Page 10 of Brooklyn Cupid

“So, I’m coming back this evening,” he says as he texts, and I hand him the key to the condo.

Our eyes snap to the key then to each other.

“See you, roommate,” I say.

He grins. “Yeah, roommate,” he echoes, and when he leaves, the butterflies in my stomach are having an orgy.

I have Jace’s phone number and the picture of his ID. His info is at the front desk downstairs. This feels… like a relationship. I’m being silly, of course.

I call Becky.

“B, I have a roommate!” I announce excitedly but with slight nervousness, because Becky always insists on giving an opinion about everything I dobeforeI do it. Usually, I listen. But this whole roommate thing happened too fast.

“Who is she?”

“It’s a he.”

“What? Lu! Someone you know?”

“I just met him last night.”

“Girl, what the fuck?”

Becky starts lecturing me, and my mood falls.

She might be right. I do get excited about new things easily before I give myself time to think them over. I generally like people while Becky is suspicious of everyone.

That’s Becky, my best friend. Coincidentally, also my agent.

“Alright, I wanna meet this Jace Reed,” she says. “I’ll give you my unbiased opinion and make sure you’re safe, considering you met him on the street. If I sense anything shady, you are kicking him out.”

“I took a picture of his driver’s license, though I couldn’t find anything about him online.”

“Yeah, suspicious. You are too trusting, Lu.”

Helookstrustful, I want to argue. But that’s Becky—meticulous and organized, also with a maternal attitude toward me despite being only a few years older.

“By the way, I need to see more paintings for your upcoming exhibition.”

“I’m on it, B. I just have too many things going on.”

“Don’t you always?”

Thank God for Becky. She hooked me up with the gallery. She’ll take a percentage of my art sales. She’s also trying to get me to publish a book. My Story Den spicy romance stories are getting more popular, and the bounties and commissions I get from the increasing views are getting higher.

“You need to up your writing game, Lu.”

Yeah, that, too.

If art is supposed to be my big ticket, writing is my bread and butter. Or at least bread, generic and on sale.

“Lu, spicy romance is the queen these days. But you need to create an unforgettable character that sticks. A good story to go with it. Chemistry.”

“I know, B,” I huff in frustration.

Erotica shorts are not even my thing, but I’ve read enough of those and started writing while I was in college, trying to make extra cash. I have a small following, but my stories are no different from the gazillion other ones out there.

“I know you have it in you, Lu. YourBeautiful Vicemafia romance about Konstantin and Eva is a huge step up. So rinse and repeat, but up the game, dial up the smut, and use all that richness of colors you are so good with in painting. You know what I mean? Writing needs color. Get it?”

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