Page 132 of Love ad Lib
She stared at her friend. ‘That is the exact definition of freaking out, and to answer those questions, no, no and no.’
‘Oh my Christ,’ Claire exhaled, her hand on her heart.
Libby raised an eyebrow at the theatrics.
Claire put her hands in her lap. ‘Sorry. I am now calm and centred. Please continue.’
Libby’s gaze returned to the mug of tea. ‘You might have noticed the last few months I’ve been a little short of money.’
‘No shit—’ Claire stopped herself. ‘Yes, I have been aware. And concerned.’
Misery seeped into her every cell. She’d been a foolandshe’d made her friends worry.
‘The, er, situation is very bad. All of my savings are gone and I’m over ten grand in debt.’
Claire gasped.
‘Well, seven and a half grand after Henry paid half the fee upfront.’
‘And he’ll pay you the rest?’
‘I’m not going to accept it.’
‘What? Why not?’
‘Claire, I can’tpossiblyaccept it! We’re having sex now! If I took it, then it would be like I was a…’
‘Jesus, Libby!’
She sneaked a glance at her friend and Claire mimed zipping her lips shut.
‘Anyway.’ She sighed. ‘I’m in the shit because—’ She gulped in a breath. ‘I’ve been paying the rent on Lucas’s studio for over six months.’
Silence.
‘How much?’
‘Nearly twelve grand,’ she muttered.
‘And when is he planning on paying you back?’ Claire’s voice was ominously quiet.
‘He’s not,’ she whispered.
Claire’s promisenot to freak out lasted the amount of time needed for her to draw breath. Libby huddled in the corner of the sofa, her knees to her chest while her best friend paced the room screaming obscenities and making incredibly detailed plans for how she was going to cause Lucas extreme physical pain.
‘I knew something was wrong. I fuckingknewit!’ she yelled. ‘Cock-sucking son-of-a-bitch! Stringing you along, taking your food and your heart. Mother-fucker! I’m going to cut his arty-farty fuckboy dick off one centimetre at a time. With a rusty spoon! Then I’m going to shove his paintbrushes up his arse and sell his organs to get you your money back. Bastard!’
The door opened and Ritchie entered, Harper strapped to his chest.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked.
Claire burst into tears and ran to him. ‘Oh Ritchie, I’m so grateful to have you. I love you, baby.’ She peppered kisses over him and their daughter. ‘And you too, my sweet girl. I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you, ever.’
Ritchie looked over her shoulder at Libby, his eyes wide.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I’m the problem here.’
Claire’s head whipped around.
