Chapter Two – A beautiful little fool.
Fitz stood on the Presidential seal in an unseeing daze, looking at the door Olivia had exited through. His mind was racing. Fitz could still feel her tentative lips on his and the sexy, soft sound of her moaning into his mouth.
It was the same moment, over and over.
Her lips and then a soft, low moan.
When Fitz finallyemerged from his dazed stupor he fixed himself another drink and sat on the overstuffed couch, bent forward over his spread legs, as if bracing himself against the chaos of his mind. He felt so out of control, so unlike himself, he'd kissed an intern. He'd KISSED an intern. In the Oval. And propositioned her. And she'd kissed him back. What had possessed him to say those things to her?
I just can't seem to control myself around you
Did he really say that?
I don't think I can stay away from you now I've found you.
How could he have been so reckless?
You need to go before I lay you out and fuck you on my desk.
Good God!
If anyone, if Mellie, or Cyrus or – heaven forbid – the press ever found out that he'd put his entire presidency, a lifetime's work at risk because of his inability to behave appropriately around this girl they'd…well, it wouldn't be good, for either of them.
Fitz looked at his Scotch with the air of a man contemplating the very depths of his soul rather than a 21-year-old, single malt. This God-damn liquor was older than her, for Christ's sake!
He'd had no intention, when he asked Mrs Hanley to find out if she was working late, to put either of them in so precarious a position. He'd intended to talk to her, to see how her week had gone. Maybe to see her smile. He wasn't kidding when he said he couldn't seem to stay away from her. But then she'd cried and he'd seen the brave face she'd put on crumble before him, seen the stress his attention had brought upon her. That crucial moment, I feel so safe here, with you. She'd whispered it against his chest and he was suddenly struck by how vulnerable she seemed, how fragile and precious. As if his heart suddenly existed outside himself and resided within this glorious girl and how he wanted to spirit her away from all the ills of the world, somewhere he could protect her.
But then, he thought to himself, maybe it's me she needs protecting from.
And therein lay the problem, how could he conduct himself with any sense of integrity when he was making sexual advances on a 19-year-old intern? That night Fitz sat looking at his drink for a long time, before admitting to himself that he'd crossed a line, a line that, until now, had separated him from every other sleazy politician who'd ever been caught up in a DC sex scandal. That he was nothing more than a clichéd middle-aged philanderer. And yet, when he remembered the sounds she'd made and the taste of her on his tongue, he felt something in his soul elevate.
Was this lust?
Was this why men did it?
It didn't feel wrong or sleazy, it felt…imperative, that Olivia be his, that they be together. He needed her in his life but he knew that to do so risked everything that he'd ever worked for. That to be with Olivia would never look like anything other than an older, powerful man manipulating a young woman, overwhelming her. Exploiting her. And, if he was honest with himself, he couldn't truthfully say if that wasn't the case anyway. That was really the crux of the whole matter.
He'd told her that they couldn't stop. That he had to keep seeing her. But he realised the exact opposite was true. He had to put an end to it before he destroyed them both. No matter what he might be feeling it wasn't worth risking her future for. He had to leave her alone and forget about her.
Fitz felt his mind begin to calm. This was it, this was what he had to do.
He knew that now.
It was this train of thought that gave Fitz the impetuous set down his untouched Scotch and return to the Residence and finally, to sleep.
xXx
The next day Olivia decided to spend her weekend just relaxing at home. After a day spent doing laundry at the launderette down the road and tidying up, she got some popcorn, a bottle of wine and put on her comfiest PJs. She put on a film she had been saving for a quiet night in on her DVR and did her nails.
But all the while she was thinking of the President.
Wondering when she would next see him.
Would he kiss her again?
Would he keep his promise of being discrete?
She found herself hoping that he wouldn't be too careful, but maybe he had said that partly for his own benefit more than her own? He was married after all.
