Page 76 of The Write Stuff

“Why not?” Lucy whined.

“Because this is Wylie’s apartment,” Huxley replied before I could. “Her name is on the lease. She’s the one who actually pays the landlord.”

“But I’m saying, as somebody with a 50 percent stake in this place, that I deserve the bigger room 50 percent of the time.”

“It makes no sense to switch rooms,” Huxley shot back. “She’s got all her stuff set up in there, and it’s decorated how she likes it.”

“She can switch it back when it’s her turn.”

“No,” Huxley snapped. “This is her space. You moved in here and took up half her space, even though she didn’t invite you. You’re not taking her bedroom from her.”

“You don’t get a say in the matter,” Lucy growled. “This is between Wylie and me.” She adopted her best wheedling voice. “I wouldn’t be in your way if I had the bigger bedroom.”

The old me, the one who was determined to make sure Lucy never suffered, would have given in. This me, the person I was trying to be at least, wasn’t going to do it.

“You’re not paying 50 percent of the rent,” I volunteered out of nowhere. “You’re paying about a quarter of the rent.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lucy snapped. “I’m paying you 1,200 bucks a month.”

“And you think that you can rent a place like this in downtown Savannah for $2,400 a month?” Huxley challenged. “What world are you living in?”

I watched Lucy closely as she started doing the math. She looked to be struggling.

“You’re saying this place costs $4,800 a month?” she asked finally, her gaze landing on me.

“Actually, it’s $5,100,” I clarified.

“But, no way.” She vehemently shook her head. “That’s more than a house payment.”

“It is,” I agreed. “I do plan on getting a place of my own at some point, but when I was moving down here fresh, I figured it was better to rent for a few months. That way I could figure out what areas I liked the best and then start looking for something to buy in those areas.”

“But … that’s ridiculous,” Lucy persisted. “How can you afford to pay that?” She looked stricken. “Is Mom helping you?”

The mere insinuation bothered me. “I haven’t taken money from Mom since my first year out of college. She helped me get the down payment for my first apartment — which was a hole in the wall that she didn’t want me living in — and that was it.”

“No.” Lucy fervently shook her head. “She has to have been helping you otherwise.”

“She hasn’t.” I was firm. “I did it all on my own. Although she did help when it came to getting my first contract. She insisted I not use the attorney I found on the internet and instead loaned me her attorney, which saved me a great deal of money. He came back with a few corrections, so I’m glad it was him. I had a much better first contract than anybody else I know.”

Huxley’s hand moved over my back. He’d grown quiet but was offering his support in other ways.

“There’s no way,” Lucy persisted. “How could you have afforded that apartment you had in San Francisco without Mom? Even if your first contract was better than most, Mom told me that nobody gets rich off a first publishing contract.”

I ran my tongue over my lips and cast a glance toward Huxley, suddenly leery. “I had an alternative source of revenue,” I replied finally.

That wasn’t explanation enough for Lucy. “Meaning what?” she challenged.

“Yeah, what was your alternative source of revenue?” Huxley looked more amused than worried. “Were you a porn star and didn’t tell me? That explains a few things.”

I elbowed his side. “I wasn’t a porn star. I just … developed an app.”

Intrigue lit in his eyes, but he didn’t immediately say anything. Lucy was another story.

“Oh, you’re making that up,” she protested. “If you had started an app, Mom would have told me.”

“She didn’t know,” I replied. “I kept it to myself. I mean, I told her that I’d done something that was going to help me retire early, but I didn’t tell her what because … well, just because.”

Huxley leaned forward, forgetting his role of supportive boyfriend. “Oh, you have got to tell me what it is. I can’t not know.”