One Night Standards Read Free Page A

us, at least,” he said. “I don’t want to be stuck feeling like a spy or a criminal just because we happen to work in the same industry.” He winked at her. “Besides…I like you.”
    That seemed to catch her by surprise. “Why?”
    â€œYou’ve got guts,” he said. “And lord, you’re persistent. I half thought you were going to hit me on the head and steal my car if I didn’t give in!”
    â€œWhy didn’t I think of that?” She laughed again, and slowly, he felt the tension in the car recede. “So, what do you want to know?”
    He looked at her. “Why don’t you tell me about your old job,” he said, “and we’ll take it from there.”
    Sophie revealed her past as an account executive at a cutthroat apparel company, talking about hellish bosses and asinine corporate policies that had finally caused her to quit. The stories, while crazy, were also funny, at least the way she told them. “So that’s why I decided to work for my family,” she said. “What about you? What caused you to work for cosmetics?”
    â€œI used to be—don’t laugh,” he cautioned. “I was a male model.”
    She didn’t laugh. “I can see that,” she said instead, and he could’ve sworn that there was a tone of admiration in her voice. Warmth expanded from the pit of his stomach in response, and he focused on her next question to distract himself. “But why cosmetics?”
    â€œI ran into a lot of cosmetics people working,” he said. “They knew a lot of cosmetics sales reps, and I wound up interviewing with one of them when I decided to go into business. It was a friend of a friend. Besides, I understood how the products worked on the women I worked with,” he added. But that sounded defensive. “I figure, it’s been a good experience.”
    â€œHuh. We’re a pair, aren’t we?” She leaned back, stretching, and he got a glimpse of her breasts pressing against the straining cloth of her blouse.
    â€œHow do you mean?”
    â€œWe’ve both got something to prove,” she said. “I’m trying to prove that you can make it in business without being heartless. You’re trying to prove that you’re more than just a pretty face.”
    He stared at the road, momentarily stunned. She’d summed up his life in one sentence, and realized what people he’d been working with for years hadn’t seemed to grasp.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said quickly. “That was blunt, again, wasn’t it?”
    â€œNo, it’s fine,” he said.
    â€œI know you’re more than just your looks, though,” she added.
    â€œReally?” He sneaked a quick look at her face. “How can you tell?”
    â€œYou heard me talk about my meeting, and you jumped on it,” she said. “You’ve been persuasive, without being a pest. And you listened to my old business stories and asked really good questions. You obviously know your stuff.”
    He couldn’t help it. He grinned with pride. “Thanks.”
    â€œYou’re going to be a tough competitor to beat.”
    He laughed. “Damn, I like you.”
    She smiled in response. “I like you, too.”
    â€œLet’s stop talking about business,” he said. “I want to know more about you. The real you.”
    She laughed, a bit nervously. “What do you want to know?”
    â€œAnything,” he said softly. “Everything.”
    For a moment, it was as if they were frozen in time. Then she cleared her throat.
    â€œI always wanted to live in Paris.”
    He smiled. It might not help him get the promotion, but as he listened to her talk about her dreams and fears, he admitted that he felt better than he ever had, at any sales meeting or business function. And she was, technically, the enemy. After this car ride, they’d probably