Two delightful contemporary romance novellas in one
book from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia London.
One winter’s night a blizzard sweeps across the
country, demonstrating that fate can change the course of lives in an
instant…and fate has got a sense of humor.
One Mad Night
Chelsea Crawford and Ian Rafferty are high profile ad
execs in cutthroat competition for a client. When a major winter storm puts New
York City on lockdown, the two rivals have to make it through the night
together—oh, the many ways in which opposites attract...
The Bridesmaid - Bonus Novella
RITA Award Nominee for Best Romance Novella of 2013
Kate Preston has just moved to New York. Joe Firretti
is contemplating a move to Seattle. When the weather wreaks havoc with
transportation systems, Kate and Joe meet as they are both trying to rent the
last car available… As Kate races to make her best friend’s wedding, and Joe
races to a life-altering job interview, it looks like together is the only way
they’ll make it at all.
“Hey!” she said sharply, her voice full of accusation.
Ian’s head snapped up. “Hey,” he said con-genially.
“Practicing your pitch?” He settled one hip onto the conference table.
“Do you mind?” She gestured to the door in a
be-off-with-you way.
“If you want, I could listen and give you some
feedback.”
Chelsea’s mouth dropped open. And then her green eyes
narrowed into little slits. “You have got to be the most arrogant man I’ve ever
met.”
Ian smiled and shrugged.
“You can go, Ian,” she said, marching around the
conference table to usher him out. “I think I’ve got it.”
“Suit yourself.”
“I will.”
“So hostile,” he said with a wink as he stood up. “I’m
just trying to help. It never hurts for someone to hear the pitch, right?
You’ve had someone listen to you go through it, right?”
“Yes, I’ve had—Hey, hey,” she said, poking him in the
chest. “Are you trying to play me?” she demanded. “Because it won’t work. I’m
not some junior account person, you know. You can’t intimidate me.”
“Well, obviously,” Ian said and poked her back. “You
wouldn’t be pitching at all if you were a junior account person. I know I can’t
intimidate you. It wasn’t a declaration of war, you know; it was an offer to
help.”
“It wasn’t a let-me-help, best-friends-forever
offer, either. I’m not playing games with you. This account means a lot to
me—”
“Me too.”
“Oh yeah?” she said, shifting closer. “Well, don’t get
too attached to the idea. I’ve got seniority, you know.”
“So why are you so afraid to show me what you’ve got?”
“Because it’s none of your business.”
“On the eve of the championship, it’s okay to go out
and shoot some hoops with your competitor. It’s not going to affect tomorrow’s
big game. It’s not like I can go out and change weeks of work overnight if I
see you’ve got something better.”
She laughed. “Good try, Rafferty, but I think maybe
the reason you want to see my pitch is because you’re worried about the
strength of your pitch. Is it a little rough? Maybe I should listen to you.”
She winked, and her green eyes shone with pleasure at her comeback.
“I’m definitely not worried about my pitch.”
“No? Seems to me if you’re presenting three,” she
said, holding up three fingers and wiggling them at him, “then you must be
uncertain which one is the winner.” Her smile broadened into sheer triumph, as
if she thought she’d really zinged him.
She hadn’t zinged him, but Ian did wonder how she knew
what he had…Zach. Of course. That rat bastard. “Have you been talking to
Zimmerman?” he asked accusingly.
She shrugged and studied her manicure. “Maybe. Does it
matter? I thought we were doing the let’s-help-each-other thing. But if
we’re not, would you mind toddling off? I have a lot of work I need to do
before tomorrow. I plan to hit the ground running with this account on Monday.”
She was amazingly and annoyingly confident. Ian was
generally a confident guy, but she was making him a teensy bit nervous. “You
really think you’re going to get this, don’t you?”
“I don’t think, I know,” she said, looking up.
He tilted his head to one side to study her. “Isn’t it
obvious to you why they brought me in?”
“I don’t know—I haven’t given it the slightest bit of
thought.” She lifted her chin, and Ian realized she lied about as well as she
engaged in verbal volleyball. “I’ve been promised that this account is as good
as mine. Didn’t they tell you that when they brought you in?”
A bit more of Ian’s confidence leaked out of him. He’d
been in New York advertising long enough to know that the industry was full of
snakes. He wouldn’t put it past anyone to feed him a bunch of half-baked
promises to get him to commit. “Who told you?”
She grinned. “None of your beeswax.”
“Come on, tell me—” His phone rang, distracting him
momentarily. He fished it out of his pocket and noticed the number was the
Grabber-Paulson main number. That was weird. “Listen, I’ll just say this,” he
said, clicking off the phone. “Don’t be so sure of things. People say things
they don’t mean, especially in this industry.” He started for the door.
“Uh-huh, I know. And I would offer you the same
advice, Mr. Rafferty,” she said in a singsong voice, and she flashed a dazzling
smile, full of straight white teeth.
“Cocky too. I like that about you,” he said. “I’ll
keep it in mind when I make partner.” He winked at her, smiled as if he was
completely unbothered, and went out of the conference room.
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