One Mad Night by Julia London Read Free Book Online Page B

and dropped it onto a plate Ian held up to her. “I am not uptight,” she said, as if that were a completely unreasonable thing to say, as if she were the poster child for free and easy, as if Farrah had not said, just two days ago, You don’t have to be so uptight about it concerning something Chelsea didn’t even recall now. “ Yes , I have a good work ethic,” she said, picking up the next box and ripping it open. “ Yes , I put in long hours. But I have to—I have a lot of work. And anyway, what is wrong with being professional? You have to stir that,” she said, motioning to the Lean Cuisine that she’d taken from the microwave.
    â€œThere is nothing wrong with being professional,” Ian said, following her instructions. “But sometimes, you have to let your hair down too. Be a guy.”
    She paused in what she was doing and gave him a look. “You’re kidding, right?”
    â€œNope,” he said unapologetically. “It’s a tough industry. I’m just saying sometimes you have to play.”
    â€œI play,” she said, but she frowned as she put the second entrée into the microwave. She wasn’t sure she really knew what that meant. She could just picture Brad and Ian hanging out on the weekends. Was Brad married? She didn’t know if he was. Maybe Brad’s wife had taken an interest in Ian’s bachelor status. Maybe she was inviting him to dinner parties with socialites—
    â€œJust some friendly advice,” Ian said, misreading her silence for disagreement. “You’re moving in a man’s world, Chelsea. Might as well adopt some of their habits.”
    â€œThat is so ridiculous,” she said, although she wasn’t certain if it was, at least not in the world of advertising. She had noticed that women in advertising were often called aggressive and bossy, whereas men were go-getters and creative. “Would you adopt the habits of women if you were moving in an industry dominated by them?”
    â€œWell now, that depends on what you’d advise,” Ian said as he filled two glasses with tap water.
    â€œI would never advise you to adopt habits that weren’t yours already.”
    â€œOh,” he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “A bit above it, are you?” He winked at her and picked up the plate with the Tuscan chicken and the two glasses of water. He leaned forward, his gaze locked on hers. “See? Uptight. ” He strolled out of the kitchen.
    â€œProfessional!” she shouted back at him.
    The microwave dinged. Chelsea removed the second entrée and put it on the plate, grabbed the two forks Ian had found, and followed him out to the small conference table.
    â€œHere’s the thing with you, Crawford,” Ian said easily as he offered her a seat as if they were at a fine dining restaurant. “You treat me like an adversary when I could be your friend. You and I could both have been sitting around this very table eating Lean Cuisine with Brad.”
    The wound was just getting deeper. “He actually served you his Lean Cuisine ?” she asked, feeling small.
    â€œWhat? No,” Ian said, looking at her as if that was preposterous. “I’m just saying, if we worked together, we—”
    â€œI’m going to stop you right there,” Chelsea said instantly. “I don’t buy into that whole work together theory. We are in competition for a job. Plus, you’re pals with Zimmerman, so naturally, I can’t but help call your character into question.” She arched a dark brow, challenging him to disagree. She meant it sincerely—there wasn’t a greasier person than Zach Zimmerman in all of New York.
    Ian laughed. “I stand by my earlier statement. You don’t have to take this competition so seriously. But I will concede that you have a valid point about Zimmerman. I’ll be right back.”
    He disappeared