he asked.

  ‘Because I want to get this done, and it would go a hell of a lot quicker and easier if she wasn’t bitching at me.’

  ‘That’s so unfair,’ Ally said in a low voice, hurt twisting her stomach and piercing her heart.

  Ross ignored her. ‘Well?’ he demanded, still looking at Norm.

  ‘We could do it without her,’ Norm said, with an apologetic look in her direction. He held up his hand in protest. ‘This time.’

  ‘Stay here,’ Ross commanded her.

  Ally really, really didn’t respond well to orders. She slapped her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. ‘And if I don’t?’

  ‘Alyssa, just give me a goddamn break...please?’ He looked at Norm. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Norm. Creative Director.’

  ‘Ok...Norm and I are going to get this done and we’ll talk later. Maybe.’

  Ross brushed past Ally and stormed back into the room, and Ally surmised that he must have issued a quick command because everyone in the room started moving, gathering clothes and equipment as they went.

  Norm cleared his throat and Ally turned to look at him, her lips pursed.

  ‘Sorry, Ally.’

  ‘Not your fault, hon.’ Ally shoved her hands into her hair. ‘I guess I lit the fuse to that particular powder keg.’

  Norm placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘We’ll get it done, Al.’

  Ally nodded and dredged up a smile. ‘You always do. Thanks, Norm.’

  Ross poked his head around the door, glared at them both and snapped out his parting shot. ‘I’m leaving. You coming or staying, Norm?’

  * * *

  Hours later Ally stood on the wooden deck of the apartment, her arms on the railing, a half-empty wine glass dangling from her fingers, and stared out at the restless Atlantic ocean. Ross’s words bounced around her head. Was she really such a micro-manager? Did her staff need Prozac? Would she drive a monk to meth?

  Was she really that bad? In her quest for perfection, her desire to succeed, did she treat people like fools? Lord, she hoped not. But she suspected—knew—that she did sometimes. She could be hell on her staff—was definitely hell on relationships. But Ross was the first person to call her on it...the first man to point out her faults and to tell her that her behaviour was unacceptable.

  She didn’t like it but she had to respect it. Ally frowned into the darkness. She really didn’t like the fact that he’d kept her off the shoot. She wouldn’t allow that to happen again.

  ‘Thinking of ways to off me?’

  Ally jumped and whirled round, her heart threatening to climb out of her chest and belt off into the darkness. Ross stood on the other side of the deck, his shoulder on the glass and wood door that led back into the apartment.

  ‘How did you get in?’ she asked, placing her wine glass on the low coffee table beneath her.

  ‘Norm gave me his key. He said to tell you that I was on my best behaviour and that the shoot went well.’ Ross held up his hand as she looked around for her mobile. ‘He also said to tell you that he’s switching his phone off and that he’ll fill you in tomorrow.’ Ross pulled the pad of his thumb along his chin. ‘So, about this afternoon...’

  Ally stared out to sea, every muscle in her body taut with tension. ‘I’m sorry I shouted at you. I’m especially sorry that I did it front of the entire crew.’

  Ross was quiet for so long that Ally eventually made herself look at him. Even in the low light she could see the upward tilt of his lips.

  ‘Bet that hurt,’ he said finally.

  She knew that she had more to say and fumbled for the words. ‘I was wrong, but you shouldn’t have banned me from the shoot.’

  Ross nodded and Ally was surprised.

  ‘You’re right, that was a low blow. As were the Prozac and meth-addicted monk comments.’ Ross rubbed the back of his neck as he walked across the deck in her direction. He gripped the railing with his hands and dropped his head back to look at the stars.

  ‘What do you know about my dad?’

  The question came out of the blue and Ally had
to take a moment to catch up. ‘Uh...thinking... Not much, actually. He’s never spoken publicly about how and why he built Bennett Inc., has he?’

  ‘That’s my dad; for an owner of a PR company he’s not great at communicating.’ Ross took a sip of wine from her glass on the table and gestured for her to sit down on the square ottoman that ran the length of the deck. Ally dropped down, crossed her legs and rested her elbows on her knees.

