“Good, things are good. Just kinda hanging out,” she responded.
“No job?” he asked.
“No, no job.”
“What about school? You mentioned once -,”
“No, Dad, no school either,” Tate said sarcastically.
“Well, I worry about you. When you don't keep busy, you either vegetate, or get into trouble. And if you're going to get into trouble, I'd like to at least be there,” he told her. She snorted.
“I'm not getting into trouble, or 'vegetating', I promise. Sandy and I went up to New York the other weekend, he took me to the Natural History Museum, all that good stuff,” she assured him of her innocence. Nick would be the last person alive who would buy it, by the time she was through.
“You and Sanders alone together for a weekend, huh,” he said. She smiled.
“Ooohhh, sounds like jealousy,” Tate teased.
“No, no, not at all. Sanders is a very fine man. When you marry him, can I walk you down the aisle?” he asked.
“Of course. Now if we can just convince Jameson to walk with Sandy, it'll be perfect,” she joked.
“Is there any way we could not invite Jameson?” Nick asked.
“Jameson isn't the kind of man you don't invite places – he just invites himself, anyway,” she assured him.
“Not exactly surprising. So, when are you going to come visit me?” Nick asked.
They had talked several times about her coming out there. Nick thought it was a great idea. Tate thought it was horrible. She was in a bad place, a bad state of mind. She didn't want him to see her like that, and she didn't want him to become a casualty on her path to becoming a bitch.
“I don't know, Nick. When does training end?” she asked, for the millionth time.
“End of March. Tatum, it would be really nice to see you, before I have to go on the road,” he said in a soft voice. She hated his soft voice. It could make her do almost anything.
“I'll try, I promise. Maybe in a couple weeks, before training really gets under way,” she offered.
“That would be nice. I mean, there's no pressure. I just want to see you. I'm not asking for anything else,” Nick told her.
“I know that. Thank you.”
Sometimes, Nick felt like the only person who wasn't asking her for something, or expecting her to be anything. It was nice.
“Though I wouldn't stop you if you suddenly felt like getting naked and climbing into bed with me,” he threw out there, and she burst out laughing.
“Good to know, good to know,” Tate tried to contain herself. Then she saw Jameson prowling through the conservatory, and her laughter dried up.
“So. End of March?” Nick asked. She nodded, watching Jameson.
“I'll try,” was all she offered.
“That's all I ever ask. I gotta go. Take care of yourself,” he instructed her. She nodded again as Jameson finally walked out of the house.
“I never do,” she replied, then hung up the phone.
Jameson was slowly making his way towards her, his hands in pants pockets. She sighed as she watched him. He was wearing a suit, this one with a vest. It killed her. She wanted to lick the fabric, he looked so good. He had everything tailored, so everything fit him like a glove. She loved it. She always loved the way he looked; he always took her breath away a little.
Sometimes, he made it very hard for her to hate him.
“Talking with your boyfriend?” he asked snidely as he approached her.
And sometimes, he made it very easy.
“He's lonely. Can I go visit him?” Tate asked. Jameson snorted.
“Abso-fuckin'-lutely not,” he replied, standing right over her.
“Scared you'll lose me?” she laughed. He laughed as well.
“I couldn't get rid of you if I tried. No, but I don't want to have to fly to Arizona, of all the god forsaken places, to rescue you from some ridiculous situation you will no doubt get yourself into,” he answered, taking his hands out of his pockets and opening his jacket.
“All true. But still. Can I go see him?”
“No.”
“It's very hard for me to be a good girlfriend to him, when you're always interfering,” Tate teased. Jameson glared at her.
“It must be even harder for you to be a good girlfriend to him when I'm the one who's always inside you,” he responded. She shrugged.
“What are you doing home?” she asked, cutting through the flirting. Or was it teasing? Bullying? It was all the same to her.
“It occured to me that maybe you would be uncomfortable here, all alone,” Jameson said.
“Sanders is here,” Tate reminded him. He rolled his eyes.
“Sometimes that's almost like one and the same. I only had one consultation this afternoon, so I rescheduled it and came home,” he explained.
“For me?” she asked. He nodded.
“For you.”
Sometimes he could almost be sweet. Sure, he was the devil incarnate, but in his own weird way, he would try to be sweet. She tried to encourage those moments, figured they would lure him into a false sense of security.
“That's very nice of you,” she said, reaching up and grabbing onto his hand. He frowned, but allowed her to link their fingers.
“I also had something else,” he went on.
Uh oh.
She let go of his hand.
“What?” she asked, instantly wary. He lowered himself so he was sitting on the lounger across from her.
“I have to go out of town,” Jameson started. Her breath caught in her throat. “Just to Los Angeles. I've been trying to sell off my piece of a film company, and it needs my personal attention. I'll be back in a couple days, five at the most.”
Los Angeles. L.A. didn't scare her, Tate didn't have any bad memories associated with that city. She had been nervous that he was going to say New York, or worse, Berlin. L.A. she could handle. It was actually a good thing. Ang hadn't been over to Jameson's house, but maybe now he could be convinced to come over if the devil wasn't home.
“Oh, that's it?” she feigned nonchalance. “That's fine. Are you taking Sandy?”
“I was planning on it, but I don't have to,” Jameson offered. She waved her hand.
“No, it's cool. I'll just bug him if we're here alone. When you're not here, it's basically me just following him around all day,” she laughed. Jameson didn't. He looked suspicious.
“I didn't think you would take this so well,” he told her. She managed to shrug.
“Why? You've been to L.A. before, remember? Maybe this time, instead of two women, you should try for a full on orgy,” she joked. Still no laughter.
“And I certainly didn't think you would be okay with that,” he added. Tate was surprised. Was he actually worried about how she would feel?
“Why wouldn't I be?” she asked.
“Well, last time I attempted to sleep with another woman, I had to pull you off of a certain slutty maid after -,” he started. She held up her hand.
“That was completely different. I don't care if you fuck other women, I just don't want to be a part of it. Besides, she was a bitch who didn't know her place. I was there first,” Tate said. He finally smiled.