6

“I still can't believe it.”

“What?”

“A barbecue.”

“You can't believe we had a barbecue?”

“No.”

“But the grill is still right over there.”

“Sanders, be quiet.”

“Of course.”

Tate sighed and put her hands on her hips. It was the next morning. The party had run late into the night, with several of the junior brokers getting sloppy drunk. Jameson had told the catering people to just go ahead and go home, and they could come pack everything up the next day.

She'd gone outside to look at the devastation in the morning, and Sanders had gone with her. Jameson had gone to work hours before, but he was heading home so they could all go to lunch and then the airport together.

“Did you have a good time?” she asked, glancing at Sanders before reaching over and rubbing his back.

“Yes. I was very surprised to discover that I enjoy hush puppies,” he replied. She laughed.

“They're pretty good. And there was corn on the cob! I missed Jameson eating it. Can you imagine?” she kept chuckling. Sanders cleared his throat.

“No, I cannot.”

There was a noise behind them and when they turned around, it was to find Rich Klimas gingerly stepping into the backyard. He had been one of the sloppy drunks. It had gotten bad enough that Jameson had ordered some of the men to carry Klimas upstairs and leave him in a guest room. He must have just woken up. He had some sort of reddish stain on his chin – probably barbecue sauce from the night before – and he wore a dark pair of sunglasses.

“How you doing?” Tate called out in a loud voice, grinning broadly. He grimaced at the noise.

“I've been better,” he replied, his voice rough and scratchy. “Did Mr. Kane leave?”

“Mr. Kane left a few hours ago,” Sanders interjected. “I will call for a driver to take you home immediately, Mr. Klimas.”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks, I need a ride,” he grumbled. Sanders nodded curtly then went into the house, walking fast.

“Seems like you had a fun time last night,” Tate said, smiling and folding her arms across her chest. Rich nodded.

“Yeah, maybe too much fun.”

“Looks like it.”

“Sounded like you had a fun time, too.”

The meaning wasn't lost on Tate. She rolled her eyes from behind her own sunglasses.

“The best. I just love Jameson's party,” she sighed.

“You must. You know, I met him a long time ago. I'm sure he doesn't remember, he was a guest speaker at some weekend event. I spent three days listening to him, and three nights watching him party. Gotta say, he never struck me as the marrying type,” Rich told her. She nodded and walked closer to him.

“I know. Me, neither.”

“Then how -”

“I was stupid enough to fall in love with him, and he was even stupider for falling in love with me first. As hard as it is to believe, the devil can actually love somebody. Maybe not lots of people, and definitely not you, but it does happen. Would you like some advice?” she asked. He seemed a little shaken by her frank response, but he managed a nod.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“I've known Jameson a long time, and I know him better than anyone else. You want to keep your job? Stop pissing around his territory.”

“I wasn't -”

“I wasn't,” she mocked his voice. “You have a brass set of balls, you know that, right? And while some people might be impressed, I'm not. I've seen what perfection looks like, and you're a long ways off from it, so go try and steal someone else's wife, okay? Because right now you're like a mouse who doesn't even know he's been caught by the cat. Being nice to you? This party? Inviting you? He's fucking with you. And eventually, he will get bored, and when that happens, say buh-bye to your nice stock broker job.”

A faint blush swept across Richard Klimas' face, but he quickly calmed himself down.

“There's other firms I could work for. I'm not scared of him,” he stated. She threw back her head and laughed.

“Oh my god, then you are stupid. Fine. Whatever. Keep trying at this pissing contest with him, see how it works out for you. But please, do me a favor, and leave me out of it? I can't even express to you in words how completely uninterested I am,” she said.

“You know,” he started, pulling off his sunglasses. “Kane didn't get to where he is without challenging people. Without stepping up to giants and knocking them down. You think he didn't sleep with a boss's wife at some point? That he didn't screw over someone above him?”

“Challenging people, yes. He's all for that. Being a flaming piece of garbage? Nah, that was never his style. Good luck with your life, I can tell you'll make great choices. I'm thinking you know your own way out,” she told him, nodding her head at the door.

“He's not as big a deal as the rest of you make him out to be. Someday, someone else will come along and be even better and smarter than him,” Rich warned. There was the sound of a throat clearing from behind them and Sanders stepped out of the shadows of the conservatory.

“Mr. Klimas, your ride is here,” he said, adjusting his tie. “And if I may so, you are entirely correct about Mr. Kane. But that day has not happened yet, and that person will most certainly not be you. Now kindly get off our property, and please don't return.”