  Ross sat down next to her, leaned his back against the railing and casually draped his forearm across her knee.

  ‘He grew up poor—very poor—and he vowed that his children would want for nothing. Ever.’ Ross’s voice was as deep and dark as the night. ‘We didn’t. My sister and I had the latest toys, the latest clothes, the best education. What we didn’t have was his time, his attention, his input. We never felt loved, and we always felt like we were competing with Bennett Inc. We always lost.’

  Ally knew that platitudes and sympathy would be unwelcome so she gave him silence and waited until he spoke again.

  ‘I thought that by going to work with him at Bennett Inc., by sharing his work, we would have something we could build a relationship on. I never banked on how much I would hate it.’

  ‘Why did you hate it so much?’

  Ross let out a long breath. ‘It’s soulless. So many rules, written and unwritten, and none of them serve any purpose. The corporate world is about the bottom line, and people are a casualty of getting those profits. It was sucking the life out of me—and, trust me, I had it easy. My father made sure of that. When I felt like I couldn’t breathe any more I bailed and my father didn’t take it well.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He cut me off. From everything.’ Ross’s hand gripped her knee. ‘A lot of people within the company and probably within our extended family think that our rift is about the fact that he cut me off from my trust fund, from the family money... Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jonas still thought that too.’

  ‘It wasn’t about the money because you’re not about the money,’ Ally murmured.

  A look of quick appreciation flashed across his face. ‘I’m really not. Money is a tool, not a goal. I didn’t want to work in a corporate environment. I wanted to do something creative—be someone other than Jonas Bennett’s son. Jonas couldn’t understand that—that Bennett Inc. was his baby, not mine.’

  Ross finished her wine and Ally let him. He needed it a lot more than she did at the moment.

  ‘This afternoon I found out that he’s been trying to buy RBM to leverage me into coming back to run Bennett Inc. We had an argument which set my teeth on edge. And then I came here and you...’

  ‘Laid into you about your hair.’ Ally shook her head. ‘I might have said it badly but I’m still pretty unhappy that you cut it, Bennett.’

  ‘Because you had a look in mind for the ads?’

  Ally put her hand on his jaw and pushed his cheek so that he was facing her. ‘No, because long hair suited you. Because that was the way you chose to wear it. Because you liked it. I never wanted to make you into something you aren’t, Ross. You’re a long haired, stubble-toting bad-ass CEO and that’s who I wanted to show the world. But dressed up in pretty clothes.’

  Ross stared at her for a long minute.

  Ally dropped her hand and smiled. ‘No worries. The face is still good. I texted the stylist to make sure that it was as messy as possible on the shoot. But keep the stubble, okay?’

  Ross rubbed his jaw. ‘No worries about that. I’ve never had a problem growing a beard.’

  Ally moved so that she sat next to him, her shoulder against his upper arm. Ross put his arm around her and pulled her in close. ‘Ross...’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘Maybe later, when you’re feeling calmer, you might look beyond your father’s words and try and see what he could be saying by his attempts to get you back to Bennett Inc. Maybe entrusting you with the thing he loves most—his company—is his way of telling you that he loves you, of making amends. Maybe he just doesn’t know how else to say it...’

  ‘But I don’t want it.’

  ‘And maybe he would accept that if you acknowledged his gift, his trust in you, before you said no. Maybe that’s all you need to do.’

  Ross didn’t say anything and Ally eventually felt his kiss on her temple.

  ‘Maybe.’

  Ally smiled as his big hand held her head against his chest and they listened to the waves crashing on the beach.

  * * *

  They were doing a photo shoot in Ross’s office, and perfectionist Ally winced at the messy desk, the basketball hoop on the wall and the battered leather couch that Ross was currently lying on, laptop on his knees, totally at ease as the photographer moved in front of him and the camera whirled.

  ‘Cross your legs at the ankles,’ Bert told him, dropping to one knee and twisting his body to get the shot he needed.

