Page 23 of Bedroom Therapy

Then she went back to the mail.

It was difficult to work, but she had to finish her column, and reading letters would distract her from her own problems.

The first one she opened said—

Dear Esther,

My boyfriend is talking about getting married. But I’m not sure that’s such a great idea. He’s a lot more adventuresome sexually than I am. He wants to try stuff that scares me. Like, he wants to tie me up. And sometimes he calls me up and starts talking real sexy on the phone. And I don’t know how to handle that.

Can you tell me what to do?

Worried in Wisconsin

Amanda read over the letter, then laid it back on top of the stack. Another bondage question. This one for her—not the former Esther Scott.

She sighed. Was it a lot more prevalent than she’d assumed? Truly, she wasn’t sure what to answer, since she’d never tried either bondage or phone sex.

She didn’t want to think about bondage. What about phone sex? Was it healthy? The woman hadn’t said that her boyfriend went away on trips. Was he calling from across the city? The next state? What?

She was wondering if she should go on to another letter when a knock at the door made her jump.

Cautiously she got up and pulled the curtains aside. Zachary was standing on the narrow cement strip outside.

Quickly she reached for the chain and slid it out of the metal bracket, then opened the door.

Zachary was grinning as he stepped into the room. “Good news,” he said.

“I’ve got you a nice new house. It’s on Turtle Creek instead of the river, but you’ve got an extra bedroom. And a bigger kitchen.”

“How did you manage that?”

“Charm.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Right. You saw the place?”

“Briefly. But I’m not the one who has to sign on the dotted line. You can back out if you don’t like it.”

“Okay.”

Let’s get you packed up again. If you like the house, we can collect the rest of your stuff later. You’ve got a few days overlap—to give you time to move.”

She marveled at his take-charge attitude. Apparently when Zachary Grant decided to get something done—he did it.

He strode toward the table, then stopped when he saw the letter. She’d told him the correspondence was confidential. When he glanced at her, she gave a tiny shrug. Permission, if that’s how he wanted to take it.

She wasn’t sure why she was giving that permission. Because she wanted his opinion on the subject?

She watched him bend to read the text.

“So, are you going to tell her it’s okay to try bondage?” he asked in a conversational tone.

“That could be dangerous.”

“It sounds like they’re in a committed relationship.”

“I can’t tell for sure. Sometimes, when readers give the background of a relationship, they’re misleading.”

“Why?”

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