“Where were you all morning?” she asked.

“Who are you talking to?” he ignored her question and asked his own.

“Oh, Nick wanted me to call him, say hi,” she said, lowering herself and rolling to the side so Jameson could see the computer screen.

“Oh god,” he groaned.

“Hi, Jameson!” Nick's voice called out. “Still a little ray of sunshine, I see!”

Jameson gave him the finger.

“You boys,” Tate said in a teasing voice, rolling back so she was in front of the screen again.

“I'll let you go. I just wanted to say hi, really. Have a good trip, and be nice to him,” Nick instructed. Tate guffawed.

“Are you joking? I'm always nice to him,” she said.

“Lies,” Jameson called out from behind her.

“I know how you are, so stop bitching all the time and just appreciate the good stuff,” Nick told her. She gasped.

“I take back every nasty thing I said about you,” Jameson added, and Nick laughed.

“Okay, yeah, this conversation needs to end before something weird happens, like you two becoming friends,” Tate grumbled.

“It was good talking to you. Keep in touch,” Nick said. She nodded.

“Always. Give my love to Laura, and big sloppy kisses to Jake,” she told him.

“Give my love to Laura, too!” Jameson yelled. Nick snorted.

“I'll talk to you later.”

Tate blew him a kiss, then the screen went dark. She sighed and closed the laptop. Laid her cheek against her hands. She hummed to herself, lazily kicking her feet in the air while she thought about their conversation. “Sometimes things move fast,” he'd said – but why? Why was everyone being so weird?

“He just wanted to say hi?” Jameson asked from behind her.

“Mmmm hmmm,” she replied.

“That's nice. I guess.”

“What've you been up to?” she asked with a yawn.

“Picking up these contracts from my lawyer. What we came here for,” he told her.

“Does this mean we're going home?” she guessed.

“Not quite yet.”

Tate was about to question him further when something landed against her lower back. She lifted herself onto her elbows, trying to look over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a dark green folder laying on top of her. She could also see Jameson walking away from her, heading back into the kitchen.

“What is this?” she grumbled, reaching back behind her and trying to get ahold of the folder.

“Something you need to look over, before tonight,” he said as she swung around into a sitting position, crossing her legs. She glanced at him. He was standing in the kitchen area, drinking from a bottle of Perrier.

“Your contract stuff? Why do you want me to look over it?” Tate asked with a laugh, opening the folder and flipping through the pages. A couple words jumped out at her and she stopped laughing. Stopped flipping. Moved back to the first page.

“Because, we need to talk about it. It's the reason why we came here,” he told her simply. Tate's eyes flew over the words.

“But …, you said you had to talk to your lawyer …, about a merger. Your will,” she reminded him. Reminded herself. She was so confused. She skipped to the next page.

“I did. My will is over here, you can look at it next,” he promised. She swallowed thickly and slowly stood up, her hands starting to shake.

“Jameson,” she said his name slowly as she flipped to the last page.

“Yes?”

“Is this what I think it is?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you think it is. Your brain is one of the weirdest fucking places I've ever been, I have no clue what you're thinking,” he laughed.

It wasn't funny.

“What the fuck is this!?” she demanded, skipping back to the middle of the document. Terms like “property division” and “life style” and “mutual assets” leapt out at her. Swam around in her vision.

“I told you, it's what we came here for,” he repeated himself. She stared at him.

“Jameson, this is a goddamn prenup.”

“I know.”

“Why do you have a prenup?”

“Because I'm not fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, but why are you handing it to me right now!?”

“Did you wake up stupid? Why are we even having this conversation? Oh, you need a pen. Here, you can sign at the bottom, on the back,” Jameson informed her, walking towards her with a pen in his outstretched hand. She slapped the Mont Blanc away.

“Are you fucking shitting me!? Who are you marrying? Cause it sure as shit isn't me,” she snapped. He rolled his eyes.

“Okay, before you flip out, just let me talk to yo-,”

“You flew me all the way to Hong Kong so your lawyer could draw up a prenuptial agreement? That's your idea of marriage!?” Tate demanded. She was breathing so hard, she felt like she was going to hyperventilate.

“No, that's my idea of what's necessary before marriage. A marriage involves other documents, which are in the folder with my will. It also requires a certified officiant and witnesses, so sign the fucking prenup so we can meet up with them and get this bullshit over with,” Jameson growled.

“Oh my god. This is really your idea of a proposal, isn't it?” she gasped. “Is this a fucking joke?”