Chapter Two
The weeks have flown by with campaigning, kissing babies and prayer meetings, there hasn't been any time to think, much less fraternize. That's what makes me thankful for times like that. Fitz has been so busy and tired that there have been no more incidences. And now, here we are, the night before the polls come in, enjoying our hard work. Governor Grant is up by ten points in New Hampshire and we all think that means we were finally out of the woods and can rest. The confetti is already flying in some rooms and many of the rookie campaigners are trying to strategize for the next state. Cyrus and I know that anything can happen within the next twenty-four hours and are standing with baited breath until the numbers come in. Nobody but the two of us are letting those small facts stand in the way of having a good time though.
"Thank you," Governor Grant smiles to the tipsy room. "It's all you guys." His little speech gives me a moment to collect my thoughts. I am positive the whole campaign crew knows what I have done. Nobody can possibly be that dense, can they? There is little doubt in my mind that everyone presently standing in the room listening to the charismatic man before us knows that I am a home-wrecking whore. The worst part is, I know I only have two options; stick this god awful campaign out and deal with all the lingering looks and whispered sneers, or raise more speculation and leave the campaign all together. Both options are risky and can ruin everything. Sadly though, I know I can't leave Cyrus to do the dirty work all himself.
The precious moment to gather my thoughts is interrupted by the hoots and hollers of all the dedicated campaign workers ,who are ready and willing to have a good time. However, before I can completely gather my thoughts and hide my emotions, someone is talking to me. I know who it is. The telltale shudder that goes through my body whenever he is near is confirmation enough to who it is. I plaster a smile on my face, trying to seem indifferent and neutral, looking at the Adonis before me and the pleased smile on his face clarifies that I failed.
Unlucky for me, I am never completely guarded around Fitzgerald Grant, a flaw that always irritates me. "And you Ms. Pope," his smile widens just slightly with the professional title and his grey eyes danced, "I don't know how you did it," he sighs contentedly, his eyes slowly roaming down my body.
Chuckling, a genuine smile appears on my face for a second, "Well Governor, if we are passing out thanks I do believe you and Mellie deserve most of it," I confide because truth be told, they really are a pair to behold now. "You two seem to be doing a great deal better," I add with a fake smile this time, the sarcasm light in my voice. As I speak about him and his wife, I notice the glimmer in his eyes extinguish. My brows furrow, even after all this, he can't just be happy and deal with what he had been dealt? He truly is an insufferable man at times.
But this time he is the one chuckling. Unlike mine, it isn't light hearted and silly; his is dry and cynical. When I think about it, it reminds me of Cyrus Beene, the only father figure I would ever respect and do anything for. "I think you truly underestimate me as a politician Ms. Pope," the governor whispers out.
As our eyes lock, I actually feel sorry him. He is trapped in a loveless marriage to an ice queen, eloquently nicknamed the "Iron Lady." Then I remember that they have been married for twenty years and surely their unhappiness hasn't occurred over night, and the pity for the governor of California is gone in an instant. He deserves to be in a loveless marriage, nobody should cheat on their spouse, under no circumstances! I break eye contact, not wanting him to see the anger in my own chocolate orbs. All that Fitzgerald Grant has to do was keep acting like he is in love with his wife and everything will be okay.
Breathing deeply, I just have to remember that in two hundred and seventy days I will never have to see Fitzgerald and Mellie Grant ever again if I can help it. I am about to bid him good-night and turn, when he senses what is going to happen and pulls me closer."Livvie," he whispers as I shake my head.
"Don't touch me," I whisper back fiercely, my chocolate eyes meeting molten stone, "You don't deserve to touch me." Looking around, there isn't anybody paying any attention to the two of us. "We are in public, control yourself Governor," I hiss between gritted teeth, "And don't forget your wife is three feet away," motioning with my head to his right.
"Meet me in the conference room in ten minutes," he begs, his expressive grey eyes pulling me in and looking so pitiful. I want to shake my head, but I can't, I am rooted to the spot. If I was a better person, more Jackie Kennedy than Marilyn Monroe, I wouldn't be counting down the seconds until I am able excuse myself for the evening and go to the governor. My heart rate wouldn't have increasing at the possibility of being caught in a few minutes nor would my breath have hitched in desire.
Calming myself down, I head toward the make-shift bar, ready to swallow down several glasses of scotch in quick succession to justify what I know is about to come. Cyrus cuts me off as my mocha fingertips touches the crystal decanter, "We're going to lose tomorrow," he whispers so quiet I think I have misunderstood him. My wide eyes become impossibly wider as I look up into Cyrus's beady blue eyes in horror. His meet mine with a tired, pleading expression shadowing his face.
