A Margin of Lust (The Seven Deadly Sins #1)(39)

"I'd better get the signs up." Lance wiped the donut crumbs from his hands onto his pants and walked out of the kitchen.

"Do you need help with anything?" Taryn said.

"No, I think I'm good." Gwen smiled at her. Taryn never showed up at her agents' open houses, but then none of her agents ever had a multi-million dollar, beachfront listing in Laguna before. Gwen could tell she wanted to stay and make sure she and Lance didn't screw things up.

"Let's get going then," Eric said. "I want to stop by a couple of other places on our way out of town if that's okay with everybody."

The watchful silence of the house closed around Gwen when the agents left. She felt the raw edge of claustrophobia and hurried to the living room to look out at the ocean. The view from the windows usually had a calming effect on her, but while they'd been in the kitchen drinking coffee and eating donuts, a fog had blown in. The house was now shrouded in gray. The line between sea and sky invisible. She'd heard a storm front was moving in next week.

Gwen shivered.

Caroline was right. The place was creepy. They could groom it, put a bow on it, but she still didn't trust it. Once you've been bitten, it was wise to be wary.

She wished Lance would get back, but she knew he'd be a while. He had to pound in signs on the highway, north and south, and up and down all the neighboring streets. It was strange how much she'd come to rely on him even though they'd only been working together a short time. Well, not that surprising really.

Art had always been her rock—solid support, the one she depended on. Not lately. The nasty voice she'd been trying to ignore since she'd seen him and Lorelei together on the steps of St. Barnabas earlier that week crept into her mind. She's younger. She's adoring. He won't be able to resist her. She was tired of quieting that voice, of fighting it. What if he did leave her for Lorelei?

Gwen was about to sell the most expensive property of her career. Granted, she had to split the commission with Lance, but it was still a hefty sum. One listing at this price point would lead to others too. Real estate was all about groups and communities. Neighbors and buyers with a lot of money to spend would be stopping by today along with the curious and the lookie-loos.

This house, as difficult and traumatic as it had been, was an incredible opportunity. She wouldn't be dependent on the generosity of her ex-husband like her mother had been. Not that she thought Art was actually going to become an ex-husband, but she needed to look at the worst-case scenario, face her fears.

If Art left her, she'd be okay. She'd found a profession she was good at, and she had a partner. Her face softened when she thought of Lance. Not romantic thoughts. He was younger. Probably not interested anyway. But it was nice to have someone to rely on.

"Anybody home?" A voice, loud and male, made her jump. Mo stood behind her under the arched entrance to the living room. She'd forgotten she called and rescheduled the food for today.

"You startled me."

"Sorry. The door was open. I let myself in."

"That's okay. Can I help you carry?" Gwen pulled herself together.

"I've already unloaded."

Covered cheese platters were stacked on the counter in the kitchen next to plates of chocolate covered strawberries and fruit pastries. "There's a case of wine with four varietals in it—three of each. The pinot noir goes with the sharp cheddar, the Riesling with the Camembert. The Cabernet is for the chocolate, and the Viognier for the peach tartlets." He opened the top of a box on the floor to show her the wines inside.

"How long have you been here?" Gwen was surprised she hadn't heard him come in and out. He had to have made at least two trips.

"Long enough to unload." He flashed his teeth in what Gwen supposed was a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Well, I'd better be pushing on."

Gwen walked him to the front door and watched him disappear through the gate. She turned and faced the entryway. "It's just you and me again," she said. Her voice reverberated through the still house.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


Lance returned with some of the neighbors in tow—an older couple, both with short, tousled gray hair, dressed in running shoes and walking shorts. Gwen watched them as they traversed the courtyard, laughing with Lance as if they were old friends.

"We've been wondering what was going on around here this week," the man said.

"We figured all the banging and buzz saws must mean something good," the wife said.

"There's a lot more that needs doing, but we did fix things up a bit. Come on in." Lance ushered them forward with an extended arm.

"Welcome." Gwen plastered her best real estate agent smile on her face.

"This is my partner in crime, Gwen Bishop. Gwen, meet Bob and Betty, from three doors down." Lance made introductions.

While Bob and Betty toured the lower story of the house, Gwen and Lance retired to the kitchen. Every new agent learned in Open-house 101 that etiquette demanded you allow the potential client to wander through the property alone. You made yourself available to answer questions when and if you were needed.

"I think we're going to be busy." Lance poured himself a cup of coffee. "This house is kind of famous with the murder and all. Lots of curious people."