A Little Night Music Read Online Free PDF

by the haunting tones of a wooden flute as they perused their menus. Hannah found the music somewhat wistful, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The server poured green tea into fragile porcelain bowls for them, and the fragrance joined the assault on her senses.
    She had to remember the plan. The job came first, and then she would be free to seduce Nate Fox.
    She darted a glance at him, and found him looking back at her. A smile quirked his mouth, only for her, and heat pooled at the juncture of her thighs. Maybe the plan needed to be rethought. Maybe she’d do a better job working with him if she weren’t so tuned to his body. Get the lust out of the way, then settle down to business. It was so hard to concentrate when every nerve in her body hummed with awareness.
    The petite server, dressed in a pale rose kimono, took their orders. Gina and Sam ordered teriyaki. Hannah rolled her eyes, called them wimps, and ordered sushi. Nate followed suit, obviously knowledgeable about the cuisine.
    “One of the things I love about San Francisco is the fresh seafood,” he said. “I miss that when I’m on the road.”
    “It must be tough, being away from home so many days out of the year,” Gina said.
    “It can get tiring,” Nate agreed. “Sometimes it’s a struggle to keep up the energy and enthusiasm.”
    It was an obvious reference to his past drug use. Was it also a warning that he was afraid he would succumb again?
    It wasn’t her job to be his therapist or his mother. It was her job to make him look good, no matter what. She’d dealt with this before, with clients who were determined to destroy themselves. She’d hated every damn second of it: of watching them fuck up, again and again; of struggling to find some way to downplay it or hide it or make some big commotion over here to distract everyone from it.
    Early in her career, when she worked for a label, one of the artists had OD’d, found with the rubber strap still digging into his flesh and the needle still in his hand. He hadn’t been her client, but she’d helped with his campaign.
    She closed her eyes. If Nate was headed in that direction, maybe it was better to leave him as her teenage fantasy, as a poster on her wall. Just do what she’d been hired to do, and if he imploded, she’d just move on to the next job.
    But when she opened her eyes again, he was watching, and she had the sense that he knew what she’d been thinking. She shivered under his gaze.
     “I imagine touring has its perks as well,” she said, making an effort to lighten the mood.
    “Room service,” he said with a slow smile, his eyes never leaving hers.
    The words conjured up a specific image: Nate, naked and sleep-tousled, groping for the phone to order up morning coffee and croissants. Hannah ran her tongue along her lower lip again.
    “Yes, there’s definitely something to be said for someone bringing you breakfast in bed after a long, hard night,” she said, and took a slow sip of her tea, her eyes teasing him over the bowl’s rim.
    “My parents and I did some traveling when I was young, and I loved it,” Gina said. “Europe was spectacular. I’d love to go back.”
    “It’s certainly more interesting than Bays Junction, Wisconsin, or Sutters Fork, Kansas,” Nate said. “I spend a lot of time in places like that—although I think I spend even more time on the tour bus.”
    “The thrilling life of a rock star,” Hannah said with a laugh. “What about the image of the fancy hotels, the parties, the champagne luxury? Don’t burst our bubble.”
    “The beds in the tour bus, the tiny bathroom, no privacy,” Nate put in. The laughter in his eyes told her he was teasing her now, understanding her worry and trying to get a rise out of her.
    Hannah had fantasized enough over the years about a narrow, intimate bunk on the bus, the swaying motion of the moving vehicle urging them closer…. She swallowed hard, struggling to maintain a professional