Ten minutes later, my guts spilled, I suck back my citrusy “Liquid Lust” through a tube attached to an IV bag on a stand and await Amanda’s analysis. She delicately sips her “Nitro Margarita” and considers my predicament, while at the same time scoping out the bar for potential sleeping partners. After I’ve pointed out the few actual doctors in the bar, she zeroes in on her target and lines him up with a flirtatious wink.

“What about Jake?” I suck back another shot and choke as the burst of sugary sweetness shoots down my throat. Someone forgot to turn the tap to low. Drips are supposed to drip.

Amanda sighs and almost immediately I sense she is hiding something. “I spent all night trying to get him to spill Torment’s true identity. A waste of time since you found out anyway. Finally I called it quits and told him we needed a break.”

“Amanda! You’re punishing him for playing by the rules.”

She gives me an evil grin. “He’s being trained. When he’s with me, the only rules he needs to follow are Amanda’s rules. Don’t worry. I’ll only leave him hanging for another day. I don’t want to have a dry weekend, and since I don’t plan on being able to walk when he’s done apologizing, I want to get the apology over with sooner rather than later so I can recover by Monday.”

My cheeks flame and Amanda laughs. “You’re too easy to embarrass. A little sexperience is all you need to cure that blushing problem. Speaking of which—” She pokes me hard in the shoulder. “Why didn’t you invite Max in on Monday night?”

“I didn’t get a chance. He kissed me and then ran off to catch a flight. Plus, I was covered in potatoes. It kind of spoiled the mood.”

A waitress in green operating room scrubs stops at our table, and Amanda buys a few shots of “Tetra-Ouzo” in ready-to-administer, guaranteed-hygienic syringes. We take turns giving each other our “medicine.” Within twenty minutes, I’m feeling the buzz.

“Why do you think he didn’t show?”

Amanda fluffs her hair and pulls out her makeup bag—sure signs she is getting ready to go on the prowl. I follow suit, preparing to be the dutiful, tagalong friend who laughs at her jokes, checks out the guy, and entertains any of his annoying friends.

“If his tongue almost hit your tonsils, then he definitely wants to see you again. Tongue depth is a very accurate indicator of male interest.” She slaps her cheeks repeatedly until they are pink and swollen and then pulls out a tiny fly swatter to swat her lips. She offers the torture device to me, but I wave her away.

“I swatted at home, thanks.”

Amanda runs the lipstick over her plump lips and rubs them together. “I’d say whatever held him up wasn’t his fault.”

“I’m not sure,” I sigh. “I got a funny feeling after he left. Like I was a deal he had just closed. Even though he took off his shirt and tie, he was still half dressed in his suit and he was different—very focused and demanding. Hard.”

Amanda twists her lips to the side. “That doesn’t sound good.”

My eyes widen. “YOU don’t think it sounds good. Now I know I’m in trouble.”

She pats my hand and offers me another shot. “Let me think about it. Right now, I’m a bit distracted by the blond Adonis staring at us.”

I follow the direction of her gaze and freeze. My breath catches in my throat. “It’s Doctor Drake. Hide me. Don’t let him see me.” I try to slide under the table, but Amanda grabs my hand.

“Too late. He’s on his way over. Pull up those big girl panties and paste on your best smile. If Max did dump you, here comes your second chance.”

“He doesn’t do it for me,” I moan. “I know he’s a gorgeous heart surgeon with an amazing body, and he’s gone out of his way to offer to help me, but he doesn’t make me tingle all over the way Max does. He’s…safe and comfortable. Like…home.”

“Are you insane?” Amanda hisses. “He is totally YUMMY and I’ve suddenly got a fever only a doctor can cure.” She fans herself with a paper napkin.

“What happened to my girl-time relaxation?”

Amanda’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? You want girl-time relaxation when you could have him?”

Dr. Drake approaches the table, Amanda fluffs her br**sts. I try to keep down the excessive quantity of alcohol I have just consumed on an empty stomach. Amanda’s actions do not go unnoticed. Dr. Drake’s eyes travel from her lips down to her chest and back again. He is wearing a lab coat over a white T-shirt, and a pair of tight blue jeans. He looks good. Too good. Like a soap opera doctor. But he has nothing on Max.

“He’s all yours, but I think he might be more than even you can handle.” I shove the IV tube in my mouth and take a big sip.

Amanda gives me a sideways glance and snorts. “No one has even come close. Except maybe Jake. But, since we’re on a break, I’m free for a little examination.”

“Mac, I thought that was you.” Dr. Drake drags his eyes off Amanda’s br**sts and stares at the tube in my mouth. He reaches over to turn off the tap on my drip. “IVs have to be carefully monitored; otherwise, the patient might overdose.”

“Some patients want to overdose.” I turn the drip back on. Amanda splutters beside me. So what if I’m not being classy? He touched my drip.

“She’s not thinking clearly,” Amanda chimes in, patting my back. “She’s inebriated because she had a hard week.”