A Margin of Lust (The Seven Deadly Sins #1)(48)

"Children are suspended all the time," Millie continued. "Well, not all the time, but frequently enough. Brian had been in three fights on the playground."

The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. Art had suspended Brian. Gwen hadn't known that.

"Just because Dwayne Pratt is a bully doesn’t give Brian a pass. He should have asked for assistance from his teachers." Millie was on a roll now. "The child, poor soul, needs to acquire some self-discipline. I only pray he comes out of this well enough to learn it."

Understanding and sympathy welled up within Gwen. Of course, the Pratts, the bane of Art's existence. He had probably already been questioning his motives for suspending Brian; then the boy had gone and gotten hit by a truck.

This explained so much. Art was in pain, and she knew from long experience when he was in pain he withdrew. She had assumed the distance between them was all about her, or all about Lorelei.

Shame burned her cheeks. They say blondes think the world revolves around them. In fact, this redhead had done a pretty good job of setting herself up as the planetary axis. She wanted to find Art, to ask his forgiveness.

"Do you know where he is, Millie?" Gwen asked.

"He said He was going to Enzo's to grab a slice of pizza for lunch."

"Thanks." Gwen rushed from the office and pulled out of the parking lot in the direction of Enzo's.

#

The parking lot was full with lunch crowd vehicles. Gwen circled several times before she remembered there were spaces behind the building. She cut between Enzo's and a florist shop into a service alley and parked next to a Honda with a pizza-shaped flag attached to its passenger side window.

She picked her way around cast-off cardboard boxes and stacks of pallets. The bright sunlight dimmed as she made a right into the shade of the narrow passageway between the establishments. It took her eyes a moment to adjust. A few yards in, she saw a door opened to the alley. It must be the restaurant's rear exit. As she drew closer, she heard murmurs coming from the doorway—a man's voice low and pleading, a woman crying.

Gwen stopped, not wanting to intrude on what sounded like a lover's quarrel. She stood in indecision, wondering if there was another path around the building, or if she should clear her throat and let the couple know someone was coming. Before she could do either, they came into view.

The woman was petite, blond, and attractive, even with mascara tracks decorating her cheeks. She was dressed in black jeans and an Enzo's t-shirt. She looked familiar. Gwen thought she had waited on them once or twice when the family had gone in for dinner. The man's back was to her, but she had no trouble recognizing him.

It was Art.

Art.

What the hell was Art doing in an alley with a blond waitress whose name Gwen couldn't remember? She couldn't hear their conversation. But based on the emotion on the woman's face and her tears, it seemed intense and very personal.

Neither of them had noticed Gwen. She stepped behind a Dumpster located against the wall of the flower shop. She needed a minute to process.

Art. In an alley. With a waitress.

Was Art was having an affair after all? She put a hand to her chest and covered her heart. She might have imagined Art running around with the school counselor, but this was so in her face. For some reason a fling with a complete stranger seemed an even greater betrayal.

A waitress did make a weird kind of sense, however. Art liked to be the hero. He loved to champion the cause of the underdog. If he were to be tempted into adultery, it would most likely be disguised by a virtuous cause—a damsel in distress. Based on the emotions echoing through the alley, this damsel qualified.

Even though the idea he was cheating had teased around in her brain, Gwen hadn't believed it. Not really. Seeing her husband with another woman didn't compute. It was surreal.

Think, Gwen. Think. Her hand moved from her chest to her forehead and massaged her temples. She'd spent the ten minutes it had taken her to drive here berating herself for jumping to hasty conclusions, for being self-centered, for taking five hundred dollars out of their savings without telling Art. It had been a very uncomfortable ten minutes. She didn't want to repeat them.

Gwen had no idea why Art was in deep conversation with the waitress. Maybe she was the parent of a St. Barnabas student who wasn't doing well. Probably not. Private school generally wasn't an option for someone at the bottom rung of the service industry. Besides, your kid's poor grades didn't usually make you sob in an alley.

Maybe the woman had applied for a teaching position at the school, and Art had told her she wouldn't be getting the job. That was a possibility. It was pretty unprofessional of her to get so emotional, but who knew what her financial situation was? The point was, there were any number of scenarios that would cover the scene before her. Why assume the worst?

Gwen's hand dropped to her side, and she straightened her spine. She would step out from behind the Dumpster and greet them as if nothing was wrong. Because as far as she knew, nothing was. Think the best. Believe the best. Wasn't that Biblical? She'd step out and...

Wait. How would she explain why she was hiding behind a Dumpster?

She slumped against the wall of the florist shop and stared at her feet. The sound of Art's voice rose and fell. She caught a word here and there: "sorry", "my fault", "important to me", "anything for you". It was that last phrase, "anything for you", that revived her fears.