Page 84 of Bedroom Therapy

Chapter Sixteen

Amanda leaned back in the leather guest chair across from Beth Cantro. She was pleased with her first Esther Scott column, and she’d come into town to deliver it in person.

Part of her reasoning had been to get out of the house, because living within those four walls was getting a little tense. It had been only five days since she’d made her pact with Zach, and she was already wondering how long she could possibly hold out.

As if Beth knew the woman across the desk was a bundle of sexual frustration, she gave her a considering look. “You seem kind of . . . on edge,” she said. “When you told me you were back up here and living with Zachary Grant, I thought I’d see your cheeks glowing with happiness.”

“We’ve got a few things to work out.”

Beth leaned forward slightly. “You want to talk about it?”

Amanda shook her head. Much as she’d like to confide in her friend—to confide in someone—she wasn’t going to talk about Zachary’s problem. It was too personal.

“Is he being good to you?” Beth probed.

“Very good.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Nothing serious.”

“When I first met him, I thought he was perfect for you. Am I going to be disappointed?”

“No!” she answered, because she was going to make this work—if the cure killed them both.

“Okay. Let’s go out to lunch to celebrate the first new Esther Scott column.”

“You haven’t even read it yet.”

“Actually I have.”

Amanda blinked. “How? I just put it on your desk a few minutes ago.”

“After you left the house, I phoned Zach and told him you’d called and said you left it home, and you wanted him to e-mail it.”

“That’s kind of sneaky, don’t you think.”

Beth had the grace to look embarrassed before she began talking rapidly. “Point taken. But I knew your material was going to be great. I wanted to be able to tell you that today, because I know you’re a perfectionist. I know you were agonizing over getting it right. Well, you have nothing to worry about. In my professional opinion, it’s wonderful. Just what Vanessa needs. You’re better than Esther Knight ever was. You’re more sensitive to the needs of the readers. You’re a better writer. And you’re more in tune with today’s young woman.”

Amanda flushed with pleasure. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“Accept the praise graciously. Then get started on your next installment.”

“I’ve been looking at letters, deciding which ones I want to answer.”

“Good. But make sure you include some of the e-mails.”

“I will.”

“Let’s go to lunch, then. I’ve made reservations at a little Italian restaurant I discovered. If we leave now, we can beat the noontime crowd.”

“Italian sounds fine,” Amanda answered, thinking that she’d been eating far too much good food lately. Both she and Zach had been doing a lot of cooking—as a way to take their minds off sex.

Sex. Every thought she had led back to sex.

“Earth to Amanda,” Beth broke into her musings.

“Sorry.”

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