Suddenly Olivia's mood took a nose dive. She'd fallen in love with a married man. He wasn't available and she didn't want to be a home wrecker. She felt so conflicted. She couldn't quite summon any genuine guilt about flirting with the President, not even about kissing him, despite the wedding ring on his finger. Olivia spent the weekend feeling miserable about her lack of morals and drinking more cheap Merlot than was good for her. She only knew that he smelled like home and she wanted him to wrap his strong arms around her and never let go.
By the time Monday morning rolled around Olivia had come to an understanding with herself. Two days of solid, isolated introspection had helped her to realise the truth.
She was in love with President Grant.
On a rational level she knew it was foolish to have fallen so fast and hard for a man who was almost completely unavailable in every way. That just because her insides liquified every time she remembered him kissing her, or that because she felt so safe in his arms, it didn't mean she was important to him. How could she be? She was no-one special. There was no reason on this Earth why a man as important and powerful as Fitzgerald Grant III should find her remarkable.
For all she knew President Grant had a steady stream of interns and assistants and God knows who else running through the Oval.
Deep down, Olivia didn't think that Fitz would ever exploit her in such a callous way. She didn't believe that what they shared was some tawdry power game. But, if that was all was on offer then it would be enough. Whatever he wanted to give her, it would be enough.
Because the one thing that Olivia knew for sure was that she was a woman in love, with a incredible man.
Is someone else who found themselves contemplating a devastating love affair with the leader of the free world would have asked her what she thought she would have asked them, are you out of your damn mind? Because, really, what kind of fool would she be if she let herself lose everything she'd worked so hard for? The life she wanted was so nearly within reach. If she could forget about President Grant and keep her head down and work hard she could have the life she'd always wanted.
For a moment she allowed herself to really feel the pain of imagining her life stretching on ahead without President Grant's kind, crinkly eyes and crooked smile. Without that sense of absolute security she felt whenever he was near. She heard a small voice in her head that whispered,
We can't stop.
"Pass?"
"I'm sorry?" Olivia's mind was miles away, in the arms of Fitzgerald Grant.
"I need to see your pass, ma'am," the guard in the booth repeated.
Somehow Olivia had managed her entire commute without noticing. She handed her intern badge to the man on the gate. "Olivia Pope," she smiled as she had done every day of her internship.
The guard swiped her pass and waved her through.
xXx
Oliva stood in the Deputy Chief of Staff's office along with Lauren Romano, the various departmental heads, their senior assistants and her fellow interns. Mark Walsh, Deputy to Chief of Staff Cyrus Beene, was going to be running the trade negotiations with China next year and so was heavily involved in the preliminary talks that would be taking place next month.
"Lauren, I need background on the key players in the Chinese government involved with these talks," Mark reeled off the names of the key players and, as Lauren nodded, Olivia and her fellow interns were furiously scribing notes on exactly what Mark needed.
The briefing done, Lauren and the interns returned to the meeting room they had been using for research.
Lauren stood in front of the group, "I don't need to tell you how important it is that we have a thorough and precise understanding of the people we will be dealing with when we get to China," Lauren began. "The success of the talks next year will be decided by the people involved and we need to be as prepared as possible. So, Charlie and Jake, I want you to focus on the senior economic advisor, He Lui, Harrison, Abby and Olivia you are going to look at the Minister of Commerce. Gao Hucheng and his aides and Huck and Quinn you will look at Yang Yi and his team at the FECC. Anything you think might be useful in giving President Grant an edge next month."
The air in the room felt thick with inertia. Lauren looked from face to face. Clearly there was something unresolved between the interns, "Ok, whatever this is," she gestured vaguely from person to person, "you need to get over it. Yesterday! There is no room in the West Wing for personal grievances. If you find yourself unable to conduct yourself in a professional manner," Abbey snorted at this, "In a professional manner," Lauren continued, shooting Abbey a glare, "then your time on this programme will be at an end. Do I make myself clear?" She asked the room at large.
"Yes, Ma'am," Harrison volleyed back.
Variously the other interns answered in the affirmative, Abbey last of all.
