More Than a Fling?

by Joss Wood

Somehow Ross had managed to see past workaholic Ally to the person she’d used to be. Ally wasn’t sure whether that scared the crap out of her or made her feel warm and fuzzy.

  Both, probably.

  ‘I have reasons for being practical and logical, Ross,’ she stated quietly.

  ‘Ready to tell me what they are?’

  Was she? She didn’t know if ‘ready’ was the right word. She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready to expose herself like that. It was as scary as hell, but she wanted to crack the door open, to let him in...

  Maybe just to prove to herself that she could.

  ‘My father was a stoic, practical, unemotional man who didn’t know how to raise or relate to a little girl. He loved me—I know he did—he just didn’t get me. I was an emotional child—either wildly happy or crazy sad. I’d weep for days if I found a dead bird or laugh like crazy at a book or a comic or a TV show.’ Ally rolled the stem of her wine glass between her hands. ‘He couldn’t deal with either. He wanted...needed peace. He had a hugely stressful job and couldn’t cope with much more at the end of the day—couldn’t cope with me.’

  Ally heard Ross swear, knew he was thinking badly of her father and needed to protect him.

  ‘As I said—he loved me, Ross. He just didn’t know how to handle me. As I grew up I realised that every time I showed emotion he retreated, but when I managed to control those emotions he could engage with me. I wanted his attention so I controlled my emotions. By the time I was thirteen I’d learnt to look outside of what I was feeling to the logic and practicality of the situation.’ Ally smiled quickly. ‘I was one hell of a debater.’

  ‘I just bet you were,’ Ross muttered, refilling their wine glasses.

  ‘He died on a beach in Phuket. I was with him,’ Ally said in a low, calm voice. ‘Justin and Sabine had bullied him into taking a holiday—sound familiar?—and I came out of the water and he was dead.’ Her breathing became shallow and spots danced behind her eyes.

  ‘I’ve got you,’ Ross said in his deep, stable voice.

  Ally felt his arm around her, anchoring her, and pulled in a couple of deep breaths. ‘I’ve never told anyone this, so just hang on while I blurt it all out. There was a lot of confusion. I think I screamed and people ran to us. Somebody tried to give him CPR but I kept getting in their way, yelling at him to wake up. The police came. I remember lots of people in uniform. There was the language problem—it was Thailand—and I remember going to a police station and nobody quite knowing what to do with me for the longest time.’

  Ross urged her to sip her wine, which she did, and she felt the tart liquid slide down her dry throat.

  ‘Eventually they allowed me to go back to my hotel room with a young Thai policewoman to look after me. She didn’t speak any English so she watched Thai TV and ordered Room Service. Someone came from the British Embassy and asked me a million questions, some of which I managed to answer. I was told to hang on, that they were working on what to do with me.’

  Ally shuddered.

  ‘I was so scared, Ross. I was in a foreign country in a hotel room and I’d just lost my dad. I thought that I’d end up in some Thai orphanage. After two or three days the fear just got to me and I think I shut down. When the man from the embassy came back I couldn’t talk to him—couldn’t speak at all. My vocal cords were literally frozen in fear. I was too scared to eat, drink, bathe.’

  Ally yelped as Ross grabbed her and yanked her onto his lap, holding her against him and burying his face in her hair. She patted his arm in an attempt to reassure him. Or was it herself? Did it matter?

  ‘I’m not sure how long it took—it felt like years—but then Justin and Sabine came and I could breathe again. I knew that I was safe.’

  Pic crawled up to them and laid his head on Ally’s thigh, whining at her distress. Ally immediately reached out to rub his head.

  After a long time, Ross spoke again. ‘But you’ve never allowed yourself to really be part of their family. They love you, Al, so why not?’

  Ally heard the reassuring thump of his heart and sifted through the words, picking up and discarding phrases until she found the right ones. ‘When the man from the embassy came to tell me that Justin and Sabine were on their way he suggested that I not give them any trouble. I shouldn’t make waves. He said that they could return me to the system at any point.’

  Ross growled. ‘Bastard.’

  Ally shrugged. ‘He just reinforced what I’d already been taught. I didn’t want to risk losing them. I’d already lost my mother and father and I didn’t think I could—don’t think I can—lose someone else I love. Anyway, I’d already learnt to shut down my emotions with my dad so I thought that was what they expected too. It was safer to be disconnected, Ross—it still is.’

  ‘But it’s not healthy.’

  ‘That’s a matter of perspective,’ Ally replied. ‘You’ve called me a basket case before, Ross, but you just never quite realised quite how well I fit the bill.’

  Ross’s arms tightened around her but he ignored her comment. ‘So why do you work so hard?’

  ‘Partly to repay the Bellechiers for taking me into their home. Partly because it keeps me from thinking. Mostly because it’s the one place where the world approves of logic and practicality, where emotion has no place.’ Ally tipped her head back to look up into his gorgeous face. ‘I’ve never told anyone else this, Ross.’

  ‘Why did you tell me?’

  Ally shrugged. ‘I’m not actually sure.’

