Hey! I started this before "The Look", but changed a lot of things before posting. Check out my song inspiration - "Meant to Be" by Chrisette Michelle. xo
"Ready to go?"
Olivia Pope shifted her eyes from the computer screen to the co-worker standing in front of her. He seemed to be in an extra friendly mood and she couldn't figure out why.
Her boss, Cyrus Beene, paired her with Fitzgerald Grant, a senior advertising manager, to embark on a five-city tour to promote the company to interested parties and investors. Fitz - the nickname everyone called him - was the best in his department, and so was she - one of the best communication directors on the East Coast.
"Yes."
Rising to collect her purse, coat, and luggage, Olivia walked past Fitzgerald to say goodbyes to Cyrus and others, heading towards the awaiting taxi.
"It's going to be great, Olivia. I'm excited to be working with you," Fitz commented. Olivia didn't answer, just focusing on the task at hand. Getting to the airport and reviewing her speaking points.
When she received the email from Cyrus that Fitz Grant would be accompanying her to Atlanta, Charlotte, Milwaukee, Chicago, and Dallas, to represent The Beene Agency, she had to rack her brain to visualize who that was. They never worked together. Different campaigns, separate tracks. They had only seen each other during lunch breaks, the holiday parties and summer cookouts. Their worlds did not intersect. Until now.
The drive to Reagan National was a bit of a letdown because Fitz liked to talk. Olivia did not. Her mindset was work. All the time.
The Beene Agency had grown to 150 employees, thanks to the passion of Pope and Grant. Hitting the pavement at any convenient time, pulling out all the stops to catapult the marketing firm. On paper, this would be a great combination. Powerhouse. She could manage how the company looked and he would sell it.
Settled on the plane, Olivia checked her email account one more time. There was a list of things to do once they landed at each city. A list of pros and cons. Even a note about how some people were doubting her abilities.
"I am great at my job. I left my other job to be here. You are not going to be responsible for my failure. I kick ass. "
"Is that your mantra, Miss Pope?"
Olivia darted her eyes at the brunette, who had a sneaky grin on his face. Her
quiet pep talk wasn't as hushed as she thought.
"Sure."
What she did failed to acknowledge was that she had noticed him more after Cyrus' revelation. She knew he was watching her. Likewise, shooting glances his way to watch how he interacted with others made her hour more exciting. She didn't intend it to get this far with him. Something just clicked a week prior. It was a treat to see him from afar.
Fitz would casually stop by her office to give her agendas or mock ups, which she would firmly accept or deny. Then, scribble down notes, drafting statements to release, allowing him to leave. She never wanted him in her office. But he would keep visiting. Or try. She urged him to just send the information by email, it would cut down time. As well as eliminate any confusing signs.
"Maybe I need the exercise while sitting at my desk or before a speech all day long," he smartly answered with a lazy smile forming on his lips.
Olivia raised her eyebrow, very skeptical of his intentions.
"Okay, Mr. Grant."
Olivia was very professional. Unless the people were in her immediate department, she would only refer to individuals with a Miss, Mister, or Mrs., followed by a last name. It was easier to keep the distance.
"Shall we," Fitz asked.
Olivia politely nodded, looking straight ahead.
After their first day of successful meetings and company meals, they reached the hotel. Nice accommodations - the rooms were across from each other. Olivia tucked herself away whenever they were not required to interact. Fitz was puzzled, but kept his distance.
The next morning they were off to Chicago. Everything went smoothly, even with the short amount of prep time. During their afternoon slot, Fitzgerald stood in front of a crowd, with flashy projections, laminated booklets, and an award-winning smile, to win them over. Shortly after, Olivia would connect with the bigwigs, ensuring that connecting with The Beene Agency would be the best decision made.
But the secretary had fucked up and booked one room for the rest of the trip. Olivia inwardly groaned when the receptionist handed her just one envelope.
"Can you see if there is anything left," she asked with urgency. Keeping her voice to not make a fuss, mainly to avoid Fitzgerald's potential concern. She couldn't spend a night with him so close.
"I'm sorry, Miss Pope. We don't have any extra rooms."
She lowered her head in disappointment, ready to tell her partner. A deep breath to channel her no-nonsense/bearer of crappy news facade.
"So, Cyrus' brilliant secretary only booked one room. How in the hell does that happen?"
Fitz's eyebrows raised. He looked surprised, but wasn't as mortified as Olivia was when she received the news.
"Okay."
"I'll try to be as quick as possible in the shower," she quickly explained. "I'll be out of your way for the rest of the night. Hopefully we can amend this, maybe get a refund or credit for next time."
Fitz calmly replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "It will be fine. We're professionals. Stuff happens."
Olivia frowned, while Fitz made his way towards the elevator. Pressing the button, he turned to find that she had not moved from the lobby.
"Coming?"
"Yeah."
"Which bed do you want, Olivia?"
The two stood in the hallway, observing their space for the next 12 hours.
"It's whatever."