After Lauren had departed Olivia decided this was the moment she'd been waiting for. If she was really going to do this, be in love with President Grant, she had to kill the rumours before they started. It was the only way that they'd ever get a chance at happiness. She had to face this thing head on. She turned to Abbey and Harrison. "How do you want to do this?" She asked. "Do you want to work as a group or divide it up?"
Abbey gave Olivia a look of sheer loathing and turned her back on her, "Do you hear something?" She asked Harrison.
Charlie, Jake, Huck and Quinn stood watching, their faces tracking from Olivia to Abbey then from Abbey to Olivia. Their tit for tat volley so fascinating they didn't even try to pretend they weren't watching.
Olivia walked around so that she was facing Abbey. "Do you have a problem?" She asked.
Abbey just snorted and looked away.
"I said," Olivia repeated, "do you have a problem?"
"Yes," Abbey snapped back. "I do. I have a problem working with someone who isn't serious about politics, someone who uses her body instead of her mind to get ahead."
Olivia gasped a little at this.
"Its women like you that hold us all back." Abbey spat out at her.
"Let me be very clear," Olivia straightened her spine, held her head up high. "I have done nothing to be ashamed of," it was a lie, but it didn't feel like a lie. "You don't know what you're talking about," this at least was true. "I am deadly serious about politics, and I will not let you, or anybody else dictate how I conduct myself in any professional capacity. Now tell me how you want to work this, or you can go to Lauren and tell her that you are leaving the programme. Because I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere!" Olivia's small frame was quivering with the force of her conviction; her chest was heaving as she caught her breath. She'd heard the lies come out of her mouth but somehow, somehow, it still felt like the truth. It still felt like her.
Nobody in the room made a sound. You could have heard a pin drop.
Abbey thinned her lips a little at this and cocked her head. She gave Olivia a searching look. "Well, Ok then. Let's get to work."
And as one the other interns breathed out and began their research.
xXx
Olivia was careful not to stay late alone that night. She made sure she left at the same time as everyone else, even if, really, she would have liked to stay and hash out some more of the background of the aide she was covering.
Liar said that treacherous voice at the back of her mind.
Ok, so even if, really, she would have liked to stay and be summoned to the Oval and into his arms.
Walking out of the building that evening without seeing him, hearing his voice. Feeling his arms around her, his breath on her face, was one of the hardest things she had ever done. Olivia made sure she was seen swiping out before heading home.
"Olivia!" Huck shouted out to her, running after her as she strode to the metro.
Olivia stopped and turned around. She smiled, she liked Huck.
"You did real good today, with Abbey and the others. She won't bother you anymore." Huck spoke to her while looking at the ground slightly to the left of her shoes.
"Thanks, Huck," Olivia said. "You wanna go get something to eat? There's a good noodle bar on the way to the metro, if you have time?" She didn't want to be alone right now. She felt so bereft. How would she ever manage to spend time with President Grant again?
"I like noodles," Huck replied. Olivia took this to mean he did want to go eat and the two of them began to walk along.
They grabbed a table in the window of the restaurant. It was one of those all-night noodle bars that had zero ambiance with tables and chairs fixed to the floor. They sat down with their food and began to eat in a companionable silence. One of the things Olivia found so soothing about Huck was that he didn't demand conversation. She felt her mind drift back to last night. Her stomach flipped over when she recalled the things President Grant had said to her.
You need to go before I lay you out and fuck you on my desk.
Her mind flashed to images of her kissing him while he walked her back her to his desk and picked her up so she sat on it. She imagined him standing in between her spread legs, kissing her while his hands ran up her thighs, under her skirt, between her legs.
Yes, Mr President.
"They won't bother you about it again now," Huck stated to the table, apparently just picking up their earlier conversation where they had left off.
"Oh?" was all Olivia could manage while she mentally changed gears.
"But you might need to be more careful about who you tell." Huck paused and looked Olivia dead in the eye, "about your late-night visits to The Oval."
Olivia felt herself flushing. She smiled and shook her head.
