shook his head. “If he gets extra weird, I’m bailing, Amanda. I can’t see how this can be a good thing.”
At last. Acceptance. “Okay, okay. Just let me do the talking.”
He spread his hands wide. “You’re the shyster.”
Oh, fudge, this was going to be harder than she thought. “Cut the cracks. Remember we’re supposed to be deeply in lust.”
Joe just laughed; obviously thinking such an idea was ludicrous. Just you wait, Joe, just you wait.
WHEN AVERY RETURNED, he looked calm as ever. Which could only be a good thing, Joe thought. Somebody needed to be calm. Joe sure as hell wasn’t. Insane was the actual word that flashed in Joe’s mind.
With surgical precision, Avery placed his napkin in his lap; a graceful gesture that was obviously for their benefit. First Avery looked at Amanda and then back to Joe. “Well?”
Amanda began first. “As I said…”
Avery held up his hand. “No. I want to hear what Joe has to say.”
Damn. Joe had never been prepared at school, that’s why he’d been exiled into public education, and he certainly couldn’t win at a debate with his brother. He kept it simple. “She’s right.”
Avery leaned forward and Joe got that awful spider-in-the-web feeling. “Joe, are you really in love with Amanda, or are you just after a temporary diversion that is several plateaus above your normal standards?”
What was he supposed to say? Avery was his brother. He stalled, not quite ready to commit himself yet. “Avery, if I were in love with Amanda, what would you do?”
Avery took a sip of water. “And she was in love with you?”
Joe nodded.
Avery stroked his chin. “If the two of you were truly in love, I couldn’t interfere.”
Amanda shot Joe her female “told-you-so” look. “However,” Avery continued, “I fully expect this little walk on the wild side to run its course after a short time. A very short time.”
Avery lifted his glass and swirled the wine, but Joe wasn’t fooled. This was serious to Avery. “Are you in love with her, Joe?”
He didn’t like lying to his brother; there were better ways of ducking the truth, but maybe Amanda had it right after all. Joe clinked Avery’s glass with his own and nodded.
Instead of dejection, Avery’s smile was full of that same smug confidence that had got him accepted at St. Albans, a scholarship to Columbia. “Then may the best man win.”
Joe closed his eyes and sunk into his seat. No way. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? He was not going to enter into some hellish competition with his brother. When it came to Avery, Joe always lost.
Amanda poked him with her fork under the table and he shot her a dirty look. He didn’t deserve that.
But he’d gotten himself in too far. She’d sucked him right into her little pact with the devil, and so he just smiled weakly. “Yeah.”
This was such a bad idea.
2
IT HAD ONLY BEEN ONE DAY. Amanda traced the white petals of the orchid with her finger. Orchids of all things. She glanced about her office, for the first time hating the stark white modern décor that she herself had picked out two years ago. White art deco chairs, an uncluttered glass desk and unadorned soft white walls. In New York City, everything was a fashionable black or a muted gray, and she had always liked white. It was clean, pure and now unfortunately, her office was more like a hospital. Cold. Like the orchids.
Mentally she gathered her courage, lifted the receiver and dialed Avery’s pager. She followed the computerized instructions, entered her phone number and made notes on how she would redecorate her office.
A few minutes later, Grace, the latest temp, walked in, wearing her new Statue of Liberty sunglasses. Secretarial temps were usually ghosts that flitted around the office, not wanting to be noticed at all. Grace was different. She was a perpetual tourist trapped in the body of a temporary secretary—proof that God had a sense of humor. “Dr. Barrington for you, Amanda.” She lifted her shades. “Should I make an excuse?”
“No, thanks, Grace.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” Grace left Amanda alone with the blinking phone line.
Amanda stared at the flashing light and then picked up the phone. Saying “no” to Avery had never come easy to her; perhaps secretly he had sensed that. Whatever the reason, Amanda still hated discussing it. One day. Hopefully soon.
“Avery?”
“Yes? You paged?”
“Why did you send me orchids?”
“Did Joe send you orchids as well?”
Amanda sighed heavily into the mouthpiece, making sure he heard it. “No.”
“Well, there. Your beauty calls for a rarer flower. Something long and delicate. Wasn’t it Robert Frost who said, ‘Sometimes I wander out of beaten ways, half looking for the orchid Calypso.”’
“Avery, that’s very pretty, but I told you, I love Joe.” Saying the words gave her a wicked thrill. Okay, it was lust, not love. But the lust was beginning to feel rather overpowering.
As usual, Avery ignored her. “I’ve been offered two tickets to The Producers for tonight.”
“I’ve already got a date.”
“With Joe?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s he taking you? I hope someplace that epitomizes a marvelous dining adventure. Have you tried that new French bistro on the Upper East Side? Très Appétissant.”
“We’re staying in tonight.” She maintained a meaningful silence, hoping he’d think that she and Joe would be having wild, passionate sex. She hoped that they would be having wild, passionate sex. Probably not yet, though. It was too soon. But when?
Avery coughed.
Enough about sex. “We’re renting a movie. Popcorn. Butter.”
“How bourgeois. I’m sure if Joe could afford better, he’d take you there.”
“Don’t be a snob, Avery. Everyone is an adult here.”
“I’m sorry, Amanda. I’ve never been a graceful loser. Not that I think the war is over, not by any stretch of the imagination. I have not yet begun to fight.”
That’s what she was afraid of. “Avery?”
“Yes?”
“I have a deposition to go to. I’ll talk to you
