Page 31 of Rulebreaker
“It’s a very special kind of truffle. Comes from France. Come on–it’s rich. And I don’t need the calories.” I open the box and gently lift the piece of chocolate onto a napkin. Desi produces a plastic knife and I manage to cut it into four pieces.
Flo eyes the piece she picks up warily. “I don’t know that I’d spend that kind of money on a damn piece of chocolate.”
“Even I don’t indulge often,” I admit, popping my half into my mouth. “Fuck…that’s good.”
Flo and Desi are more tentative but then Flo’s eyes close and she literally moans.
“Sweet baby Jesus in a manger in Nazareth…”
“Holy fucking shit,” is all Desi can say.
“What’d I tell you?” I ask with a grin.
“Seriously,” Desi says. “If you don’t want this guy, I do. Will you introduce us? Because if this is what it’s like to date someone uber-rich, I’m in. I don’t even care if he’s old.”
“He’s definitely not old,” I murmur, smiling.
No, Atlas isn’t old.
He’s gorgeous. Thoughtful. Smart. Successful. Hung like the proverbial horse.
And lordy, does he know his way around a woman’s body.
He ticks every one of my boxes.
So despite my best intentions, I know I’m going to reach out. Thank him. Maybe even do something I’m going to regret.
I just can’t seem to help myself.
Dammit, Atlas–what are you doing to me?
ELEVEN
Atlas
I grindmy teeth together so tightly that a bolt of pain shoots through my jaw.
But it’s a far cry better than letting out the rant that’s currently pounding through my mind–mainly telling the blowhard to shut the fuck up, to stop posturing, and to get to the damned point so we can all get the hell out of here.
Alas, even if I got out of this meeting early, it’s not like I’m going home.
I have five more meetings before my day is done.
Another zing of pain has me refocusing on the presentation–instead of my calendar–but my attention only lingers for a few moments. Long enough to clock that he’s still posturing, still blustering, still not getting to the point–only now the tortuous trio is accompanied by a PowerPoint presentation.
Fucking kill me.
I’m the boss–I can cancel this meeting, the five others following, can say fuck it and justgo home.
But to what?
An empty house?
Hours spent staring at my laptop screen, pretending to slog through emails when I’m really hyperfocused on my phone…and the fact that Lily hasn’t called or texted me.
I’m not giving up–I didn’t make it this far giving in when barriers were thrown up in front of me–but it’s not like I can continue to pursue her indefinitely. There’s a difference between persistence and stalking, and I don’t want to be riding that line.
But the hell that awaits me if she doesn’t text, doesn’t take the tiniest step toward me, doesn’t open up, even the slightest bit…I’m already imagining it.
