are looking for. He’s rich and successful in his own right, even though he comes from a wealthy family. He’s in touch with a new generation of tech-savvy people who have money. He’s charismatic and interesting. I want you to go to Cape Town, meet the guy, and if you still think he’s the wrong choice then we’ll talk again.’
The wrong choice? Ally now thought. Hah! The perfect choice.
Her mobile rang and she glanced down at the name that flashed on the screen. Luc...of course. She slid her finger across the screen and answered the call.
‘Where are you?’
‘Waiting to meet Ross Bennett again,’ Ally replied in a resigned voice. ‘He’s a strong candidate.’
‘I am the man!’ Luc crowed with a loud, undignified whoop. Ally hoped that he was alone in his office and that nobody could hear his self-congratulations. ‘And that is why they pay me the big bucks, ladies and gentlemen!’
‘Yeah, Luc.... You are the man,’ Ally grumbled. ‘Luc one, Ally zero.’
Luc was silent for a minute before he spoke again. ‘Ally, you can’t possibly be upset because I had an idea that panned out...can you?’
‘Maybe a little,’ she admitted.
Luc’s chuckle was warm and affectionate in her ear. ‘You are such a pork chop, kid. We run Bellechier as a team effort—you know this. I might be the CEO but I frequently ask my dad for help and advice. When Patric gets stuck on a design he calls our mother and they talk it through. You can’t find the face and we’re trying to help you out. When are you going to stop taking everything so personally, sweetheart?’
But it was personal. Because if she wasn’t performing at a hundred per cent she was failing them, wasn’t she? They’d given her so much, and since she couldn’t give them what they most wanted—her thoughts and feelings—she gave them what she could—her labour and her loyalty. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise...you’ve done nothing wrong!’
His words were kind but Ally could imagine Luc shoving his hand into his coal-black hair in frustration. She frequently frustrated her very emotionally expressive and intelligent family. Dammit.
She looked for an excuse to end this conversation. ‘I’m just a bit tired, Luc.’
‘Tired, thin...probably undernourished. You’re working far too hard and you are going to burn out, Alyssa. And then Maman is going to kill me!’
Back to this old chestnut... She’d always been thin—that was nothing new. And, yes, she was working hard, but she always had. ‘Luc, I’m fine! How many times do I have to say it?’
‘We don’t believe you...mostly because you look like a panda and you barely touched your food the other night. Are you coping at work?’
Ally’s eyes narrowed as the barman topped up her wine and she sent him a grateful smile. ‘Do you have any complaints?’
‘No, of course I don’t.’
‘Then I’m coping at work.’
Ally heard the long breath he expelled. ‘You are the reason I don’t have a girlfriend, Ally; I spend too much emotional energy worrying about you.’
Ally had to smile at that. ‘Rubbish. You don’t have a girlfriend because you have a low boredom threshold.’
‘That too. Listen, with Ross try your best, okay? Be charming...funny...because despite the fact that you are as prickly as a hedgehog I know you can be both. Je t’adore, Alyssa.’
She wished she could give him those words back but, as always, they stuck in her throat.
‘Bye, Luc.’
Luc disconnected and Ally dropped her phone into her bag. Her brothers: good-looking, smart, kind. Even if she was prepared to get involved with a man, could get involved, she’d probably still be single because they’d set the bar extremely high.
One day maybe she’d feel brave enough to try to find a man who matched up. Maybe one day she’d have the time to try. One day.
But not any time soon.
TWO
‘Something with your wine?’
Ally looked up into those amazing green-brown-gold eyes and her heart kerplopped in her chest again. His caramel-brown hair was squeaky clean and had been left to curl down his strong neck. Even in the low light of the bar she could see the sun-kissed blond streaks and tips. Too natural to have come out of a salon, she decided, and he didn’t seem to be the type to fuss. He’d removed the two-day-old shadow off his face—sadly, in her opinion—and his cargo pants and vivid red tee had been replaced with a very nice fitted pair of dark jeans and a loose button-down black linen shirt, the cuffs of which he’d rolled up his tanned arms.
Oh, yeah...he so had the X-factor and the Y-factor...and the make-her-hum-factor.
‘Ally?’
The way he said her name, in his deep, quizzical voice, had her pulling herself together. ‘Wine... Hi... The wine is fine. Why do you ask?’
‘You were scowling into it.’ Ross slid onto the stool next to her and ordered a beer from the bartender. Then he turned back to her and made a big point of inspecting her from top to toe. ‘You surprise me, Jones. I was expecting another black and white combo. Nice.’
So he’d noticed...good. Changing his perception about Bellechier—that it was snooty and snobby—was her first goal, and that was why she’d deliberately chosen a very different outfit for this evening. He needed to see that their new line was fun and casual and would suit his obviously casual approach to life and work.
So as part of her strategy for the evening she wore the only dress she had brought with her: a short, flouncy cobalt number that was trimmed in black and cinched in at the waist with a funky silver belt. It also happened to come from the new line they were launching in a few months’ time.
This morning she’d wanted to look professional, and had opted for one of her many easy to wear, smart but comfortable outfits that travelled well. But tonight Ross Bennett needed to get a sense of the line, an idea of what they wanted him to promote, so she’d slipped on the dress and teamed it with another pair of kick-butt shoes. She’d just forgotten how damn short it was.
Now she resisted the urge to pull the skirt towards her knees. She was not comfortable in anything that only hit midthigh and felt particularly conscious of the amount of time Ross was spending looking at her legs.
It made her feel squirmy and hot, unsettled. Dammit, she wanted him to think about the line, about business, not her legs.
Ally flushed under his scrutiny. ‘Thank you. This dress is from the new line we’d like you to endorse.’
‘Okay, not what I expected.’ Ross smiled his thanks as his beer was placed in front of him. ‘And that’s a damn nice watch you’re wearing—very unusual. Is it also part of the line?
‘No.’