"It's not what you think. Nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen. I'm not that girl. I may have let myself get distracted but…Nothing happened." She almost believed it herself.
Huck didn't react to this, he merely sat and finished his ramen.
xXx
Disappointment was not a feeling Fitz had had much experience with, so he didn't immediately recognise what the heavy feeling of wasted potential that lay on his shoulders was that evening.
Despite his resolve not to see Olivia again he'd spent all day thinking about her. He'd had to force himself not to crowd Olivia, not to go the daily briefing. He'd deliberately kept himself occupied in meetings all day.
He'd had a particularly unpleasant half hour with the new British ambassador, Sir Rupert Trevellyan. He was an odious man with a terrible reputation for lechery. Fitz had had to bite his tongue on more than one occasion. The comments he made about some of the women working in the White House were appalling.
The arrogance of some British diplomats really pissed him off. Fitz could tell immediately that this guy thought he was the superior of every single person in the room just because his Great, Great Grandfather had had ties with some branch of the British royal family 100 years ago. Well, so what? Fitz's family went all the way back to the 1800's, and they had more money than this little prick would ever see in his lifetime.
Fitz had felt his fists twitch when Sir Trevellyan had made that crack about Mark Walsh's PA when she brought him the papers needed to verify Trevellyan's diplomatic credentials. "That," he'd pointed at Tina, "is a world class bit of totty," he opined, sotto voce. Fitz knew that Tina had heard it, and worse, seen him smile and nod in response. He wasn't sure what he hated more, Tina thinking he was complicit in this guy's assholery or having to pander to his misogyny in the name of diplomacy.
What a fucked-up world it was.
The idea of Tina being reduced to a world class bit of totty was infuriating. She was fantastic at her job. She had a masters from Cornell for Christ's sake! It really was a man's world, Fitz thought. And his recent behaviour toward Olivia was hardly a ringing endorsement of the women's lib movement.
What a God-damn mess, Fitz thought to himself.
He'd finished all his paperwork for the evening. There was just one dossier left on his desk. Fitz poured himself a generous Scotch, picked up the dossier and sat back on the sofa. An intelligence report indicating that there was an increase in chatter on the dark web. There was the suggestion that this might be a pre-indicator of a major financial services hack.
Perfect.
Fitz felt the Scotch begin to soften his focus, taking the edge off.
He continued to read;
It is therefore recommended that additional security measures are taken to limit your exposure to risk.
Fitz allowed himself a wry smile. That's good advice, he thought to himself.
xXx
Two hours later, Fitz lay in his bed, a half empty glass of Scotch on the bedside table.
Mellie was away in Connecticut, officially at a fundraiser for her children's vaccination programme but really, Fitz knew, she was spending a few nights with one of her many lovers. He didn't know which one. Fitz knew it should bother him a lot more than it did, but honestly, it was a relief not to have to make small talk and put on a show for the household staff. They hadn't shared a bed for years but somehow, just knowing she was there in the next room always set his teeth on edge.
Fitz fell into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning. He began to dream that he was searching for something, frantically running from room to room, looking for something. There were people everywhere in the house. But it wasn't the residence, it was the West Wing. And the people were working but they were like statues, neither moving nor talking. He could hear a rough buzzing sound like some sort of interference filling his ears. He ran from person to person shaking them by the shoulders and trying to shout Where is she? Where is she?But his mouth was glued shut so his voice sounded all muffled. Nobody moved or reacted to him at all.
No one could help him find her.
And then suddenly, in the next room was Olivia. She stood looking out of the window with her back to him but he knew it was her. There was an aura of sunlight silhouetting her body. She turned around and smiled. A feeling of calm rolled over Fitz. The buzzing stopped and as he moved closer he heard her sigh,
Fitz. Fitz.
And, although he didn't speak in the dream, he heard himself whisper her name.
Olivia.
He woke up with her name echoing inside his skull, as though someone had screamed it into his ear. His clock showed it was 4:36am. Fitz lay back down and tried to calm himself enough to sleep.
