Separation (5 page)

“Hey! I was looking everywhere for you!”

Tate felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders, then she was pulled sideways into a solid chest. She smiled and looked up at Nick. There were many times over the last six weeks that she had argued with herself about him. Told herself that she should like him. Or at least fake it until it happened for real. He was really good looking, semi-famous, wealthy, nicer than any normal person should be, and it also didn't hurt that she knew he wasn't bad in bed, either. Maybe not quite her tastes, but she was sure she could learn to live with it.

But Tate hadn't been able to talk herself into it. She knew she was a horrible liar, and she didn't want to do that Nick, use him like that; at least, not yet. Maybe after a couple more weeks of feeling like she wanted to claw her skin off, she would be able to do it. She was working on hardening herself.

“She's been with me,” Ang replied around a mouth full of hors d'oeuvres, not bothering to look at Nick. He didn't like the other man, though Tate couldn't figure out why. Nick was like a kitten, only in sexy-human-man form. Who wouldn't love him?

Besides her, that is.

“I'm glad you guys came. Tate said she didn't want a birthday party, so I thought maybe this could be like a substitute,” Nick laughed. Tate managed a smile. Her birthday was the next day. That meant Christmas was three weeks away. More depression.

“Yeah,
awesome
birthday party. Tate just loves high rises and yuppies,” Ang grunted. Tate scowled and kicked him in the ankle.

“
Ang,
” she hissed. Nick glanced down at her.

“It's alright. I know it's not really your guys' scene. It's not really mine, either. I grew up in a town of less than 2,000 people – I still don't know how to put on a tie right,” he chuckled. She smiled up at him.

“Good for you. I gotta go. Tate, walk me out,” Ang said, shoving a last sausage roll in his mouth before grabbing her hand and dragging her away from Nick.

“
Rude, much!?
And you said soon! I didn't realize you meant
right now!
” Tate snapped as she was pulled out the front door.

“I can't be around these people, that guy,” Ang replied, letting go of her hand once they were in the hallway.

“What's with you and him? He is one of the nicest people I've ever met, what could you possibly not like about him?” Tate demanded. Ang frowned and stared down the hallway.

“It's not him, he's fine. I mean, kind of boring, but yeah, nice. I just ...,” his voice trailed off. Tate crossed her arms. She was fed up.

“Just
what,
Ang? We never see each other anymore, and the few times we do, you're always rushing off somewhere – but not before being a complete dick. Is it me? Just say it. I'll stop calling. Is it him? Cause that's not -,” she started, but suddenly Ang stomped right up to her. Got in her personal space, forced her to back up into a wall. She pressed herself flat, staring up at him. He looked
mad
.

“It
is
you. It's the way you dress now,” he gestured to the fancy skirt and blouse she was wearing. “It's this party, it's those people, it's the way you act – who the fuck is this person!? You didn't die in that fucking pool, Tate, but you sure fucking act like it. You don't have to become someone else!”

Oh, Ang. I became someone else the moment I walked into Satan's house.

“Look, I'm sorry I'm not that person anymore. I'm sorry that I can't go back. Don't you think I wish I could!? I wish I could just close my eyes and the last four months wouldn't have happened. I wish I could go back in time, back to when I first met you, and I could've told you '
Yes, I'll shoot that porno with you, why, I love facials!
', and then you and I could be married-millionaire-porn-stars with a hundred babies, and I would've never met him again! But I can't go back,
so get the fuck over it!
” Tate screamed at him.

They stared at each other for a second, breathing hard. Then Ang burst out laughing. Tate was right behind him, laughing so hard she fell into him, pressing her face into his chest. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a full body hug. It had been a long time. She laughed till tears were running down her face and she dug her fingers into his back.

“God, I knew it. I knew you secretly loved getting facials,” he snickered in her ear. She snorted and pulled away a little.

“Shut up, that shit's impossible to get out of your hair,” she told him, wiping at her nose.

“Don't I know it.”

She laughed again and looked up at Ang. Really looked at him. Took in his gray eyes and wild hair. She really did wish she could go back, to when things were easy between them. When she wouldn't think twice about curling herself around him and getting lost in his skin, in his touch. But it wasn't that way anymore. Tate hadn't had sex,
real sex
, since her little accident.

Since Jameson.

“I love you, Ang. Quite possibly more than I love myself,” she laughed, her eyes watering up. He sighed, pushing her hair off of her shoulders and then putting his hands on the back of her neck.

“I know, sweetie pea. I love you, too. And I know I give you a hard time, and I know things can't be the same, I just ..., I don't want you to give up. I can see it in your eyes. He's an awesome dude, I know, but I can practically feel you trying to talk yourself into, like, marrying him, or something. Nick's not the right guy for you.
Don't settle,
” Ang urged her. She sniffled.

“I'm not settling. I'm just ...,” she mumbled, staring at his chest.

“And you don't need
Satan,
” he whispered. She shuddered.

“I
definitely
know that.
Look, I'll get out of my funk. I will. And I promise, I won't settle, or anything else. When I decide to jump back into the sea of men, you will be the first boat I choose to ride,” Tate assured him. Ang laughed and stepped away from her.

“Baby, maybe this boat has already sailed,” he teased.

Tate started to laugh, but then something clicked. Her eyes got wide. Ang was moody. He was never around. He always had to leave early. He was constantly checking his phone. Oh god. The unthinkable had happened. She gasped.

“Oh my god. Ang. Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked. His laughter died instantly.

“What? Why would you say that? I just -,” he started, but she knew him too well. Even after all their problems, and everything they'd been through, Tate still knew him. Ang was a worse liar than she was, he got all twitchy and nervous.

