Reparation (The Kane Trilogy, #3)(80)

“Jameson Kane got you that?” he asked, surprise obvious in his voice. She nodded.

“You see, we ..., it's a long story,” she sighed, sitting the box on the table, leaving it open.

“So strange. Look, what I was saying was, maybe we could go upstairs, and continue our discussion,” Nick said, leaning his elbow on her chair.

“Hmmm?” she asked absent-mindedly, staring at the pearls.

You thought he was trying to buy you. He asked you to listen. Are you listening now?

“You know, what we've been talking about,” Nick pressed, trailing his fingertip in a circle on her arm.

“What?” she asked, not able to tear her eyes away from the box.

He's hearing you. Really hearing you. He didn't run away. You ran away. Hear him.

“What we've been talking about. You, me,” Nick lead her along.

“I don't ..., know what ...,” she couldn't form coherent thoughts. Jameson was in her head, taking up all the space, forcing everything out.

“... you're willing to try it all out with him? Let me try it out with you ...”

“You and me, moving in together,” Nick finally spelled it out. She lifted her eyes to his. Really looked at him.

“... That's all I came here to do ... to give you whatever you want ...”

All I ever wanted was for him to love me.

Hear him.

“I'm sorry,” Tate breathed.

Nick blinked in surprise, clearly confused for a moment. Then he looked at the box. Back at her. Then the box. Realization dawned across his face and his smile fell away. His eyes found hers, and she started to cry again.

“I see,” he whispered back.

“I'm so sorry,” Tate babbled. “I'm so, so sorry. I tried. I really tried. You are one of the best people I've ever known. You're smart and funny and sexy, and everything. You're everything. I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm just this horrible, demon, person, thing -,”

“Hey, hey, it's okay. Stop,” Nick urged, cupping her face in his hands.

“No, it's not okay. This is what I was so scared of, I didn't want to use you. I didn't want to hurt you,” she cried. The people around them were starting to look uncomfortable, but she didn't care.

“I'm okay. I mean, I'm not gonna lie, it kinda hurts to come in second,” he managed a laugh, and her heart broke a little for the beautiful, amazing man in front of her. “But somehow, I don't think I was ever really in the running.”

“I tried,” she whispered.

“I know,” he whispered back.

“Please, don't hate me. I can't stand the thought of you hating me,” she begged, and he outright laughed.

“Tatum O'Shea, I could never hate you. I just hope that while you're jet setting, or vacationing in Monaco, or lounging in the Hamptons, that sometimes you'll think of me,” he told her.

“Nick, I could never forget you,” she laughed as well.

“You sure about that? I'm not a mutli-millionaire, or an aspiring porn star,” he teased.

“No. You're better.”

“Don't you forget it. Now, get out of here. You're cramping my style. I was very set on not going home alone tonight, and the girl I had my eye on is taken,” he told her, playfully shoving her head away. She laughed.

“The girl you had your eye on is stupid,” she sniffled, wiping at her nose with a napkin.

“Sometimes. But sometimes, she's pretty great.”

She leaned forward and kissed him, just softly, on the lips. She felt his hand on the back of her neck, for the briefest moment, then he pulled away. He smiled at her, wiped at the edge of her bottom lip with his thumb, then nodded. He grabbed her jewelry box, snapping it closed before handing it over.

“Alright. Make sure he works for it – that guy's an ass-hole,” he warned her. She stood up and nodded, wiping at her eyes.

“I know. Haven't you learned yet? That's exactly my type,” she joked.

“Jesus, I really never stood a chance.”

“Is it okay if I call you?” she asked.

“You had better. Now go.”

She walked out of the conference room. Dashed across the lobby. Ran up to the elevators. She hopped from foot to foot, struggling to take off her heels. The elevator doors finally opened and she hopped inside, managing to get one shoe off. A little girl, clearly straight from the pool, walked onto the elevator as well, hugging a huge towel around her body. The doors slid shut and Tate hit the button for the second to highest floor.

“Hey,” Tate asked, bending down to take off her other shoe. “Do you have a hair tie I could borrow?”

“What?” the girl asked.

“A hair tie. I'll give you my shoes,” Tate laughed. The little girl pulled an elastic band off her wrist and handed it over.

“They won't fit me. Don't you need your shoes?” the girl asked, eyeballing Tate like she was insane.

“No, not where I'm going,” Tate replied, yanking her hair up into a high, messy ponytail.

“Where are you going?”

“To chase down a guy.”

“Your boyfriend?”

Tate laughed.

“No, not my boyfriend,” she replied.