He needed to see Olivia, to smell her, to hold her in his arms. How could he just let her slip through his fingers? But her future, her reputation…The same arguments that had made so much sense the night before seemed so irrelevant now. How was it possible to walk away from this? When he was so close to real happiness. Staying away from Olivia Pope was going to be much harder than he thought.
It was going to be a long week.
xXx
Tuesday morning dawned with the ringing of her alarm. And two hours later her morning routine deposited her at her desk.
Olivia had got to work before everyone else. She sat, working on her Chinese personnel research as they began to arrive. First, Charlie. A smile and a nod from him. Then Jake,
"Morning, Olivia, Charlie. Good Weekend?" He asked Olivia.
"Yeah, really good thanks," Olivia's mind flashed back to her weekend holed up in her horrible apartment, drinking all that wine and feeling utterly wretched. "How about you?"
"Just a few beers with the guys, you know?" Jake smiled at her.
"Yeah." No.
As they chatted the other came in. Huck, always quiet, came and sat next to her. As he did the other three came in, talking loudly about what had happened at the bar they went to on Friday night.
"You are such a man-whore!" Quinn laughed at Harrison who just laughed back. Neither of them acknowledged the others in the room.
"Morning, Olivia," Abbey said as she came in behind them.
"Hey, Abbey," Olivia replied.
Harrison walked over and stood between them. "Now, that's more like it," he put his arms around each of their shoulders. "The band is back together!" Everyone laughed, even Charlie and Jake. The shitty atmosphere of last week had been bad for everyone.
Olivia felt the lie flickering behind her eyes but willed herself not to show it.
"How you guys getting on with Commerce?" Charlie asked.
"Not bad, we have a couple of angles that look promising. Gao has a daughter about the same age of the First Daughter. He collects ceramics. There are a few things that might be useful. How about you guys?" Harrison asked him.
Before Charlie could reply Lauren came in. "That's good to hear. You can carry on with this today and tomorrow then we'll meet Mark and debrief on your findings. Please make sure you have a written report and summary emailed to me before the end of Wednesday. Also, in case you had forgotten. Your final rotation begins on Monday. You will be spending your final three weeks based with the Communications Directors Office. You need to have your application for your final assignment in by that first Friday. You can put your choices in priority order but be aware that only two of you will be successful in your application to work in this department. Decisions are final and not up for appeal. Assignments are made at our discretion and are not subject to external scrutiny. Ok, disclaimer over. I'll leave you to get on with your research." Lauren swept back out of the room as suddenly as she had entered it.
"You guys!" Quinn bounced over to Olivia's group. "So, what's your top choice?"
"Chief of Staff's office, obviously," Harrison said.
"Yeah, I mean, it's got to be. And Press for me. My top two." Added Abbey.
Olivia sensed that this was a test of sorts. "Well, I loved Press rotation. Admin not so much. And who knows what Comms will be like. I'll probably go Press then Chief of Staff." Olivia felt her heart break a little as she said it, of course she wanted to be as close to President Grant as possible but if she said this was her first choice they'd think it was because she was after the President.
But you are whispered that treacherous voice in her head.
"Really?" said Quinn. "I would've thought you'd want to be here more than anyone," she added.
"Quit it Quinn!" said Harrison
"I just meant 'cause it's so frickin' cool here, that's all." Quinn backpedalled.
"Nope, I mean I wouldn't say no but I think I'd be better in the Press department. Or Comms. You never know what that's going to be like."
"I could see you in Press," Abbey agreed.
"Yeah." Olivia said.
"Press."
From across the room Huck gave her a sideways look.
xXx
Somehow Olivia made it through to Wednesday evening. She felt like she was slowly drowning. Her thoughts keep circling back to the moment President Grant had kissed her, his voice and his hands on her waist. She wanted him. She wanted him to hold her, to stroke her hair. She wanted to look into his eyes. She wanted to sit on that sofa in the Oval with him while he made her a drink and asked her about her day. She wanted him to see him smile that special smile that made his eyes crinkle and soften. She was mentally exhausted, constantly having to refocus her attention on the task at hand. Having finished the bulk of her research, Olivia had just finished writing up her report. Most of the others had already left, it was just her and Jake left. She had wanted to check over her report one last time.