  ‘Oh, Alyssa.’ Ross rubbed his chin in her hair. ‘I think the truth is that you want to reconnect with your emotions, with yourself, and this might be the first step. But you should be doing this with your family, Al, with Sabine.’

  And not with me... Ally heard the unspoken words and she knew that they were truth personified. He was temporary—a lovely, lovely diversion—but he wasn’t long term. She would be going back to Geneva and he would be staying in Cape Town and in time he would be a wonderful memory.

  She didn’t want him to be a memory but how could he be anything else? She was so not his type. And there was the little hurdle of there being all of Africa and a fair chunk of Europe between them.

  ‘I think you deserve more from life than the half-life you are living. I think you are too smart, have too much to give, to waste your life at work. You have too much passion inside to spend it alone.’ Ross rubbed his hand across her back. ‘Start with Sabine, Al, be brave and let her in.’

  ELEVEN

  The following morning Ally was sitting on Ross’s veranda, working on her laptop, while Ross surfed on the beach below the house. She wasn’t making a lot of progress because she kept thinking of their conversation the night before and how Ross had made sweet, tender, passionate love to her afterwards.

  She didn’t have much time left in this country; the shooting for the commercials was finished and the studio shots were scheduled for tomorrow and the next day. She was due to fly back to Geneva on Thursday and then this...this thing with Ross would come to a slamming stop. Just the thought of leaving made her want to dry heave.

  When had he become so important? When had she lost her grip on her emotions and her distance? The first time she’d met him? The second? From the moment they met he’d challenged all her preconceptions about her career, her life. He made her think and, worse, he made her dream.

  Was he right? she asked herself, lifting her cup of coffee to her lips. Was she wasting herself, wasting her life, spendi
ng all her time at work, keeping herself closed off and living scared?

  She wanted to live a more balanced life, she admitted. Dammit, she wanted to have a life. But she didn’t want a life that didn’t have Ross in it. She couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t have Ross in it.

  She wasn’t sure what love felt like, what love was, but she’d never felt like this before. Safe and thrilled in equal measure, challenged and accepted at the same time. Ally pushed her hair back from her face and, as always, logic floated to the surface.

  Was she just feeling...attached to Ross because he was the first to give her a taste of what she was missing from her life: fun, a man, passion...fun? Was she projecting her feelings on him because he’d breached her defences? Was she feeling affection because the thought of throwing herself back into dating made her want to break out in hives?

  Ally dug deep, thought of going back to Geneva, and her heart belted away into the deepest, darkest corner of her ribcage. She couldn’t imagine not talking to him, not making love to him, not having him in her life.

  Maybe this psychotic, thrilling, heart-thumping feeling in her stomach and heart and throat was love. It sure as hell was something...

  Ally heard the doorbell ring and frowned. Standing up, she peered over the railing and looked out to sea. Immediately she saw Ross sitting on his board, waiting for a wave. Okay, so she’d answer his door.

  Ally walked back through his lounge, moved a pair of his trainers out of her path—the man left shoes and clothes everywhere—and touched the wooden statue of a monstrous head at the door before yanking the door open.

  Ross’s face in thirty years stared back at her. ‘I’m looking for Ross Bennett. I was given this address.’

  Ally held out her hand. ‘I’m Ally, Ross’s...’

  Ross’s what? Girlfriend? Lover? Temporary fling? Colleague?

  ‘Ross’s friend. Come on in. He’s out surfing but he should be up soon. Would you like some coffee?’

  On the deck, Ross rinsed his board, pulled off his vest and draped it over the railing, then wrapped a towel around his wet board shorts. After rinsing off his feet he slid open the door and walked into the house, looking for sex and food. Or food and sex.

  Either would work.

  ‘Jones? Get off your computer, sweetheart, and let’s make breakfast and fool around.’

  Ross stepped through the doorway to his kitchen and raised his eyebrows as he saw someone sitting at the breakfast bar, Ally on the other side of him. He sighed...company... Dear God in heaven—the company was his father.

  What the hell...? Ross sent Ally an accusing look.

  She lifted her eyebrows and her hands. ‘What? He rang the bell!’

  Ross folded his arms across his chest and asked the only question he could. ‘Jonas, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I was hoping to talk to you...face to face.’

  ‘Why? What can you say to me that we didn’t cover on the phone the other day?’ Ross demanded, feeling the old feelings of disappointment and resentment bubble up. ‘You want me to come back to Bennett Inc. I would rather chew my wrists off. You wasted a trip.’ He sent Ally a cold look. ‘You saw him in—you can see him out. When I get out of the shower, I want him gone.’

  Ross turned around and ran up the stairs to his bedroom and headed straight for the shower. All he’d wanted, he thought as hot water pounded his head, was sex and food.

  Trust his father to kill his appetite for both.

  When he walked out of the bathroom, a towel around his hips, Ally was sitting on the edge of his perfectly made bed—of course she couldn’t leave it in a tangled mess—looking stubborn. Here comes the lecture, he thought.

  ‘I don’t want to hear it,’ he told her, heading for his dressing room and grabbing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

  ‘Tough,’ Ally said as she crossed her legs. ‘He flew out here to talk to you. That took courage and determination and the least you can do is hear him out.’