Tate hadn't seen it happen in a long time, but Sanders could still turn on the frost bite. Jameson's glare could flash with an angry fire that was scorching just to look at it, but Sanders could freeze people where they stood with one look. He spoke civilly and said nothing rude, but his manner and tone were slightly terrifying. Like he could turn you into dust just by saying the right words. Like he was talking to nothing. Tate shivered, then almost laughed as Rich stumbled over himself as he hurried to leave.

“You are a magical, magical creature, Sandy,” she snickered as she hooked her arm though his.

“On the contrary, I am exceedingly normal,” he corrected her. “I heard what you said. It was very nice of you to defend Jameson.”

“Of course! What did you expect, that I'd run off into the sunset with Rich Klimas!?” she exclaimed, staring up at him.

“No. I was worried that you would tease him. Drag out his punishment. Last night was bad enough, I did not want to endure more awkwardness,” he explained.

“Oh, really? And what about last night was so awkward?” she asked, blinking her eyes innocently. He didn't react at first, just adjusted his tie again.

“You know those kind of outbursts of yours make me uncomfortable,” he said in a low voice.

“Outburst? Why, whatever are you talking about?” she continued feigning innocence.

“Please, stop. I would like to enjoy our time together,” he begged.

“We are enjoying ourselves! I'm just trying to remember – would this outburst you speak of have anything to do with a certain tryst amongst the flowers?” she teased, and was finally rewarded with a full on blush. He cleared his throat and wouldn't make eye contact.

“That is putting it delicately.”

“Why, Sandy! Are you saying you watched!?” she gasped in mock horror. His blush went from a delicate pink around his collar to red racing up his neck and onto his cheeks, though he still maintained the same air of aloofness. As if they were talking about the weather.

“Tatum, the entire party, and I'm pretty sure our closest neighbors, could hear you. I was not alone in my observations.”

“Please, I wasn't that loud.”

“Forgive me, but you weren't outside. It was very loud, I assure you.”

“At least it was a good show.”

“That is a matter of opinion.”

Tate shivered again.

“Don't talk like him, it's creepy,” she said, turning to look across the pool.

“What's creepy?”

As if they'd summoned him, the devil himself walked into the backyard.

“Sandy,” she answered as Jameson came to stand on her other side.

“You're being creepy?” he asked, looking over her head at Sanders.

“Apparently. I was unaware of it. I shall go and load my luggage into the car,” he said, and went to pull his arm free from Tate. She turned and held onto him.

“Wait, one more going away present,” she said. His lips twitched down for a second and she could feel the tension in his body. She smiled big at him.

“Please, no, your 'presents' tend to give me anxiety. If I could just -”

She yanked on his arm, pulling him down to her height. Then she kissed him fast and hard, putting a hand on the back of his neck to hold him in place. He stood like a stone for a moment, then she felt him relax. Felt his lips go soft. She smiled against him and let him go.

“See? That was a great present,” she laughed. He frowned and wiped at his mouth, then looked down at his fingertips. She had put on a deep red lipstick that morning.

“Pardon me, but my idea of a good present and yours are two very different things,” he informed her. But just before he turned away, she was positive she saw a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“Why do you torture him?” Jameson sighed, watching while Sanders disappeared into the house.

“Oh, deep down, he likes it,” she informed him.

“It makes him uncomfortable. You're going to tease him so much he won't want to come back,” he warned her.

“Pfffft, not possible. We're joined at the soul.”

“You're both strange, that's the problem,” he snorted. She gasped and turned to face him.

“Did you just call Sanders strange?” she demanded.

“Enough about him. Did you have a fun time last night?” Jameson asked, rolling up his shirt sleeves. He'd left his jacket somewhere in the house, but was still in the rest of his suit.

“Yeah, I actually did. We should do stuff like that more often, only maybe with people we actually like,” she suggested. He shrugged.

“Seemed to work out okay for the people we did invite. I walked in on your little friend with one of my employees in the shower,” he informed her. Her jaw dropped.

“Rusty? Oh god, tell me it was that Steele guy!”

“How did you know?”

She clapped her hands together.

“They were eye fucking each other all last night! This is so awesome! She hasn't been with anyone in forever, and if they were showering together, that definitely means they must have had sex,” she pointed out. He snorted again.

“Tate, they were fucking the shower. She nearly had a heart attack when I came in to get towels.”

“Oh jesus,” she groaned. “She's going to be even more awkward around you than she was before.”

“Probably. I don't think it helped that I stayed and talked with Steele for a couple minutes.”

“You didn't!”

“He's one of our best junior brokers, I wanted to offer him a permanent position.”

“Okay, but did you have to do it while he was inside Rusty?” she demanded. Jameson shrugged.

“I didn't really care. He was there, so I mentioned it. Then I took the towels and left. By the time I went back downstairs, she was moaning his name again. I think it's safe to say I didn't do too much damage.”