"What-, how-," I stumble over my words, my mind reeling for a moment before it becomes crystal clear. I am back in fixer mode full force, as much as I want to go sex it up in the conference room with an incredibly attractive man, his campaign comes first, it always will. "Alright, who's leaking it? Which paper has the exclusive? Have they leaked it to any news stations yet," I fire quickly at Cyrus, my eyes holding a determined glint in them that Cyrus's cynical presence is lacking. "Cyrus," I huff at him, my brows furrowing. If Cyrus is silent that meant there was nothing left to do and that it will be more difficult for me to accept than him. "Where are we going to start, if we need to stop this by morning we have," looking at my watch I estimate we have less than five hours to twist this to our advantage. "About five hours," I state matter-of-factly.
Shaking his head, Cyrus looks more defeated than before. I know this is going to be hard for him, "Save it Cy," I raise my hand. "You get Mellie, I'll get the governor," sighing, I grab the decanter of scotch before leaving and flipping the top off, taking a long gulp of the burning, amber liquid.
Nearing the conference room, I sit the decanter down on one of the tables before entering said room I was supposed to be in nearly five minutes ago. Opening the door, the room was dark except for the moon's silver haze penetrating the disserted room. Fitz's piercing gaze meets my defeated one. He has been pacing, and his hands are running through his hair causing it to stick out at peculiar slants and angles. "Livvie," Fitz sighs happily, pulling me to his chiseled chest. "I was worried you wouldn't come," he breathes into my hair. I fight the urge to wrap my arms around him and allow him to envelope me, taking away all my grief, stress and sadness for a brief time.
"Governor," I fight out of his intoxicating grasp, "There's a problem," the words fall out of my mouth before I can try to rephrase them. My tone alerts him to the severity of the problem. His grey eyes burn with curiosity and worry. His brows furrow and he brings his dexterous fingertips to his mouth, tapping them against his full lips waiting for me to continue. I can only assume he is thinking the worse, and his actions are almost calming to my frazzled emotions.
It shows he really does care about his campaign.
I close my eyes to focus again because I can't control my wandering thoughts. They are all over the place, and I know I should never guzzle scotch again. "Governor," I state again, my eyes hardening as they meet his intense stare, "Your wife is having an affair," the words come tumbling out of my mouth again. I can't stop them and I don't even register what I have just said until I see the surprise on his face. The emotions seem wrong. When you tell someone their spouse is having an affair, surprise usually isn't one normally define.
"Did you hear me," the question falls from my plump lips. I have no mental filter now, and I know I won't be of much help anymore tonight. Despite that knowledge, my brows furrow. My guy is telling me something is wrong and my gut is never wrong. The memories of when my mother found out about my father's side-dishes as we have so eloquently called the numerous blonds that walked in and out of my childhood as my father's "friends."
Still there has been no response from the governor; I am beginning to get worried. Turning on the light, I close the door and walk over to the instant coffee, warming up two packets. The timer running out on the microwave seemed to jog the governor out of his astonishment.
"Here," I place the mug of brown sludge into his calloused hand. "I'm sorry-," he cuts me off before I can continue further by laughing. Not the polite chuckle reserved for campaign functions but a gut wrenching, stomach hurting bellow. My face resonates shock. Governor Grant doesn't seem to care; he is physically incapable of holding in the laughter.
"Governor," my voice stern, "I understand this is a shock, but I highly doubt it's a time to be laughing," I shake my head. Does he really care so little for his wife that he's joyous at the opportunity to be rid of her, the question pops into my mind. However, looking back at the governor, he looks like a little boy trying not to laugh as his teacher scolds him.
His face is turning a putrid reddish, purplish color from keeping in the chuckles and the vein in his forehead looks as if it was ready to pop out of his cranium. There are little crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, and he is biting his lips to the point where he looks vaguely like that children's show character about the sponge that lived under the rock or something that I'd been forced to watch when my cousin's children were in town. The memory makes me stifle a chortle as well. And Governor Grant notices too, finally calming down to take a sip of the coffee in his mug before sputtering it back into the cup due to the horrendous taste.
"Is this really the shit that keeps you and Cy going all hours of the night," he questions, raising a well groomed eyebrow at me. Shrugging, I nod, giving him a pointed look to Governor Grant back onto the subject at hand.
"You realize I just told you that your wife might be having an affair," sighing, looking down at the piss poor coffee in my own mug before going to sit at the table as my gaze meets his. Nodding his head yes, he follows my lead and sits across from me, pushing his coffee to the side.
