Page 4 of Lust

Patty huffed. “Theatre to slit your wrists by.”

“There is such scope in the tragedies,” Lillian whispered, eyes alight with dangerous possibilities.

“King Lear,” Eddie yelled.

“Well, yes.” Bianca smiled at her.

Eddie steeled herself against that smile. Bianca needed to shut her mouth.

“But the lead female role is Cordelia, and she doesn’t have many lines.” Bianca went right on digging them into a deeper hole.

“Can’t have a geriatric Cordelia,” Patty said with a smirk at Lillian.

Peter threw up his hands. “I’ve got it.”

No, no, no, no, no. Eddie prayed to every saint she didn’t know and the two she did. Please say Hamlet, any of the kings, bloody Romeo & Juliet.

“Macbeth!” Peter beamed.

“No,” she bellowed, way past the point of subtle. “We can’t do Macbeth.” Not under any circumstances. The one rule even wild child Dee followed without question: Never do Macbeth at The Paradise Theatre.

“Oh, babe.” Tears swam in the jade depths of Lillian’s eyes. “Lady Macbeth is a wonderful role.”

“And you’d kill it.” Bianca led them straight into hell.

They’d all be dead if they did Macbeth. Eddie had to put a stop to this. Any play but Macbeth. “We can’t do Macbeth,” she yelled.

All gazes snapped her way, a range of expressions from bewildered to offended hit her all at once.

Lillian recovered first. “Why ever not?”

“Yes, Eddie.” Bianca cocked her head. Something flickered in her purple eyes and disappeared too fast for Eddie to identify.

“Not too long either,” Rodney said. “Less chance of people falling asleep in the middle.”

With all eyes still on her, Eddie panicked. “It’s bad luck. Everybody knows that.”

“Oh Edsie.” Lillian giggled. “Surely you don’t believe that old superstition.”

“A witch’s curse.” Bianca chuckled. “Especially when there’s no such thing as witches.”

Yes, Eddie did believe that superstition. Furthermore, combining the oh-so-real witch’s curse in Macbeth and the oh-so-vital fact that the Paradise Theatre was built right over a portal to hell, seemed like the worst idea she could imagine.

Lillian beamed at the table. “Shall we vote?”

Chapter

Two

Four days after losing the battle of Macbeth, Eddie still couldn’t reach Dee. And four long, sexy nights with wonder hot man glaring and simmering at her in her dreams had kept her tossing and turning.

Peter hadn’t hung about once the play selection was done, and already auditions for fucking, fuckity, fuck-fuck Macbeth were taking place in the theatre.

Not for Lady Macbeth—oh, no. Even worse. Today they were auditioning witches, and damnit why didn’t Dee answer her phone?

Edme hit her grandmother’s contact and waited for the call to connect.

Thank you, Jesus! It was ringing.

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