Free Hard As Ice (Fortis Series 1) by Raven Scott Page A

same. But she always preferred honesty.
    “Not good,” she replied bluntly, looking out the passenger window at the passing city.
    “Why, what happened?” he asked.
    “Just work stuff.” God, it would be nice to talk to someone about the crap she was in. “It will resolve itself eventually,” she added instead.
    “Well, then we have to make sure we take your mind off it all this evening.”
    She looked over at him with a grateful smile.
    “Do you enjoy what you do?” Evan asked a moment later.
    “Sales? It’s okay, I guess. A means to an end, really,” she stated.
    “What end?”
    “Life,” she retorted with a chuckle. “Life is expensive.”
    He threw her a smile then refocused on the road by pulling up to a valet parking booth in the trendy area near Fenway Park.
    “I’m told this place has the best seafood in the city,” Evan told her as he walked through the doors of the elegant restaurant. Nia knew the place well, and was aware that it usually took weeks to get a reservation. The hostess led them to their table at the back of the room, near a blazing fireplace. Nia handed the woman her coat and soft scarf before they were seated.
    “So, Evan, how was your day?” She emphasized his name, teasingly confirming that this meal was not a business meeting. It was a date, and she was feeling pretty good about it.
    He grinned, flashing the dimple. It should be a sin for a man to look so appealing.
    “It was all right. But much better now,” he replied. “In case it wasn’t obvious, you look beautiful this evening.”
    Nia opened her mouth to give a sarcastic, dismissive remark. But she met his eyes, and her brain stopped working. There it was, written plainly in the clench of his jaw and intensity of his gaze. He wanted her and he wanted her to know it. Nia licked her top lip, her mouth suddenly dry.
    Their waiter interrupted them at that moment to take their orders. Nia chose the ahi tuna and Evan ordered the prime rib. He also ordered a bottle of Australian pinot noir.
    “So, Nia James,” Evan stated as they took their first sips of the light wine. “If you didn’t need a job as a means to an end, what would you be doing?”
    “As a new client, I probably should tell you that sales is my life. That there is nothing else I would rather do as a career, right?” she replied with a pout of her lips.
    “Well, I’m not your client tonight. I’m your date, trying to get to know you better,” he replied.
    “In that case, I’d have to think about it a little. But my client should know that I’m very good at what I do.”
    Evan smiled, clearly amused.
    “He knows.”
    Nia nodded, satisfied. Then she contemplated his question. The instinctive response was there, but it took her a few moments to acknowledge it and find the words. It had been years since she had given it any serious thought.
    “I would write songs,” she finally stated.
    He paused with his glass halfway to his mouth, and Nia took pleasure in her ability to catch him off guard. It also felt good to say the words out loud.
    “Really?” he queried.
    “That surprises you,” she surmised.
    Evan put down his wine and leaned forward.
    “Are you good at it?” he questioned.
    “I used to be. But I haven’t written anything in a long time.”
    “Why not?”
    Great question. One she wasn’t ready to answer honestly to Evan or herself. It had too much to do with her fear of feeling exposed, naked. Vulnerable. Instead, she shrugged dismissively.
    “Life,” she quipped.
    “Life,” repeated Evan, but his eyes said he knew a little about what she wasn’t saying.
    “What about you, Evan?” Nia returned. “Do you enjoy your work?”
    He generously allowed the change in direction. As their meals arrived, he talked about working for his father’s company in various functions overseas until his father’s death last year. Then he became the acting CEO.
    “Why acting? It’s your family’s company. It would seem you’d be the