"You nearly done?" Jake asked her.
"Yeah, almost. You?"
"Yeah. You wanna get out of here and grab some dinner when you're done?"
Olivia's mind went blank for a moment. She couldn't think of a reason to say no, "Um, er, why not?"
Damn! She said to herself.
"Great, I know a place that does great Dim Sum."
"Great," Olivia gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
An hour later they were on their way out. Jake took her to a small shop a few streets away with a pink neon sign flashing 'Dumpling' in the window.
"Best Dim Sum in DC," Jake promised her, ushering her inside. Inside the building was bigger than it had appeared from outside.
"This place is like a Tardis, I know," Jake said.
Olivia smiled, thinking to herself, a what?
They sat on a small table tucked into an alcove and ordered their food. When it came Olivia realised she was starving and began to eat with gusto.
"These are really good," she enthused to Jake.
"Yeah, I told you. It's the best in DC. So you're at Georgetown? What's your major?"
"Poli-sci. I always dreamed of working at the White House," Olivia said.
"Well you've clearly made a big impression," Jake smiled as Olivia shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"What do you mean?" She knew exactly what he meant.
"Well," Jake smiled, "you know, with President Grant. I thought Lauren's eyes were going to pop out of her head when he called on you in that briefing." He leaned back in his chair, not taking his eyes off Olivia. "And then when he asked to speak to you outside, I mean every person in that room was wondering what the hell was going on!"
Olivia looked down and smiled. "Yeah," she agreed. "I would never have expected to even see him. That was really weird, right?" She looked him in the eyes.
"Really weird," Jake echoed. "Right." He didn't sound like he really agreed with her.
Olivia began to feel a needling sense of unease.
"I, I need to go or I'll miss my train. How much do I owe you?" She began to get her purse from under the table.
"No, no. I asked you. This is my treat, you can get the next one," as if there hadn't been any malice at all.
Later, on the train back to Brentwood, Olivia wondered if it had all been in her head. She shivered a little, despite the warmth of the car.
Because, the truth was, she knew it hadn't.
xXx
Only two more days.
Only two more days where she might see him.
Almost a whole week of thinking about President Grant without actually seeing him had made her feel edgy and desperate.
Why hadn't he tried to see her? He must know that it had to be him seeing her. She could hardly ask for access to the President!
Did she dare to stay late tonight? She wasn't going to get her final placement in the chief of staff's office. She'd already told the others that she wasn't going to apply for it as her top choice. It was unlikely that the President would cross her path in Comms or Press. Would he come to the briefing today? She found herself hoping that he would. She didn't even care if he drew attention to her. In fact, she wanted him to. She just wanted him to see her and to be close to her, even if it meant that none of the others spoke to her ever again.
At 10:30 am they assembled, Mark Walsh stood at the front of the room, ready to lead the meeting. Cyrus Beene stood to his side. Olivia felt a rush. He was going to come, she just knew it. The room seemed to be humming with electricity, her heart was pounding.
Mark Walsh help up his hands to quieten the room, "Morning, everyone."
And began the meeting.
Olivia didn't hear a word of it. Her eyes darting from door to door. Which way would he come in? He had to be close, the meeting would be over in 10 minutes.
"OK. Final order of business. The reports on the trade meetings. I…"
The doors swung open.
Olivia's vision blurred.
Finally!
And in walked President Grant, closely followed by The First Lady, Millicent 'Mellie' Grant in a royal blue skirt and jacket, with her hair perfectly coiffed, in heels so high she was nearly the same height as her husband.
Everyone in the room straightened up as Mark fell silent. Olivia thought she might pass out, disappointment and panic sweeping through her like a wildfire.
Not again, thought Mark.
