“You don't like me, Jameson. You like having someone around that you can feel superior to,” she told him.
“No. Since Spain, I have never made you feel that way – if that's how you felt, then it's something you did. Stop blaming all your shit on other people!” he yelled.
“I don't have to listen to -,”
“Yes, you do. I want to be with you. I want you to be with me. What else do you want!? Do you want me to beg? Is that the fucking problem?” he pressed.
“Oh, yes, I would love that. Jameson Kane, begging -,”
“Please. Please, don't do this,” he whispered, grabbing her arms and yanking her close. “Please. I'm begging you. Don't do this.”
The shocking just did not stop.
“Jameson, stop, you're making a scene,” she hissed at him. He shook his head.
“Do you think I give a fuck? Goddammit, Tatum, just listen to me, for once. You're willing to try out all this happy-home bullshit with him? Well, let me try it out with you,” he urged.
“You don't mean these things,” she breathed, shaking her head.
“Please. You haven't given me my chance, and I was here first. You want all these things, let me try to give them to you. You said you wanted a prince – I'm as close as you can get,” he told her.
“I said I wanted Prince Charming; you're the Prince of Darkness.”
“Still a prince, baby girl.”
Too much. This man is so much.
“Jameson ...,” she breathed, closing her eyes.
“Here. I bought you something. Today,” he was suddenly saying, letting her go. She opened her eyes to see him digging something out of the plastic bag. He pulled out a large, square, velvet box. She glared.
“Is this a joke?” she demanded, yanking it out of his hands as he held it out to her.
“No. Just open it. You'll -,” he started. She smacked him in the arm with the box.
“You just don't fucking get it! For such a smart fucking person, you don't fucking get anything! You can't buy me!” she shrieked the last part, hitting him over and over with the box. He grabbed her wrist and the box fell out of her grasp, clattering to the ground at her feet.
“I'm not trying to buy you, you stupid bitch! Just fucking open it!” he yelled back. People were starting to stop and stare at them.
“Go fuck yourself. This is why I didn't want you here, why I don't want to see you. You ruin everything,” she growled at him. He glared back at her.
“You know what? Fine. Fine. I can't make you be with me, you're right. You wanna be fucking stupid, then go be fucking stupid. But don't be with him. Don't go be with him, just to not be with me. That's stupid. I can bear the thought of you being out there alone, without me. What I can't bear is the thought of you being out there with the wrong man.”
Tate didn't know what to say to that – Jameson, willing to let her go. Jameson, simply begging her to not be with the wrong person. She was at a loss. It didn't matter anyway. She still hadn't found her voice when she felt an arm slide around her waist.
“Are you okay? Excuse me, mister, you can't just -, oh.”
Nick and Jameson stared at each other. She felt like she was going to melt into the floor. The two had never met. She had never wanted them to meet. They were from different spectrum’s of her life. Jameson was the dark. Nick was the light. The two weren't ever meant to meet.
“Tatum,” Jameson's voice was full of warning, but he kept his eyes on Nick.
“I didn't realize you were here,” Nick started, glancing at Tate briefly before going back to Jameson. “I'm Nick Castille.” He held out his hand. Jameson did not shake it.
“I know who you are. The question is, do you know who I am?” Jameson asked, his voice full of steel. Nick nodded.
“I am very aware of who you are. Is he bothering you?” Nick asked her, his arm getting tighter around her waist. She pulled away from him, moving to the side of them both.
“No, just give us a minute, he was about to leave,” she said quickly. Jameson snorted.
“I'm not fucking going anywhere,” he replied.
“She asked you to leave. You need to leave,” Nick stressed. Jameson moved his stare to Tate.
“Unfinished business, Tatum,” he told her in a soft voice. She shivered.
“Not anymore, Kane,” she whispered. Nick glanced between them and stepped forward.
“Alright, enough. You're obviously upsetting her. Time to go,” He told him. Jameson barked out a laugh and stood to his full height, a good two inches over Nick.
“I'm not going anywhere. Didn't she tell you? The whole point of my existence is just to upset her,” Jameson informed him. Tate actually laughed at that one. Nick just got angry.
He never did quite get my sense of humor.
“That's it. You need to leave, or I'll get security to kick you out of the hotel,” Nick warned him. Jameson laughed again.
“Try it. I'll buy this hotel, then redecorate the interior with your small intestines,” Jameson threatened.
“Stop it,” Tate finally piped up.
“Wanna say that again? I didn't quite hear you,” Nick growled, stepping closer to him.
“I don't repeat myself to people like you,” Jameson growled right back.
“Probably because people like me are too far above you.”