Page 31 of Unwritten Rules

Her voice is filled with her usual mischief and barely suppressed laughter.

I fake pout. “For the record, I did need you, Els. I called you well over a week ago.”

All traces of mirth disappear from her tone as I return to the tub and swirl my hand through the warm, sudsy water.

“Oh, Mila. I’m sorry. I’ve just been so caught up with work and school…time gets away from me, I suppose.” She heaves a heavy sigh, blowing it out before continuing. “I’m so fucking sorry. Is it too late to help now?”

A frog appears in my throat at her concern, despite my initial jokey intentions. If she knew what had happened, heads would fucking roll.

Best keep it quiet, then.

“I’m just kidding. I know you’re a busy bee. My little miss social butterfly.”

Eliza had been accepted to the Pearson School of the Arts in New York a couple of months previously, and to say I’ve missed her would be a gigantic understatement.

My bestie giggles prettily as I flip her onto speakerphone, set my phone on the counter, and begin to strip off my clothes upon seeing the bath is almost ready.

And I can’t freaking wait.

“What’s so funny?”

“You. Calling me a social butterfly. I don’t have time for a social life, Mils. I’m working a double shift tonight and absolutely must have a three-page monologue memorised for class tomorrow.”

She heaves another deep sigh as I drop my t-shirt to the floor, tugging my pants and panties down my legs to abandon them beside the rest of my stuff.

“Seriously, Eliza Jane Harper. Will you please, please, pretty please, with sugar on top, allow me to pay for something? Anything! The fact that you’ve been accepted to one of the most competitive drama schools in the entire world is amazing. You shouldn’t need to work so much to cover the additional costs after tuition.”

“No! And let that be the end of it, Mila DeMarco.”

My best friend’s firm, highly uncharacteristic declaration hangs between us on the line.

And I know she’s reliving that day two years ago when her father spun her whole world upside-down. The day the debt collectors came to take everything that Declan Harper had lost in a series of bad investments using other people’s money.

The day she’d found him in their attic. Too afraid to live with the repercussions of what he’d done, instead leaving his only daughter broke and alone.

Which had made her acceptance to Pearson all the more spectacular. For the auditions, she’d accepted Henry’s insistence that she use the jet to attend. I’d accompanied, obviously, and we’d stayed at the penthouse in Manhattan.

But when the time came to move there for the next four years, she insisted on being self-sufficient, refusing to take any handouts, claiming she was as far removed from her fraudulent father as possible.

“Fine, you win.” I huff as I reach to turn off the taps, the tub having filled almost to overflowing. Just the way I like it.

“Now, enough about that. You must have some news or gossip for me from sunny old England.”

I squint my eyes in contemplation, deciding to give her a brief overview, so it’s not a lie, more like an omission.

“I’ve transferred to Walden-Forbes in Surrey. Starting tomorrow!”

Her scream travels down the line, reverberating around the bathroom, and I have no doubt if I’d left the phone at my ear instead of its current speakerphone, I’d be entirely deaf from her high-pitched squeal.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God! Mila DeMarco, you sneaky bitch. Does Professor Hawthorne know you’ve transferred?”

Her question elicits a much louder than required snort.

“Funny you mention that, Els. I’m naked in his bathroom as we speak.”

I press my lips together tightly, the visual image in my head of her facial expressions making me want to laugh so badly.

“Umm, okay. Firstly, eww. Gross. Don’t answer the phone naked the next time. That’s just nasty. Secondly, how big is his dick because that man gives me BDE vibes all damn day? And third—”