The First Lady began to speak, "Good Morning, everyone. I just wanted to drop in before I have to leave, again. My wonderful husband has been telling me how hard everyone has been working for his visit to China and I just wanted to come and tell you what a great job you've all been doing. My husband and I, well, we sincerely appreciate all your efforts."
Olivia's eyes were on Fitz as Mellie waxed lyrical on the qualities of the White House staff. He was stood next to Mellie, looking at her with a tight smile on his face.
Look at me, please.
Please look at me.
Please.
I need you.
Fitz.
Olivia was shouting at him in her mind and as she said his name in her head his face turned, slightly. A small movement and his eyes flicked up to meet hers. For an instant. Just an instant before they snapped back to Mellie.
To her absolute horror, Olivia felt her eyes begin to well up. Who was he right now? Standing there, with his hard eyes, letting his wife speak for him?
I've been such a fool she thought to herself.
"Thank you, Madam First Lady," Cyrus spoke up as Mellie finished her speech. "I think I speak for everyone here when I say you'll be missed for the next fortnight. But we wish you all the best with the launch of your vaccination programme on the west coast." Cyrus began to clap, and the staff quickly followed suit.
"Why, thank you, Cyrus. Well, I need to go and pack, so if you'll excuse me," she said to the room at large. Fitz opened the door for her as she turned to go. "Thanks, honey," he said, "I just want to catch the end of this. I'll be over in 10."
"Sure, Hun," Mellie smiled brightly one last time and walked out.
"Please," Fitz said to Mark, "Carry on." He looked out at the staff assembled, trying to avoid looking directly at Olivia. He could see her wide eyes just staring at him in his peripheral vision.
Wait.
Was she crying?
Shit.
"Ok. Ok. So. Final order of business, and it's actually quite fortuitous that you were able be here for this. The interns," several pairs of eyes in the room sought out Olivia, curious about what they were about to see. Mark Continued, "were about to debrief on the best angles to take with the commerce team meeting us in China. Lauren," Mark handed over to her.
"Thanks, Mark. Based on available intel we believe that your best avenues to build rapport will be with He Lui and Yang Yi. Both are happily married, family men and both are avid golfers. However, they haven't been able to indulge much lately because of the ban imposed by the communist party on its members. So, we thought an invitation to the US and the offer of a few rounds on the links might well help to ease relations."
"Oh good," laughed Fitz, "another round of golf. Just what I needed."
A murmur of laughter went round the room.
"And who do we have to thank for this strategy?" Fitz asked. This was why he'd come here today.
Not her. Not her. Not her. Not her.
Not her.
A silent plea to the Gods.
"I think it was…" Lauren began, looking at her team for an answer.
"Me, Sir."
Thank you, God.
Fitz turned on the full force of his charm. "Thank you for your efforts -?"
"Quinn, Sir. Quinn Perkins." Quinn was practically vibrating with excitement. She was talking to the President! She was going to dine out on this for the rest of her life.
"Perkins. Any relation to David Perkins in State?" Fitz was talking to her like she was the only person in the room.
"He's my Dad," Quinn confirmed happily.
"Well, he must be very proud," Fitz said, sincerely. "That's good work, all of you," he managed to look at everyone apart from Olivia. "If you'll excuse me."
Involuntarily his eyes flicked back to Olivia, he could see the hurt in her face.
See she didn't understand.
He kept his resolve, looked through her and clenched his jaw before turning and walking out, followed by his detail.
Bang.
The doors clattered closed and with them, Olivia's heart.
A/N: So, Fitz is trying to be noble and do the right thing. I have a feeling he's not going to be able to last much longer. And with Mellie out in California for two weeks, he'll be all alone in the residence…
Thank you to everyone who took the time to review chapter one, the good, the bad and the ugly. All I can say to the readers with #Metoo concerns is that I hear you. And to the reader who suggested I look up JFK's 19 year old intern, I did and I found it absolutely fascinating, so thank you for pointing me in the direction of the story. I had no idea there used to be an indoor pool in the White House.
P.S. I know she's Melody. But I see her as more of a Millicent.
