A Margin of Lust (The Seven Deadly Sins #1)(11)

"It could be a coincidence," Gwen said without conviction.

"The police are being quiet. No details. But she was found in an empty, oceanview house. What do you want to bet she was naked and all sliced up? It's him again. I know it."

Gwen reached out a hand and squeezed her friend's arm. "Look, it's upsetting. It's bad. But forewarned is forearmed, right? We know he's out there. We can take precautions."

Maricela rested her head in her hands. "I'm scared. It feels personal. Like he's after me."

"But he's not. Who knows what he's after, but what this tells us is it isn't personal. Two different agents. Two different towns. He's an opportunist, and you and me, we're not going to give him an opportunity."

Maricela stared at her desktop without speaking.

"Look, I've got to go. I'm already late for an appointment. It's Friday. Let's go over to the Barrel and get a glass of wine tonight after work. We can talk more."

On her way to Dana Point, Gwen tried to shake off the sense of dread that followed her from the office. She needed to focus.

She wanted a strong offer on the Dana Point house before the Frobishers returned from Europe. Arnold and Etta were qualified, motivated buyers. She should be excited, but she disliked dealing with the man. She exited the San Diego Freeway onto the Coast Highway and wondered, as she often did when life was difficult, how different things might have been if she'd pursued her early dreams.

She remembered the exact moment she'd set her goal of an acting career aside.

She and Art had been engaged for two months. He was working at St. Barnabas, teaching high school English, and she was about to graduate with a degree in Drama from UC Irvine.

Gwen was performing in a montage of one-act plays at the college. Art attended. After the event, he took her out for a late dinner at a pub near the campus theater.

Gwen didn't notice his mood immediately. She was excited, riding the adrenaline high she always felt after a performance. But after receiving only monosyllabic responses to her enthusiasm, she stopped talking and looked more closely at him. Art loved to discuss all forms of literature, but tonight he was silent.

"Are you sick?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"What's with you then?"

"Hmph."

"Didn't you like the show? I thought you'd love it. There was humor, but it was thoughtful. When you realize, at the end, that the old man in the wingback chair is really the little boy from the first vignette, I mean, that got you didn't it? It got me when I read the script."

"Yeah, it was good."

"It was good? That's it? I thought it was borderline brilliant."

"Right." Art almost snapped at her. Art never snapped at her.

"Okay, maybe not brilliant, but the best thing we did all year," Gwen said, hurt.

A stony silence dropped between them. The waitress, a girl Gwen knew from the Dance department, walked up to the table with feet locked in first position. She placed burgers in front of them.

"How was the play?" she asked and leaned onto one leg so the other toe could rise to full pointe.

"Great, it went great." Gwen beamed an exaggerated smile in her direction.

"I'm coming tomorrow night," the waitress said. "I have to write papers about three live performances this semester."

Gwen waited until the waitress sashayed away. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to guess?"

Art looked her in the eye for the first time since they'd sat down. "I don't think I can do this."

"Do what?" A cold finger poked at Gwen's stomach. She pushed her burger into the center of the table.

"I know it's silly. Not sophisticated. Small minded."

"What is?"

Art drew designs in his ketchup with a French fry for an annoying number of minutes before he said, "I hate watching you kiss other guys."

It wasn't what she expected. Gwen had thought he was going to break up with her, ask for the ring back. In many ways, she felt he was too good to be true and maybe too good for her. He was smart, handsome, kind and five years older— just old enough to engender a schoolgirl crush. But this, this she didn't know what to do with.

"But, you've been to my perfor—"

"I know. That's why it's so miserable of me to say this now. I've known all along you want to be an actress. It's just... well, everybody wants to be an actor, you know?"

"So, you didn't think I would make it? Is that what you're saying?" Gwen's voice rose. A couple at the next table glanced over.

"No, honestly, I guess I didn't, or maybe I hoped you wouldn't. But, tonight, you were so good."

Gwen softened. "Thank you for your half-assed compliment, I think."

"That movie we saw Thursday, the love scenes, the actors were all over each other. I put you in that bed and me in the audience. I couldn't stand it, watching you rolling around naked with some buff actor. It was the first time I thought about it."

"I won't do nude scenes. I told you that," Gwen said, trying to lighten the mood.

Art's eyes lifted to her face, "Technically, it wasn't a nude scene. We couldn't see anything with them lying on top of each other."