Page 2 of Rewrite the Rules

We all whip our heads around to stare at Reese.And how in the hell would you know that?She’s suddenly very interested in the overhead lighting and can’t possibly tear herself away from the water-stained ceiling to meet our accusing scrutiny.

“Anyways…I digress. Birthdays are a perfect justification for over-the-top celebrations.”

“Booooo!” Quinn points her thumb to the ground. Her tongue vibrates against her bottom lip. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her blow a raspberry in our near eight years of best-friendship. That was…uncomfortably unnatural. “I turned twenty-eight. That’s not an accomplishment. You wrote awholebook.Thatis celebration worthy.”

“It’s not my book.”

Noa shakes my shoulders, causing my crossed arms to fall then dangle at my sides. “To us, it will always beyourbook.” She points to the table, which is covered in a feisty, hot-pink, lace cloth. It complements the book that is propped up and displayed, front and center.Toy With Me—the culprit of all this unnecessary fuss—is the erotic romance novel that I ghostwrote for one of the most celebrated contemporary romance authors of our time.

I gave this project my all. My everything.

Toy With Meis all I ate, slept, and breathed for the better part of nine months. I obsessed from conception to its birth—launch day two weeks ago. Call it a writer’s pregnancy, and now all that’s left are the blues—no baby. In the end, I had merely been the surrogate and I had to let it go.

Now, I need my friends to do the same.Let. It. Go.

“What did you guys do to this?” I pick up the paperback book and examine the damage. Tessa Rayne’s headshot has been covered with an extra copy of my passport photo, taped securely on the back left corner. I flip the book around and Tessa’s name on the bottom of the front cover is crossed out with a thick black line. ‘Adler Haley’ is scrawled just above in a perfect artistic calligraphy—Noa’s handwriting no doubt. “You guys defiled this thing!”

“We rectified a typo,” Reese grunts as she pushes on the stubborn side of a cork. “They got the author’s name wrong.”

The bottle of champagne pops with the expected bravado, but she lets out a girly squall anyways. The top ricochets off the wall on the far side of the room and the foam topples out of the bottle. The foamy mess engulfs Reese’s hand before dripping onto the floor.

“Dammit, Reese!” Quinn gathers a few hot-pink napkins and throws them on the floor to sop up the mess.

“Whoops,” Reese mumbles but is clearly unconcerned with the spillage. She tops off the neatly lined champagne glasses that are already half filled with fuchsia-colored liquid.

Noa grabs the flute closest to her. “I’ll call Mani.”

I sneak in a panoramic glance at my best friends and let the velvety warmth of emotion bundle me. My tribe. My only real family. The beautiful, strong, brave women who I attempt to emulate every single day. And fail miserably at.

Clink, clink, clink.

Reese taps her hard acrylic fingernail against her champagne glass, commanding our attention. “Cheers to a successful launch ofToy With Me. Over one hundred and fifty thousand copies sold thus far, which would be an impossible feat for anyone other than this sexy little piece right here.” Reese nods at me, pinches her fingers together at her lips, and kisses them. “Bear. You’re a visionary.”

“Tessa has a well-established brand and a solid marketing team. It’s a science, guys. It had nothing to do with me.”

Reese sucks the air in between her teeth. “This hell-bent humility thing isn’t cute on you.”

“Oh, blow me—”

“Ahem.” Noa clears her throat as loudly as her sugar-sweet voice can manage. Invasive isn’t natural for her. “To our dearest little Baby Bear, best-selling author of the most sensual, sassiest, emotionally riveting book of the year. No...decade. No, century—”

“Oh, come on!” My shrieky tone is off-putting. Reese might be right. My whining is unadorable.

Noa continues anyways. “Toy With Meis modern-day poetry.”

“Modern-day poetry? There is a picture of a vibrator on the cover.” I really doubt Frost, Dickinson, or Poe would allow an image of a vibrating rabbit—platinum edition—to front the cover of their antique collections.

Pausing humility for the briefest of moments, there’s no denyingToy With Me’s success went eons beyond my wildest imagination. It’s still too hard to wrap my head around, maybe because technically, I can’t claim it asmysuccess.

“Thank you, guys. Truly. But we agree this stays between us, right? I’m locked under contracts and NDAs that I’m sure I’ve already violated by telling you all.” I squirm, remembering the phone conversation I had with Tessa’s lawyers. There was less tension at the red wedding inGame of Thrones. Tessa is a kind-hearted and generous soul. Her lawyers on the other hand guard the gates of hell with bloodthirsty hounds, eager to attack for the slightest indiscretion.

“So, this can’t go on my grid, Addie?” I flinch when Mani’s voice rings through the FaceTime screen. For a moment I forgot she was there.

“No!”

“What about an Instagram story? It’s temporary.”

I scowl at the iPad screen. “No, Mani. I already told you, vault! Out of the question. Hell no.”

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