“What did you to two do last night? Why am I giving Angier persmission to spend the night with you?” Jameson pressed. Tate sighed.

“He got upset about the Ellie thing, had a silly plan to make her jealous by making out with me. We stayed up late and ate pizza and ice cream. Very tame and non-sexual, I assure you,” she promised.

“I won't be allowing that again,” he informed her.

“Jameson, you can't me tell who I can and can't spend time with,” she pointed out.

“Wrong.”

She licked her lips and leaned forward.

“I actually have something to ask you. A favor,” she started, twiddling her fingers. He groaned and let his eyes fall shut.

“Just some sex. That's all I want out of life, money and sex. Why is sex the difficult one?” he breathed, dropping his head onto the back of his chair.

See? Just sex. That's all you are to him. Just sex, and eventually, he'll get bored and -

No. He's upset that you were with Ang. He's upset that you weren't with him. He cares.

FUCK, now I'm arguing with MYSELF. I need medication.

“I promise, I will give you sex any time you want, all the sex you can handle, if you'll give me a couple days,” Tate told him. Jameson lifted his head.

“What's your game, baby girl?” he asked softly. She shook her head.

“No game. I just want to borrow your condo,” she said. His eyes got wide.

“You want to borrow my condo? Well, gee, as long as you promise to bring it back,” he replied snidely. She rolled her eyes.

“I will. Just a few days.”

“Why?”

“Because Nick is in town.”

Jameson stood out of his chair and moved towards her quickly. Tate leapt up as well, moving away from him, putting the desk in between them. She had expected this part. Jameson always got mad at first, but then he usually capitulated. She could handle this, she just had to stay out of his grip long enough. If he caught her, sex was imminent, and when they had sex, he could get her to say and do anything he wanted. If she withheld sex, sometimes – rarely, but sometimes – she could get what she wanted. And then have sex. Win-win, really.

“You want to spend the night with Angier. You want to spend a couple days with Nick, in my condo. Anyone else you plan on fucking before I get my turn?” he asked, casually circling the desk. She kept skittering away.

“No, I think that's it.”

“Tatum.”

“I didn't sleep with Ang. I'm not going to sleep with Nick – he's going to stay in his own place. He's just visiting, and I know you won't want him at the house, so -,” she started.

“No shit.”

“So, I thought maybe I could take a vacation,” she suggested. Jameson's eyebrows went up and he stopped moving.

“A vacation?” he asked. She nodded, standing in between his chair and his desk.

“Yes. Things are ..., confusing for me, right now. I thought maybe some space would help,” she said in a small voice.

“Ah. This is about the other night. Your talk with Sanders,” he filled in. She shrugged.

“A lot of things. Sometimes it feels like you take me over, and when I remember the bad stuff, it's like I'm drowning. I just want some time. You told me I needed to figure shit out. That's what I want to do,” she stressed.

“And how does darling Nick figure into this?” Jameson asked.

“He doesn't, really, just gave me the idea to get away,” she replied. “I won't sleep with him. I won't even touch him. We're just friends, hanging out.”

“He's not coming into my fucking condo,” Jameson snapped, and Tate smiled. She had won.

“Of course not.”

“How come all your friends are men, huh? What happened to the tiny red head?” he demanded.

“Rusty? She's in school,” she replied.

“Well, introduce her to your baseball player – tell him he needs a new fucking friend. I am not okay with this, Tatum,” he growled, prowling towards her. She held her ground.

“I know, that's why it means a lot that you let me do it,” she replied.

“Just keep that in mind – I'm letting you do this,” he reinforced the notion. She nodded.

“It's just a few days, Jameson,” she pointed out.

“I have worked very hard for every day I've spent with you. I am not accustomed to giving some up,” he replied. She felt warm inside.

“That's very sweet.”

“Shut the fuck up. You better have shit figured out after this, because you will be coming back home, regardless of your boy-toy's feelings or yours,” he snapped. She nodded.

“I'm okay with that.”

“I do not like this, Tatum. I don't want to do this.”

“But you will, for me.”

“For you.”

He was standing in front of her, so close they were almost touching. He stared down the length of his nose at her, and the look of disdain he usually wore was front-and-center. She smiled at him. Reached out and straightened his tie.

“You're such shit at this,” she mumbled, adjusting his tie-pin. He grabbed her hand.

“Sanders is coming with you,” he informed her.

“Really? You wouldn't mind?” she asked, surprised. Sometimes she wondered if Jameson would be able to survive without Sanders.