Fitz dropped his luggage, clearly frustrated with Olivia's blasé attitude. "I know this is not convenient. Do you want me to sleep on the couch? Will that make you feel more comfortable?"
"Absolutely not," she declared. "That's horrible. Two beds. Just pick one."
Fitz shrugged. "Okay." Launching his body on the bed, he claimed which mattress would be his.
Not wanting to interact, Olivia took a shower. The time alone was therapeutic. Feeling the hot droplets on her skin, washing off the stress. It gave her a few minutes to get away from the watchful eye of Fitz Grant. But her mind wandered. She remembered how whenever Fitz twisted his lips while was deep in thought, it fascinated her. Or how he would always offer to help her out of the cab or SUV. Feeling the spark in their fingertips - maybe it would translate well on the rest of her body. Sitting next to this man for hours had a way of putting her in a spell. His cologne, his height, his hearty laugh. Pretty much everything about Fitzgerald Grant was appealing. Thinking about him led her to find a quick session with her fingers. Olivia kept her mouth closed so that he wouldn't hear that she was reaching for an orgasmic completion.
Feeling that the water had turned cold, woke Olivia out of her stupor. Turning the spout off and rushing to get dried off, Olivia willed her thoughts into submission and focused on more pressing issues. Such as, would room service bring her a bowl of popcorn and a glass of red. Anything to dull the rising lustful thoughts she was having for Fitzgerald Grant.
Olivia was braiding her hair, twisting the full strands into coils, tucking it underneath her scarf. Utilizing the moments she had left before Fitz would come back from his shower. They exchanged spots as she emerged from the bathroom, with her hair wrapped in a shower cap and a robe, while he took his clothes and soap. When he locked the door, Olivia rushed to change into her silk pajama set. Thankfully, she only packed conventional night clothes - long sleeved shirt and pants. Nothing to expose or tempt while he was nearby.
Fitz reappeared after being in the bathroom for fifteen minutes or so. When he turned the corner to tuck his items in his suitcase, Olivia nearly choked.
"Oh. I'm sorry," she stammered, covering her eyes. Olivia did not want to think about her co-worker being shirtless, only in pajama pants that were hitting his waistline at the right spot. She wasn't a prude, but checking him out wasn't on her list of things to do.
Fitz was puzzled by her apology, then he laughed. "Damn, I forgot. But it's okay. I have nothing to hide."
"It doesn't matter," Olivia interjected. "You don't have all your clothes on."
"I, uh, didn't bring a shirt," Fitz scratched the back of his head nervously. The muscles displayed weren't helping his cause. "I never wear a shirt during bed."
Rolling her eyes, she replied, "Okay."
"Olivia, seriously. If I'm making you uncomfortable, I'll sleep in the living room."
"I'm clearly overreacting. It's fine," she explained, deciding to unveil her eyes. Trying not to ogle, she did appreciate his physique. For someone who was living and breathing just to accomplish his work, Mr. Grant sure did know how to keep in shape.
Their eyes locked. She couldn't breathe. That was a problem.
"Olivia?"
"What? Yes?"
"Are you alright?"
Blinking fast, she dismissed him. "Nothing."
Once again, Mary, Cyrus' long-suffering secretary, had not been as specific about their sleeping arrangements. It was like she was doing this on purpose. Like some higher being needed them to be with each other at all times. The other two cities granted them the same fate. One bedroom with two queen beds. After having a cursing fit under her breath, Olivia followed Fitz to their room. The same routine followed. Avoiding each other whenever they needed to. But they weren't going to harass the front desk staff. They just acted like it had been planned. One positive of this snafu was being able to work on presentations without calling or pacing from room-to-room. It became clear that they worked very well together.
Day four was important, presenting material to a small group of investors. The ones that Cyrus needed to keep the company going. Olivia wasn't playing around. In a bright red peplum dress, paired with black pumps, and a pearl necklace, she was going to win them over. This woman would be the only one they would hear. Regardless of what her partner-in-crime would do. She was going to seal the deal.
Draping her coat over her arm, Olivia entered the lobby. Fitz had gone downstairs to get a cup of coffee and give her some extra private time.
"Good morning," she greeted. "Are you ready?"
Fitz slowly raised his head, but immediately dropped his jaw. "Wow."
"What?"
"Nothing," he coyly replied, shrugging.
Olivia gave him a side eye. "Just spit out."
"You look very nice, Olivia."
Olivia felt a blush rise. Now being very aware of her curves that were prominently featured while wearing this dress, she tried to cover up with her
Coat.
"Thank you," she quietly acknowledged. "So do you."
He did. In a dark grey suit, Fitz commanded attention. He was tall with a great head of hair. His ensemble did not go unnoticed. But she couldn't let him know. Not yet.
Backstage at the convention center, Olivia reviewed her speaking points. Walking back and forth helped her get into a suitable rhythm. Helped her to breathe better.
"You know you pace in circles when you're really thinking about something."
"Huh?"
Olivia found Fitz standing nearby. "I've noticed. That's what you do."
Olivia lazily rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
"Hi."
