In the center of the table a platter beckoned, heaped high with doughnuts and pastries. Chocolate-filled, pink-frosted with sprinkles, glazed, garnished, studded with nuts. At least ten different varieties, all right in front of her and within easy reach of both hands.

She hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and she was starving. Doughnuts were her favorite. What could it hurt to take one? Who would care? For that matter, who would know?

Casually, Belinda glanced around. The room was empty. She was all alone with her morning meal of choice. A thick mug, filled to the brim with coffee and mellowed with cream and sugar, steamed at her elbow. She didn’t have to be anywhere for at least an hour. She could linger at the table and enjoy herself. The coffeepot held about three more cups. What could be better?

Her hand stretched out, reaching for the biggest bear claw, sugar-laden and pecan-encrusted. After she finished it off in four or less bites, she could take the pink-frosted with the sprinkles. It would go down nicely with her second cup of coffee.

Her lips parted, anticipating the first explosion of flavor on her tongue, fat and sugar and cinnamon. Her eyes gleamed with the kind of satisfaction that came from knowing heaven was just a swallow or two away.

Closer, closer. Her fingers were almost there—

And just before they could touch the thick, dripping-with-icing bear claw, Belinda swallowed the pool of saliva in her mouth, and jerked her hand away. Swinging it toward a bowl of fruit, she chose a banana.

Her heart wanted to break. She wanted to scream her frustration aloud, stomp her feet, pout worse than a toddler deprived of a favorite toy.

But she smiled bravely when she heard the disembodied voice of Katarina Vorst, the dietician assigned to her case, yell over the intercom. "Way to go, Belinda!" Behind the one-way glass of the mirror on the opposite wall, Belinda would bet the slender and pretty Katarina was punching a hand up in the air in victory.

Sure, easy for her to do. Skinny witch.

Offering another shaky smile toward the one-way mirror and the endlessly cheerful Katarina, Belinda peeled the banana and ate it slowly. Small bites, chew thoroughly between each one. Sips of coffee, equally-small. Smile, Belinda, smile. Think of all the good this banana is doing your body. Smile, Belinda—

She wanted to pop Katarina a good one, right between the eyes. She wanted to shove her own face into that platter of pastry and scarf it all up, until nary a crumb was left.

Instead, she ate her banana with dainty precision, chewed each bite the way she had been instructed, and pretended she was eating the bear claw. It was hard to envision. But she did it.

Finishing the piece of fruit, Belinda poured another cup of coffee, this time stingy on the cream and sugar. She selected a hard-boiled egg and peeled it as carefully as she’d peeled her banana. A touch of salt from the little shaker on the table, and she was ready to ‘enjoy’ her second course. Mmm, mmm, good.

She lusted for the pink-frosted sprinkled fatty pastry. She despised eggs. As she forced the nasty thing down, she fumed silently, God, how I hate eggs...

She was also paying four hundred dollars a month out of pocket for the program Katarina Vorst and others here at the Middleton Institute offered. Thank heavens eighty percent of the total cost was covered by her insurance, otherwise she’d never have been able to afford it.

But the program was amazing: intensive weight loss using sensible means, no surgery and no diet pills. Vitamins, a regimented and controlled fitness program, lots of fresh vegetables and fruit. Around-the-clock support. This was her last chance; she’d tried everything else. Including all the heavy-duty supplements on the market that she knew damned well were dangerous to her body, her health. Including every fad, every silly food combination out on the Internet. She’d done them all.

This was her last chance, she repeated to herself, as she had done every day since beginning this torture. Reminders. Scolding. Pep talks.

Lies, all lies.

Belinda nibbled doggedly at the rest of the egg. Finished her coffee. And lied through her teeth yet again when Katarina bounded energetically into the room and demanded to know how wonderful she felt, eating that healthy breakfast, instead of the fatty pastry! Didn’t she feel great? Wasn’t she so proud of herself?

"Yes. Proud. Whoo-hoo." The ‘whoo-hoo’ fell short but Belinda did produce one brief, more-or-less sincere, eggy grin.

She ignored the little voice in her head that ordered her to drop what was left of the egg, and strangle Katarina. She could hide the body beneath the pile of fat and sugar-infested nirvana sitting a few feet from her nose. No one would ever convict her, especially if she were tried by a jury of her peers—and they all weighed two hundred pounds or more.

Better yet, no one would think to look for Katarina under a plate of pastry. Everyone knew she wouldn’t be caught dead near something so fattening. Katarina was a dedicated nutritionist and thus beyond the insidious grasp of such unhealthy fare. Plus the woman had the kind of willpower that boggled the mind. Instead of plotting to kill her, Belinda would be better off trying to emulate her.

Katarina dropped into the seat next to Belinda, her pale brown ponytail bouncing on her shoulder, and reached into her pocket for the little notepad she always kept there. Belinda groaned under her breath as she grabbed a napkin and wiped her fingers and mouth. Here we go. Time for the portion of her treatment that she hated the most: analyzing her feelings. What did she think when she saw that big dish of temptation? How did she feel when she chose the banana instead of what she really wanted? Did she think she was doing her body good? Did she feel more energized? Empowered?

Belinda felt cheated. Every single day. Not empowered. Not a damned bit energized, either. Just tired. Despondent. And always cheated.

But she’d lost eighteen pounds. She supposed that was something to cheer about, a reason to punch her own fist into the air in victory.

When Katarina asked her how she felt when she took the banana instead of the bear claw, Belinda started to say what she figured the other woman wanted to hear. Mostly lies.

Then her shoulders slumped as she looked into her dietician’s beaming face. She rubbed a hand over her hair, clenched her fingers into its thickness, once. And admitted baldly, "I felt cheated, Katarina. I’m angry. And I’m still hungry."

Instead of being shocked, Katarina leaned back in her seat, nodded and retorted, "About time you gave me an honest answer. Now we’re getting somewhere."

"Huh?"

"You’re not supposed to feel great about losing out on the food you really wanted. Not yet, anyhow. You’re supposed to feel resentful. When I first gave up the sugar and fat that I craved, I wanted to rip everyone’s head off."

Belinda’s jaw dropped. She looked Katarina up and down, seeing a tight, slender body with great muscle definition. She stammered, "You were overweight?"

"Overweight?" Katarina snorted. "Oh, if only. I was obese. I was a hundred pounds over the max allowance for my height and bone structure and headed for heart trouble and diabetes. The Middleton Institute was my last chance."

She dropped the little notebook back into her shirt pocket, tossed the pen on the table. Spoke briskly. "I came here, had a couple of false starts, and it took two years to shed the weight. When I reached goal, I was offered a job as one of their fitness techs, and I’ve been here ever since. I was promoted to dietician five months ago." She patted Belinda’s shoulder reassuringly. "It will happen. You just have to let yourself believe it."

Then she grinned mischievously. "And stop looking at your dietician as if you’d like to murder her."

Belinda ducked her head, mortified. "You saw that?" How embarrassing.

"I saw that. You have a very expressive face." Katarina pointed to the one-way mirror and laughed at the flush that crept over Belinda’s cheeks. "You will get there. I promise. In the meantime, eighteen pounds is nothing to sneeze at, and you did very well today."

"Thanks." Belinda meant it. And she had to wonder at the warm fuzzy she got from a compliment instead of coming from some kind of sugar and fat high.

Well, it was a start.