Reparation (26 page)

“I will be right there with you, sir,” Sanders assured him. Jameson snorted.

“Sometimes I don't know whose side you're on,” he grumbled.

“When are we leaving?” Sanders asked.

“Do you really think she would stay with this man?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really think I have a chance?”

“... um ...,”

“
Por que perder el tiempo con usted?
” Jameson groaned. Sanders stood up.

“If you are going to complain about me, I prefer it in German. I understand the subtleties better,” he said.

“
Du mein Leben zur Holle zu machen, sollte ich dich verlassen habe, wo ich dich gefunden,
” Jameson spat out, but he stood up as well.

“A vast majority of the time, I make you're life better, so saying I make it hell is a gross overstatement. And yes, you could have left me on that street – but then you really would be the devil,” Sanders said, heading towards the door. Jameson caught up with him. Wrapped his arm around the smaller man's shoulders.

“
Mein Sohn,
” Jameson kissed the top of Sanders' head.

“
Ja. Jetzt, um unsere Familie zu beheben wollen wir,
” Sanders told him. Jameson nodded.

“We can try, Sanders. How often have you known her to be compliant? Hard to fix what she won't admit is broken,” Jameson warned him as they walked out of the room. The secretary glanced at them, then went back to her paperwork.

“We won't know if we don't try.”

“I've been thinking. Instead of flying -,” Jameson started as they got on an elevator.

“Oh, so you have been thinking about this?” Sanders asked, glancing up at him.

“Of course. Constantly. You can't just forget a woman like Tatum O'Shea. Getting her back the last time was a battle. This time, it's going to take a war. We have some ground work to cover, before we reach her. I was thinking,” Jameson began again.

“Now
I
am afraid.”

“How about we drive?”

“I'm sorry, what did you say?”

“We take the Bentley, and we drive. It would take us a week, at most.”

“Why do you want to drive?” Sanders asked.

“She doesn't do well with memories. There are a lot of them in the Bentley. I'd bring the goddamn house if I could. The car will have to do,” Jameson explained.

“If we take turns,” Sanders added, “we can get there in about three days.” Jameson laughed.

“Three days. I was hoping for a little more time.”

“It is plenty of time. You will use most of it to think of how you are going to say it.”

“Say what?”

“It.”

“
What?
”

“Love.”

“You have completely fucking lost me,” Jameson said, staring down at Sanders. “What are you talking about?”

“You will use the time it takes to drive out there to think of how best to tell her that you are in love with her,” he spelled everything out. Jameson lifted his eyebrows.

“You just don't quit today, Sanders. Just because
you
believe everything is peachy keen, and just because
she
believes in fairy tales, does not mean I -,” Jameson started to grumble. Sanders held up his hand.

“Then say you don't,” he challenged.

“Huh?”

“You are such a man of honor, you claim. You '
never lie
', you say. Then say you don't.”

Jameson pressed his lips together hard for a moment, glaring lightning bolts at Sanders. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked away. Stared at the elevator wall for a few moments. Then he cleared his throat.

“
Nunca miento,
” he said softly.
I never lie
.

“That's what I thought.”

“Jesus. Maybe
you
should be calling
me
'
mein Sohn
',” Jameson grumbled, still not meeting Sanders' eyes.

“I have often had similar thoughts.”

“This is all going to blow up in our faces. You realize that?” Jameson warned him. Sanders nodded.

“Probably. I am prepared to face that. Are you?”

“No. But let's get it over with. Like ripping off a band aid.”

The two men walked out of the building, sucking all the air out with them.

*

Tate hurried across a street, holding her hand up as a car honked at her. She held her phone to her ear with her other hand, listening to Ang bitch at her. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

“I'm sorry, all I'm hearing is
whomp wuh whomp,
” she laughed at him.

“Seriously, Tate. Two weeks ago you called me, all crying and sobbing, and now this!?” he snapped at her.

“I've gotten over the crying,” she assured him.

“Yeah, but do you still do it?” he asked.

“Only sometimes.”

“
Tatum
. Why are you doing this?” Ang asked.

“I told you. I just want a normal life,” she said.

“
You're using him,
” Ang hissed.

“No. He knows how I feel. I told him this is just a trial thing. It's
his
idea,” Tate pointed out.

Nick had asked her to move in with him. She had resisted for a while. She hadn't had sex with him since that time in her hotel room, two weeks ago, but he had kissed her plenty. He was trying to win her heart. She warned him that there was a strong possibility that it would always belong to Jameson.

“
Then why don't you go be with him?
”

“
Because he doesn't have a heart to give back.
”

“
So if you can't be with the man you want, you're going to settle for a man who wants you?
”

“
No. I could just be alone. Unfortunately, there is a certain man who won't leave me alone.
”

“
Sorry. You're addicting. I have high hopes that I can change your mind.
”

“
I have rational realizations that you most likely won't.
”

“
When you talk like that, I think it's really
him
talking.
”

“
I think so, too.
”

Conversations like that were what made Tate decide she was going to take Nick up on his offer. She had been living in a hotel room for over a month. Sanders hadn't answered her phone calls for the last two weeks. No word from Jameson,
at all
. It was really over. She needed somewhere to go, someone to be. Maybe it wouldn't work out with Nick, but he was okay with that, okay with trying. And she had to
at least
try.