  ‘It’ll be the same old story.’

  ‘Maybe, but you can’t assume that.’

  Ross pulled on his underwear and jeans, quickly buttoning the fly. After pulling on the T-shirt, he ran his hands through his short hair.

  ‘Why the hell did I cut my hair? He hated my long hair!’

  Ally grinned. ‘You sound like your sixteen-year-old self. Trust me—knowing you, I’m pretty sure you’ll find something to say to annoy him.’ Her smile died and her eyes darkened with pain. ‘A day doesn’t go by when I don’t wish I could see my dad again, Ross, as difficult and reserved as he was. Go and talk to him. Please?’

  He twisted his lips. ‘Dammit, but you are pain in my ass.’

  Ally stood up and kissed his cheek. ‘So you keep telling me. I’ll hang on up here for a while to give you some privacy.’

  * * *

  Ross couldn’t stop staring at Jonas. ‘What the hell do you mean, you’re selling Bennett Inc.?’

  They’d moved to the veranda, where Ross felt he could breathe.

  Jonas sat in one of the plump couches, his coffee on the table in front of him, his eyes on the view. ‘Hell of a place you have here, son.’

  He couldn’t remember when his father had last called him son. Ross, normally the brightest lightbulb in the room, was struggling to keep up. ‘Whoa, back up! You’re selling the company?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Why, for God’s sake? You love Bennett Inc.’

  Jonas slanted him a look that he couldn’t interpret. ‘Well, you don’t want it, and Hope isn’t interested either. What’s the point of carrying on with it? I only built it for the two of you, and neither of you want it, so it can be sold.’

  ‘But...but what are you going to do?’

  He couldn’t imagine his father not working. It was like trying to imagine a rap star without bling.

  ‘Your mother and I are buying a boat and we’re going sailing. Do you know she already got her skipper’s licence?’

  What? The? Fudge?

  ‘Uh...no...’

  Jonas stretched his arms out along the back of the couch and grinned. ‘Last week—the day before we spoke—she told me that, with or without me, she was going sailing. I could either go along or stay. I’m choosing to go.’

  Ross just stared at him, mute with shock.

  ‘I’ll give you the account number and the access codes for the bank account I’ve set up. Then you can bail your mother out when she ends up in a foreign jail for chopping me up with an axe,’ Jonas joked.

  Ross just stared at him. Who was this man who was cracking jokes and looking relaxed? It sure wasn’t the uptight father he remembered.

  ‘Your mother made me choose. The company or her.’

  Go, Mum, Ross thought, as proud as hell of his tiny mother.

  ‘After our last discussion I realised that I’d sacrificed everything important to me—you and your sister, possibly your mother—for a business nobody cares about. It was suddenly too big a price to pay.’

  Holy crap, Ross thought.

  ‘Close your mouth,’ Jonas suggested. ‘There are flies about. And talking about money...’

  ‘I don’t want a damn cent,’ Ross said, pushing the words out between his teeth as Jonas pushed his favourite button.

  ‘Tough!’ Jonas said on a sharkish grin. ‘I’ve reinstated your trust fund and when the sale goes through it’s going to be seriously fat. Use it...don’t use it...give it away. I don’t care.’

&
nbsp; Jonas leaned forward and his face was suddenly serious and...sincere. Ross almost didn’t recognise the expression—had he ever seen sincerity on his father’s face before?

  ‘All I care about is whether you’ll accept my apology for being a...how did your mother put it?...a total dipstick.’

  ‘Uh...’

  Jonas rubbed his hand over his grey hair. ‘I was hoping to avoid this part. Okay, if I have to say it, then... Hell.’ He pulled out a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. ‘Your mother made me write it down.’ He opened up the paper and extended his arm to squint at the words. ‘I’m sorry for being a crap father, for not allowing you to follow your own path, for—’

  Ross laughed, snatched the paper from his hand, crumpled it and tossed it over his shoulder. ‘I think that’s more than enough of Mum’s soppiness.’

  ‘Thank God. But I am very proud of what you’ve achieved...on your own.’

  Jonas smiled and Ross ignored the sheen of emotion in their eyes.

  ‘Well, so...I really like this house. I can see myself spending some time here. I also like the idea of Crazy Collaborations. Need some help with that?’

  Ross thought for a moment. He didn’t have enough time to spend on his think tank project and it could only benefit from his father’s excellent business brain. It would also give Jonas something to do instead of driving his mum nuts on the boat.

  ‘I’d be grateful for your long distance away, e-mail-based help on one condition.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You keep your nose out of RBM.’

  ‘Deal,’ Jonas quickly agreed.

  Ross, his brain working overtime at the thought of having his father back in his life, guilt-free, sat down on the chair opposite Jonas and placed his bare feet on the table. He smiled when Jonas slipped off his shoes and copied his actions.

  ‘So, tell me about Ally. How long have you been together?’ Jonas asked.

  Ross slanted him a look. While he was thrilled that he and his father seemed to have turned a very steep corner, he wasn’t anywhere near able to discuss his love life with him.