“You do! You have a girlfriend! Holy shit! Have you
ever
had a girlfriend!?” she exclaimed. He glared at her.

“Of course I have, have you looked at me!?” he snapped back. She laughed and clapped her hands.

“What is she like? Does she come to your movie sets? God, did you meet her on set!? This is amazing! Who is it!?” Tate demanded. He rolled his eyes and started to walk backwards down the hall.

“I'm not talking about this right now. Someday, we'll get over our weird shit, and you'll throw yourself at me –
naked
– in some sad, desperate, attempt to get back in my good graces, and maybe then I'll tell you. But not now,” Ang said, backing into the elevator doors. Without looking, he reached out and hit the down button.

“But I'm dying, Angie-wangy! Please!” she begged. He laughed.

“Beg harder!” he yelled.

“
Pleeeeeeease!
”

He kept laughing as the elevator doors opened. He saluted her, then disappeared.

And then she was alone. Tate glanced at the door to the suite, but she didn't want to go back to the party. She pressed her back to the wall and slid to the floor. Ang's words sat heavy in her brain.
Don't settle.
What was she supposed to do? Jameson had wrecked her a little bit. Wrecked her
a lot
. Ang didn't feel familiar to her anymore, and even if he had, now he had a new playmate. Nick was one of the only people she felt comfortable around anymore. Sure, she didn't feel like herself, but she couldn't win 'em all. Who else was left?

As if to answer all her questions, her phone rang. Tate dug it out of the waist of her skirt and smiled when saw Sanders was calling. When she had practically been living in the same house as him, Sanders had never called her – back then, he wouldn't even use her first name, she was always “
Ms. O'Shea
”
or “
ma'am
”. Now he called at least once every other day, like clock work. If she felt comfortable when she was around Nick, than she felt like she was
home
when she was around Sanders.

“I miss you,” she breathed into the phone, in a Marilyn Monroe-style voice. She snickered when he cleared his throat.

“I saw you yesterday,” his clipped voice responded. Tate laughed.

“Sandy, I miss you whenever you're not next to me. How are you?” she asked, stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles.

“I am well. And you?” he responded. So prim and proper.

“Lonely without you. When are you going to let me move in with you?” she demanded. He cleared his throat again.

Tate had been trying for weeks to get him to let her move into his hotel suite. Sanders lived in a large, two bedroom hotel suite, there would be plenty of room for her, and they got along ridiculously well. But he kept resisting, and Tate couldn't figure out why. Money couldn't be the issue – not only would Sanders give her the shirt off his back, but her sister had given her a hefty chunk of change as a sort of “get well” present. Ellie had made out very well in her divorce. Tate hadn't gone back to work since she'd gotten out of the hospital.

“It's your birthday tomorrow,” Sanders stated. Almost like she might have forgotten.

“Yes, I know.”

“I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me,” he asked. Tate laughed again.

“Sandy, you don't even need to ask. What should I wear?” she asked back.

Tate had learned very quickly that the way a person looked was very important to Sanders. It wouldn't necessarily stop him from going somewhere, but she knew it made him a lot more comfortable if she looked like she matched him. Which meant it always had to be something
nice
.

“A nice dress, but no tall heels,” he informed her.

“Ooohhh, there's that vanity,” she snickered into the phone. It bothered him when she wore heels that made her taller than him.

“I don't know what you're talking about, I'll pick you up at seven.” Then he hung up the phone. Sanders never said goodbye at the end of his phone calls, just cut the line. It didn't really bother her, but it did remind her very much of someone else. She held the phone cradled in her hands, staring down at the screen.

What's wrong with me? How can I miss someone who only wanted to hurt me?

“Are you okay?”

She jerked her head up to find Nick standing over her.

“Yeah, just said goodbye to Ang. Sorry about him – he's all flustered because he has a new girlfriend,” Tate said quickly, focusing on Nick's smile, on his pretty white teeth. Trying to banish someone's fangs from her mind. Nick squatted down next to her.

“God help the woman,” he laughed.

“I know. How long are we gonna be here?” she asked. He glanced back at the door.

“It's getting kind of rowdy in there. Wanna take off?” he replied, holding a hand out to help her up.

I should like this man. I really, really should
.

“Please, god, yes,” Tate groaned, letting him pull her to her feet.

They went back inside to find jackets, but they were both waylaid. Nick was congratulated on having such a nice girlfriend, then there had to be a whole explanation about how she wasn't his girlfriend. Awkward. She had been around him long enough to have met most of his teammates, but they still didn't seem to get it. Either they assumed the two of them were sleeping together anyway, or they tried to hit on her.

Ew.

They collected their belongings and headed back into the hallway. As they waited for the elevator, she looked at her reflection. Ang didn't like the way she dressed. Most of Tate's clothing was in the house in Weston, and she wasn't about to go get them back. So while she was in the hospital, she had asked her sister to go shopping for her. They were all nice clothes but ..., they were kind of boring. No more leather leggings or see-through tank tops or booty shorts for Tatum.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked, putting a hand on the small of her back to guide her into the elevator. She struggled not to skitter away from his touch.

“Fine, fine. Just thinking. But hey, good party, huh?” she changed the subject. He smiled at her as they started their descent.

“It was okay. Sorry I dragged you guys along,” he told her. She snorted.

“No, it was a good idea. I needed to get out. I think I was becoming one with the couch. Another night and you'd have to surgically remove it from my butt,” she joked. He laughed out loud as the elevator stopped, the doors sliding open again.