Page 77 of Rulebreaker
“Anything you want, baby.” He presents the basket proudly. “But first, we should try these.” He plucks one out like he didn’t just spend a full two minutes fussing with them, and takes a bite. “Fuck, that’s good–here.” He proffers the roll and I obligingly open my mouth.
“Mmm, that’s amazing,” I murmur. “Whoever owns this recipe, I need to buy it if they’re not willing to give it to us.”
“I’m sure Jean-Michel will ask his housekeeper for us.” He smiles, taking another bite before holding it out for me.
I let the rich, warm, cinnamon flavor swirl around in my mouth. This is so good, and Atlas makesme so happy.
But we can’t keep living a lie. Well, I can’t. It’s time to yank up those imaginary big-girl panties I’m supposed to be wearing.
“Atlas, I have to tell you–”
“Hang on.” He pulls his phone from his pocket. “It’s Dash. Let me just make sure nothing’s happening with the family.”
“Of course.” I sink onto a stool at the island, absently sipping my coffee.
“Hey, what’s up?” He answers the phone casually, sitting on the stool next to me, and putting the last of the cinnamon roll in his mouth. “What?” He wipes his mouth and frowns. “What the hell are you talking about?” There’s a beat of silence. “No, I’m askingyouto explain.” His voice is definitely filled with a hint of annoyance now. “Dude, are you serious right now? Because if you’re trying to bust my balls I’m not laughing…” He glances at me and then looks away. “No, I’m not asking her–just spit it out.”
Asking her?!
Her who?
Her…me?
Uh oh.
An uncomfortable feeling settles in my gut. I wish I hadn’t left my phone in the bedroom but there really isn’t anyone I need to talk to while Atlas and I eat breakfast. In fact, there isn’t anyone I need to speak to until I have to meet back up with the tour.
Unless…
“You’re serious.” Atlas’s voice is as steely as I’ve ever heard it. Even his posture is different. It’s like someone stuck a rod into him, forcing him to be even stiffer and colder than he is at work. Something is definitely wrong, and based on the way he’s suddenly not looking at me, I must be theherin question.
Shit.
Did Dash go digging around in my past? There’s a tiny partof me deep down that’s always assumed Atlas went ahead and did a background check and already knows. He’s just been waiting for me to come clean. Like I’ve been about to do half a dozen times already.
The fury in his voice as he says, “No, I’ll deal with her” is enough to make my blood run cold.
I’m definitely theherin question.
And he’s definitely upset about something.
“Babe?” My voice sounds a little wobbly. “What, um, what’s wrong?”
He doesn’t respond right away, merely starts tapping something on his phone. He frowns, shakes his head, and then starts furiously typing. His phone buzzes and he begins drumming his fingers on the counter.
“Is this true?” he asks in a voice so cold I inadvertently shiver.
“Is what true?” I whisper, though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.
“Lily.” He turns and stares at me with an expression completely devoid of emotion. “Is. This. True.” He thrusts his phone at me and the words on the screen begin to swim.
Legendary Music Producer and Husband of Pop Star Lily Maxwell Has Stroke.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Atlas
I’m shaking,fury vibrating through every cell, every fiber of my being.