Tate was daydreaming, not really paying attention. Rusty and Howard Steele. Wow! She'd been hoping for an end to her friend's dry spell, but now she prayed that it would be more than just a one night stand. Maybe they really had a connection. Maybe they would go on to date, and then who knew what else.

Summer barbecues are magical ...

“Can you imagine if they got married?” she laughed. “Rusty Steele. I would pay to make that happen.”

“Tate, they just met. It's just sex, it doesn't mean anything,” he warned her.

“Pfffft, I had sex with you after we first met,” she pointed out. He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but you're a slut.”

“Hey!”

“And it was just sex – it didn't mean anything at the time.”

She gasped, then without even thinking about it, she charged at him. He was still looking out over the yard and didn't notice her until it was too late. She'd planted her hands on his side and pushed him, hard. He lost his balance, swung his arms, then tipped over the edge of the pool. She put her hands on her hips as he let out a shout and splashed into the water.

“Didn't mean anything, huh?” she said when he resurfaced. He glared at her and raked his fingers through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face.

“Do you have any idea how much this suit cost?” he asked in a voice that could cut glass.

“A lot.”

“Or this watch?”

“No, how much?”

“A lot more than you're worth,” he replied as he looked down at his wrist.

“Oh, just wait until you get this month's credit card statement. I'll show you how much I'm fucking worth, you stupid – AH!”

He snapped his hand out faster than she could follow, and next thing she knew her foot was yanked out from underneath her. She pitched forward and fell face first into the pool. When she came up, she was hacking and coughing, pawing at her face and wiping at her eyes.

“What were you saying?” Jameson's voice was dangerously close to her ear, then his arms were around her waist, turning her to face him.

“I was saying you're a jerk,” she growled as she shoved her hair out of her eyes.

“Yes, but I'm your jerk, so that must count for something,” he pointed out, holding her close. She wrapped her legs around his waist and let him carry her.

“I think it just means I have bad taste,” she replied, and he barked out a laugh.

“Can't be worse than mine – I married a slut who puts out on the first date.”

“Hey, you love sluts who put out on the first date.”

“I love this one,” he replied, leaning back against the edge of the pool.

“And it always meant something to you, every time,” she added, staring up at him.

“Always, baby girl. Always.”

“Jameson,” she said softly.

“Hmmm?” he responded, brushing away hair that was clinging to her forehead.

“Can we have barbecues every weekend?”

He laughed and tugged sharply at her wet hair.

“You're ridiculous. No.”

“Okay, maybe every other -”

“Tate, I've been thinking about something,” he interrupted her. She stopped smiling.

“Oh god, what? It's awful when you think,” she groaned.

“About what you were saying the other day. About children,” he said, almost choking on the last word. She sighed.

“Yes, yes, I know you find the idea of having kids with me disgusting, awful, horrible, and any other nasty adjective. I got the memo,” she told him. He glared at her.

“If you'd shut the fuck up, I'll explain.”

“I just don't see why I have to listen to more insults,” she snapped back.

“Tate, I would love to have children with you,” he stated, shocking her.

“Excuse me!?”

“Someday,” he amended his statement. “Obviously, there's no one else I would want to have them with. If you ever did find out you were pregnant, yeah, I'd be shocked, you'd have to expect that. But I would also deal with it, and I would hope they had my eyes and your amazing smile.”

“Jameson,” she sniffled his name, trying to hold back tears.

“It's not that I would hate it if you got pregnant, Tate. But right now, it's just you and me. I get you all to myself, all the time. I don't have to share you with anybody or anything, and I'm sorry, but I like it like that. I like having access to your body and your heart and your mind any time I want. I know it can't be like this forever, so I would just like to enjoy it for as long as I can. I wanted you to understand that.”

Tate hated crying, and hated it most of all when Jameson made her cry. One tear slipped out, though, and was quickly followed by another.

“God, I hate it when you do that,” she cried.

“Do what? Say nice shit to you? Me, too,” he said, but he used his thumb to gently brush away her tears.

“I hate if when you do something awful, but then later it turns out you're actually wonderful. It's so annoying,” she told him, trying to glare at him and failing miserably.

“Well, you do a lot more things that are a lot more annoying, so I think I've got a little leeway here,” he said. She gasped.

“See!? There you go again, being awful, and just wait, a week from now, you're going to make it seem like you were actually being nice. I can't stand -”

He suddenly dropped down, dunking them under the water. She was so startled, she almost panicked. But then he was kissing her, and it was still magical, and she still felt all those wonderful things she'd felt the first time they'd ever kissed. She smiled with her lips against his, and she was still smiling long after they'd resurfaced.

Perfection.