  Ross, dressed in charcoal and white striped pants and a matching waistcoat, which the stylist had placed over a snow-white T-shirt that hugged his shoulders and bicep, looked delicious.

  Ally really, really wished he hadn’t cut his hair.

  Everyone in the room except the photographer turned at a knock on the door.

  ‘I don’t want to be disturbed!’ Bert shouted.

  ‘Dude—my office, my rules,’ Ross said in a calm voice that did not encourage argument. He looked over his shoulder as Eli pushed his way past Ally to look down at Ross.

  Ally noticed that Eli didn’t seem remotely concerned or surprised that Ross was doing a shoot.

  ‘We’ve hit a major snag with the Japanese build.’ He bounced on his feet, worry rolling off him in waves. ‘The interface isn’t talking to the hardware.’

  Ross twisted his lips. ‘Okay.’

  ‘It’s not okay! They are flying in tomorrow afternoon for the demo and we have nothing to demo!’

  Ross swung his feet off the couch and sat up. He gave Eli a small smile. ‘How long have you and your team been up?’

  Eli tapped his fingers against his thigh. ‘We didn’t sleep last night.’

  ‘Yeah—there’s your problem. Tell the boys to go home, get something to eat—’

  ‘But the build...’

  ‘E, you’re exhausted. You couldn’t work out square roots at the moment. Come back fresh early tomorrow morning and start again.’ Ross lifted a powerful shoulder. ‘I guarantee that you’ll find the solution in ten minutes in the morning.’

  ‘Jeez, Ross...I don’t know. Don’t you want to come and talk it through with us?’

  ‘No, I pay you and your team a wicked salary to get it right; that’s your job, not mine. Go home. I don’t want to see any of you here until you’ve had a solid eight.’ Ross lifted his eyebrows and held Eli’s eyes.

  Ally saw Eli’s nod and caught the quick look of relief on Ross’s face. He cared about his staff and he managed them well.

  ‘What happens if they don’t solve the problem?’ Ally asked him when Eli had left the room.

  Ross looked up at her. ‘They will. They are the best there is; they’re just tired and stressed—and who can be effective when they are living like that?’

  Ally knew that his raised eyebrows were for her and she wiggled under his direct look. She liked the way he managed his people—giving them space to do their jobs, support when they needed it—and, as she’d witnessed earlier, when she’d walked in on Ross giving his interns a rollicking, he knew how
to wield the big stick as well.

  He actually managed his people while she, she suspected, either hovered until the task was perfected or simply removed the project and did it herself.

  Not healthy, she thought, or clever.

  Ross, ignoring the photographer’s yelp of protest, stood up and moved towards her to hold her face in his hands. He bent his knees so that his eyes were level with hers.

  ‘You’ve got to learn to trust your people, Jones,’ he said, before dropping a quick kiss on her mouth.

  ‘Can we get back to work now?’ Bert complained.

  Kate, the pink-haired girl, popped her head into his office. ‘Ross, I need a minute.’

  Ross grinned as Bert groaned and waved her in. He took the next set of clothes that the stylist held out to him and jerked his head towards the bathroom. ‘I’ll leave the door open a crack so that you can talk.’

  Kate sent Ally a naughty grin. ‘Damn, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of you naked.’

  Ally gave Ross a heated look before laughing. ‘Trust me, it’s as good as you imagine.’

  * * *

  Ally and Ross sat on the beach below his house, a bottle of red pushed into the soft sand, their backs against a large piece of driftwood. It was that magical hour between afternoon and nightfall...

  ‘I don’t like the word dusk—it doesn’t capture the essence, the magic of this time of day,’ Ally stated quietly. ‘The air is so still and fragrant, the waves are almost lazy, the sun is sinking slowly...’

  Ross leaned forward and twisted his torso to send her a quizzical look. ‘Right...who are you and what have you done with logical and practical Ally?’

  Ally swatted his shoulder with the back of her hand. ‘Funny man. I wasn’t always buttoned down and repressed, you know.’

  ‘I know that... Anyone who is as passionate as you in the sack is at heart warm and emotional.’