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“I get it.”
Becky is not an artist, but she has a vision for things.
“Your stories are like Twinkies. And you need to create your own recipe for a Red Velvet Cake.”
“Right.”
“With chocolate truffle layers.”
“Ha!”
“Then I’ll get you an editor, proofreader, formatter, cover designer, and we get it published. You have four hundred thousand followers on your social media, but they don’t know that you write, because you are embarrassed of your smutty stories.”
Right. My following is only for my art. My stories are a dark secret for a totally different audience.
“If we do it right, we can both make big money, Lu.”
I listen. Becky is business-savvy. There were times in college when she hustled, experimenting with different ways to make money on different platforms. “Testing the market,” she called it. Like the pictures of her feet that she sold on some shady website to the fetish patrons who paid thousands for them. Or the photos she took of the highly controversial local graffiti and sold to the top street apparel brands.
Becky comes from money, but she has a brilliant mind and is trying to hit a goldmine on her own.
“Me and Tito might swing by. Meanwhile, think about that book idea, Lu. And get more info on your shady roommate.”
I laugh. “He’s not shady, B.”
“Yet to be determined.”
She hangs up, and a sudden thought strikes me.
No way…
I go over every detail of Jace being in my condo and shake my head in disbelief.
Jace gave me the rent money, agreed to all the rules, helped me move things, and said he’ll officially move in tonight.
But during all that, I forgot the most important thing—to show him his room.
And he never asked…
5
JACE
“The bug is in,”I say reluctantly as Roey, Miller, and I sit around the coffee table in the Sheepshead Bay apartment.
I installed the bug in the living room lamp in case Reznik shows up. Did it while Lucy went to her room to get me the key to the condo. Felt like a dick about it, too.
“We need a bug in her bedroom, too,” Roey says indifferently like spying on people is a new normal.
I already feel shady as fuck for Miller going through her personal info.
“Not a chance,” I argue. “We can’t… It’s…”
Illegal, yes, but we use a lot of this stuff with high-stake criminals.Notpeople like Lucy. Does that makemea criminal?
“I’m moving in tonight,” I say, my body instantly tense.
It shouldn’t be a big deal, yet I feel awkward—no, correction—weirdas hell about becoming roommates with a girl.