She was staying at a Marriott hotel, near the University of Arizona. There was a huge function being thrown at the hotel that night, a ton of baseball teams were gathering together. Food, champagne, awards of some sort. Seemed a good time to tell him she would move in with him.

“You're in love with Jameson.” Ang said it as a statement. She swallowed thickly.

“Maybe. But I'm done waiting for him to be in love with me. And he and his stupid girlfriend can go have their love child together and live -,” she started to ramble, pacing outside the doors to the hotel.

“Don't you watch the fucking news!?” Ang interrupted.

“Huh?”

“You idiot.
It's not his
. The real father stepped foward, proved that it couldn't be Jameson. There was a paternity test and everything. Jameson's lawyers have been suing the shit out of her. Will you come home now!?” he whined. She stopped pacing.

“Not his?” she asked.

No. No, no, no, no.

“Not his. That fucker, from the party, who hit you,” Ang told her.

“
You are shitting me,
” Tate gasped.

“Not at all. Apparently she didn't go straight back to Berlin after Jameson kicked her ass out. She hung around with that Dunn guy. It's
his
baby,” Ang explained.

She was blown away. She started laughing. She was fully aware that she looked completely crazy, cackling into the phone like a hyena. Well, Petrushka had wanted an American financier. She got one, and one who was almost as big an asshole as she was;
winning
.

“This is amazing. Ang, you have made my day,” Tate gasped for air.

“Good. Will you come home?” he demanded. She sighed.

“Ang. Do you love me?”

“What?”

“Do you love me?”

“Right now? Not very much,” he snapped.

“Just let me figure shit out, alright. I tried it with Jameson. It didn't work. Let me try it with Nick. If it doesn't work, I'll run home,” she promised.

“Or somewhere else. Tate ..., please.
I'll
sleep with you.
I'll
love you. Don't just give up,” he urged.

“A lot of women would kill to be in my position, moving in with Nick,” she pointed out.

“Exactly – and you're robbing them of that. I'm worried for you, worried you'll end up like your mom,” Ang said softly. She stiffened up.

“That won't happen. I'm not giving up. I'm testing the waters,” she replied.

“Last time you '
tested the waters
', I had to pull you out, and baby girl, I'm not there this time around.”

Tate hung up on him. Stared at the phone like she was holding a snake. Ang had never called her '
baby girl
' before,
ever
. He had called her just about every other name under the sun, but not that one. No, that was Jameson's name for her. What he had been calling her since she was eighteen. And to bring up the pool, that was
low
. Even for Ang.

She sighed and looked out onto the street, trying not to cry. Tate had made a deal with herself. No more tears. She focused on different things, tried to distract herself. There were a lot of really nice cars everywhere, a lot of rich baseball players were checking into the hotel. She saw a Porsche. A couple Escalades. A Ferrari. She smiled sadly when her eyes landed on a black Bentley.

At least someone at this hotel has classy tastes.

She walked through the lobby, glancing around. The hotel was buzzing with people. Lots of new people checking in, bell service people running around. A cart whizzed past her, filled with Louis Vuitton luggage. She frowned. Something didn't feel right.

Tate stood in front of an elevator, frowning at her feet. It was just Ang. His phone call was weighing on her soul. That's why she felt weird. And the Bentley. She would probably never be able to look at a Bentley the same again. Good thing she didn't know anyone else who owned one.

She took a deep breath as she heard a ding announcing the elevator's arrival. She walked forward, starting to lift her head, but something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. A man, striding towards the front desk. Impeccable suit. Styled hair. Trim frame. Tate gasped, turning even as she stepped into the elevator, ignoring the people inside.

“Sanders?” she whispered, craning her neck to see. There was shuffling behind her, and someone brushed against her elbow as they reached for the floor buttons. Fire spread up her arm.

“
Going up, baby girl?
”

She felt like the elevator was falling out from underneath her. She slowly turned, the doors sliding shut. Satan was in the elevator, smiling down at her. Taking up every square inch of space. She stared up at him, her jaw hanging open.

“How ..., how ...,” Tate breathed. He put a finger under chin, shut her mouth for her.

“You have a whole network of people trying to do what they think is best for you. Ang talked to Sanders. Sanders wouldn't calm down till I agreed to come out here,” Jameson explained in a soft voice. She swallowed thickly.

“Sanders brought you here,” she whispered. He shook his head.

“
You
brought me here.”

She turned her back to him, trying to remember how to breathe. How come every time she felt like she was gaining a grip on life, Jameson fucking Kane had to pop back up!? She kept trying to let go. Why wouldn't he? Tate reached out, pressed the button for floor seven.

“Sorry,” she managed to choke out as the elevator started to lift. “Were you getting out at the lobby?”

“I was. I don't mind the ride.”

She nearly fell over.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. She felt his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to turn around to face him.