The Million-Dollar Question. Kimberly Lang

what?” she asked innocently.

      “Like I’m some kind of miser. I give to charity. I just lean toward the more practical. You know, like food, housing, medical care …”

      “Those are all very worthy causes.”

      “Is that sarcasm?”

      “No. It’s hard to enrich the mind and soul when the body is hungry. I’m sure your philanthropy is much appreciated.”

      Evan felt as if there was something else that needed to be addressed. An undercurrent he was missing. But they were interrupted by the arrival of their meals.

      Olivia greeted the food with a genuine, “That looks amazing.” She inhaled the aroma with a blissful look on her face before taking a bite.

      The steak with cream sauce was one of Tourmaine’s signature dishes, and rightly so. Olivia obviously agreed; chewing her first bite with her eyes closed while making little happy noises. “Oh, man. That’s so good.”

      He swallowed hard. He knew that look. Remembered it as if he’d seen it yesterday. But Olivia hadn’t been eating steak with cream sauce the last time he’d seen it. He’d put that look on her face.

      His blood rushed to his lap with a speed that left him feeling slightly light-headed. That one look had opened a floodgate of memories—memories he’d safely locked in a box to forget until just now. But that look …

      He could practically feel those long, strong legs wrapped around him.

      When she opened her eyes and saw him staring, she looked a little abashed. “I said I eat. I can’t eat like this all the time, though, so I enjoy it very much when I do.”

      If she was going to enjoy her entire dinner like that, he’d be dead by dessert.

      Thank goodness Olivia couldn’t read his mind.

       CHAPTER TWO

      EVAN FOUND THAT concentrating on his food helped. Some. Tourmaine’s owner, Harry, came by, nicely distracting his attention as he introduced Olivia and she complimented everything from the steak to the music. Harry was duly flattered and invited her back to try everything on the menu.

      By the time it was just the two of them again, Evan had himself basically back under control, thankfully.

      They ate for a little while, the conversation carefully kept to the simple topics of the excellent food, Jory’s successes, her parents and the weather. It was oddly easy. Even fun, at times. There was the occasional overlong pause, but they didn’t last. He’d nearly forgotten how smart and funny Olivia could be, and that had only improved in the intervening years. They had very little in common—no overlapping tastes in music, TV or movies, and some widely differing stances on politics and social issues—but that worked in their favor, keeping the conversation moving and interesting. And while he might be shallow, this was what had actually tipped the attraction all those years ago and made him risk Jory’s wrath.

      And it was almost enough to let him ignore that little voice nagging him now.

       Almost.

      When he decided they’d had enough of the small talk, he charged ahead. “Well, you seem to be settling in fine, so you don’t need anything from me in that area, everything is okay with the people we have in common, and,” he couldn’t help but say through a chuckle, “I don’t want to buy season tickets to the ballet. Care to tell me why we’re actually here?”

      She chewed, but he figured that was more of a stalling tactic than anything else. Finally she swallowed. “To eat dinner?”

      “Come on, Liv, you’ve been in town since when? August? If you’d wanted my company for dinner, you’d have called long before now.”

      “Therefore, I must have nefarious reasons to do so now?”

      “I wouldn’t necessarily assume your reasons are nefarious, but you must have at least one above and beyond a free meal.”

      She shrugged a shoulder again.

      Fine. There’d been two elephants in the room and Olivia had been talking around them both for over an hour now. If she wouldn’t address the specific why of this dinner, he’d simply address the problem he did know. He leveled a look at her across the table. “After all, the last time we spoke, you called me a cold, heartless bastard.”

      She blinked, somehow caught off guard by the blunt statement. “True. I was mad and my feelings were hurt.”

      At least she was honest about that much. “So why would you want to have dinner with a ‘heartless bastard’?”

      “I’m trying to make my home here. I thought it’d be nice to expand my network of people outside just the dance world, and you are the only person in Miami—outside my roommate and the company members—that I know. Since I’m not the same person I was nine years ago, I’m assuming you aren’t either.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “I guess I’m hoping you outgrew that.”

      “Not really,” he said, causing her to choke slightly on her wine.

      “Wow.” She cleared her throat and thought for a minute. “Well, at least you’re honest about it.”

      “Those aren’t exactly bad qualities to have in my line of work.”

      She thought for a moment, and then nodded. “If that’s the case, then we just won’t do this again. It’s okay. You’re friends with Jory and that doesn’t automatically include me simply by extension. You have a life, and I can’t just intrude upon that.”

      Well, now he felt like a heel. And the one possibility he’d been steadfastly ignoring as implausible was beginning to win out: Olivia had wanted to see him. He’d hurt her and yet she’d still gotten in touch after all this time. It was equal parts flattering and mystifying.

      It was also extremely complicated. Jory had put his sister firmly off-limits nine years ago. Not that Evan blamed him. He’d been seriously messed up back then, not nearly good enough for Olivia. Hell, he probably still wasn’t what someone like Liv needed, and he had to assume that prohibition was still in place. Of course, Olivia didn’t know about any of that. It put him in a very awkward situation. There was a huge difference between an eighteen-year-old and a twenty-seven-year-old, but she was still Jory’s sister.

      Maybe she was just lonely and in need of a friend. Just because he was having flashbacks to happier, more naked times, there was no reason to assume she was, as well. And while he’d broken a major tenet of the Guy Code by sleeping with her before, there was an equally important tenet of the Code that required him to look after a friend’s sister when she was new and alone in a big city. There were as many possibilities as pitfalls here. “Well, I guess if you’re fully aware I’m still a heartless bastard and are willing to accept that, then there’s no reason we can’t be friends anyway.”

      Olivia’s eyes widened at the baldness of his words, but he could rest easy either way knowing she was coming in with her eyes wide open. The ball was in her court, and he was frankly very curious to find out how she’d play.

      Because she couldn’t say he hadn’t warned her.

       You’re a coward. A fool. A screaming idiot who should be kept on a leash for her own safety.

      Olivia stared at herself in the mirror of the ladies’ room and frowned. She’d had such clear, simple goals for this dinner, and she’d failed to accomplish even one.

      Instead, she couldn’t have made a bigger mess if she’d tried.

      In a just and fair world, anger and hurt feelings would not fade enough over time to allow the person who caused those feelings to have the same effect on her that had gotten her into the situation in the first