His baritone voice made her skin pebble with goosebumps. It didn't make sense that he would have that kind of power over her.
"Hi."
It didn't matter what was going on, their simple greetings erased every tension.
"Liv."
Olivia jolted; no one called her that, other than Cyrus, his parents, and very close friends. But meeting his eyes, that were so blue, surprisingly calmed her down. Her breathing settled. The nerves dissipated.
"There you are."
How could he do such a thing? Simply wait for her to come back to him?
Fitz placed his hands on her shoulders, assuring her in a low tone. "You're going to do great today, Liv. Think about what you say in the car every morning. You're going to knock this out of the park. Trust yourself. I do."
"Thank you...Fitzgerald."
"You can call me Fitz, you know," he suggested. "We're not strangers."
Olivia curtly responded, "I don't feel it's appropriate at this time."
"Okay. Hopefully it will be sometime soon."
"I would like to call up to the stage, Miss Olivia Pope, of The Beene Agency."
The presentation was a huge success. Over a celebratory meal of pepperoni pizza and wine back at the hotel, Olivia and Fitz exchanged life stories. Where they had been before answering Cyrus' call at the Agency. There was more in common than expected. Only children. Many years of travel. Failed romances. A panache for the outdoors. He got her to laugh several times, which made his night.
By the end of the night, they were sitting on Olivia's bed. She was lying on her stomach and Fitz was sprawled out on the mattress. And there, the casual routine of eyefucking had continued. But this time around, there was actual physical contact. A few shoulder nudges and shoves. A poke here and there. Their fingers had touched again - her index casually sliding in between his pointer and middle fingers. Olivia would turn away quickly, not wanting him to see how her cheeks had reddened. Because it felt so good. So sensual. So fucking comfortable. How could something as simple as this be incredibly sexy?
"You're beautiful."
That familiar heat that Olivia had been craving while in the shower the day before, was rising. Olivia focused her gaze on his eyes, then to his lips. If she hadn't bitten in the inside of her cheek, she would reached to touch those lips, and most likely more would happened.
"Oh, damn. It's getting late."
"Yeah. But it's not like you have anywhere to go. You're already on your bed," he teased. But Olivia wasn't falling for that.
It was getting a bit awkward. So, Fitz took it upon himself to clear off the plates and glasses. "Are you staying up?"
"Yeah," Olivia cleared her throat, grabbing her laptop. "Need to wrap up a few things. Since we have the flight at 11:30."
Fitz replied, "Okay. It was great to talk to you, outside of work shit. G'nite, Liv."
An hour later, Olivia was still awake. She missed her own bed. But more importantly, the thrill of connecting with Fitz was not letting her fall asleep.
Olivia faced his side of the room. Fitz was dead asleep, snoring, but only lightly. Looked very comfortable. Still shirtless. A quick stop to Target couldn't resolve this issue? It was on her to-do list. But that wasn't the problem. She was drawn to something in him. The chemistry was growing but she was at odds with herself on how she was feeling. A thought came to her. Maybe if she just laid in the same bed as him. Nothing sexual. Just finding the comfort she needed in someone's arms, that would help her drift off to sleep. The chemicals that released in touch was vital to her being. She needed something good.
Not wanting to stir him, Olivia quietly lifted the comforter, sneaking her way next to him. As if he was fragile or hot to the touch, Olivia slowly placed her arm around his waist. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. It was a bold move, but that was her thing - calculating the right time to implement. Fitz hadn't budged. She could feel his heartbeat, which soon regulated how her heart was moving.
Within minutes, she fell asleep.
The sunlight warmed her face as Olivia lifted her shoulders. Then she noticed,
that her position had shifted from hours before. She was the one being spooned. Somehow during the course of the night, their legs had become tangled. His arm nestled under her own. It felt amazing but she couldn't be in his arms when they finally start the day. That would lead to so many questions that she was not willing to answer.
"Shit," she mumbled, pulling herself out of the bed. "Damnit!"
Looking for her bag, Olivia thought of every excuse to make when she would get asked. The springs were too hard. Being next to the window made everything cold. Bed bugs.
"Liv?"
The groggy tones of his sexy voice alerted her. Removing her scarf, Olivia started with her usual flat response, "What?"
"Why did you leave?"
Olivia lied, "I have to pee."
"Oh," Fitz answered, rubbing his eyes and combing his hair with his fingers. Olivia noticed how curly and fluffy his hair could be.
"Will you come back? It's only 7, and we don't have to leave until 9."
"Don't think so."
"Oh." This time his response was filled with more disappointment.
"I have to do my hair."
"It takes two hours?"
Olivia's nose flared. "Yeah, if I want it to look amazing. You know, forget this happened."
Fitz was now sitting up. The view of having this man half naked in bed was equally incredible and frustrating. "Absolutely not, given that you came into my bed? Which now becomes a point of interest for me. I'm not judging you. Were you okay? What happened?"
"Please stop talking."
"Why?"
"Because I would like you to."
Olivia raced to collect her personal items, so she could spend a half hour alone to clear her thoughts.
What a careless error on her part.