Nodding again, the governor goes to take a sip of the coffee before realizing the awful taste is still in his mouth and thinks better of it. "You don't understand the situation Livvie," he smirks slightly at me not correcting the use of my nickname. "My marriage is," Governor trails off, mulling over his next words, "Is unconventional to say the least," are the words he ends up choosing. Now though, I can sense the disgust in his voice. Sadly though, I don't know if it is due to our current predicament or his unconventional marriage as he puts it.
My brows furrow deeper as I consider his words. Registering what he means, my sympathy evaporates and is replaced with disgust, "You mean to tell me that your unconventional marriage," I spit the words in utter contempt, "Allowed you to be unfaithful to each other," the question sounds absurd to even my own ears. "Were-are, are you two swingers," I throw at him again awaiting his response. He can't really think that just because his marriage is unconventional that it won't matter to the American people.
"Nevermind," I raise my hand, "don't tell me, tell Cyrus," sighing I head towards the door. Turning when I get to the knob, I notice he is still sitting in his chair, staring across the table at my empty seat. "Governor, we need to go find Cyrus," I grit through my teeth as my jaw flexes with frustration towards this man. "Governor," this time I say with force behind the word. "We need to go."
Governor Grant stands, his knees cracking as he does so, turning his face is shrouded in anger. I am turning the knob when his hand pulls me away from the door. "No Olivia," he gnashes out, "I want you to know, so sit your ass," he motions to the chair he just vacated, "and listen to what I have to say then judge me," he growls out. Several seconds pass and I refuse to move, my mouth opens and closes much like a goldfish, while I try to formulate a response for us to leave and find Mellie and Cyrus. So Governor Grant takes this as an opportunity to shove me into his vacated chair and stands before me.
"Governor, really, there's no need to explain. It's a private matter between Mellie and yourself," I sputter, trying to make him stop. I don't want to hear about their sordid sexual relationship. The mere thought of Governor Grant having sex with someone other than me makes my stomach twist and my throat constrict. I look into his eyes pleading with him, but he isn't looking at me.
Instead, he is gazing at the coffee mug he had placed down earlier. Continuing to look at the red coffee cup that read 'Vote Grant,' as he starts speaking despite my request. "Mellie and I have known each other since we were ten years old, our parents both vacationed at Martha's Vineyard," he explains. I nod my head, looking down into my own coffee cup. "There had never been any romantic relationship between us even in our teen years when I'd fuck anything with a pulse," chuckling he shakes his head.
"Nothing's changed since then," I whisper under my breath, hoping the governor won't hear. He is too close though and I know he will. Subconsciously, I know I said that to get a rise out of him and to tell me that he's never cheated on his wife before me, or I am the only one he would ever do that with, that I am special or something like that, but the Governor doesn't say anything of that nature. Instead, I feel his fiery gaze burning holes into my head. I can tell I've infuriated him, but I don't realize how badly until he speaks. When he does, it is so much worse.
"God dammit, Olivia," he roar. I feel his breath on my forehead and it makes me want to look up to see his anger, but I don't. "Just listen, okay, no snide comments or eye rolls, you don't know jackshit and you can't act like you do," he huffs at me. "Mellie and I, we've been friends for over thirty years. She was and will always be here for me no matter what." I've known that from the start, these two people will do anything for each other; it is in the looks they give one another.
"We went to the same prep school, then college and we have always known each other. There was never any, any," he emphasizes, "romantic feelings for the other, we had dated off and on throughout the years and our parents always pushed us together," he explains, much calmer now that I have kept my mouth shut. "So naturally in law school we got much closer, she would make me study," he clarifies. I raise my brow, but hold my tongue. He in turn held his anger in check. "Then after law school, we were still doing well and I decided to get married to my friend," Governor Grant smiles wistfully for I assume he remembers the night he proposed. "She said yes and, and," his eyes prickle with tears, "we were married on April 15th, it was a great day," I hold my hand up for him to stop. I don't want to hear how anymore about his tainted marriage.
"Please," I beg, I don't know how much more I can take before I lose the small amount of food I've had the time to eat today. Shaking his head, the governor continues. "Governor," I sigh before resigning to have to hear everything he has to say about his marriage.
"Our vows weren't the traditional ones, we weren't in love, it was just what people who dated throughout their lives were supposed to do. It was what my parents had done and my parents, parents so what made me any different," the question is rhetorical but I have the urge to respond in case that makes him stop, but he doesn't give me the chance to interrupt him. "We vowed to support, protect and be the best of friends. It wasn't traditional, romantic or what any little girl would expect on their wedding day, but it fit us," he says with a head nod as if his explanation was making perfect sense.
He is looking into my eyes as he continues, "She started her career and I started mine. First by running for mayor, governor and now president, it was the natural progression of our lives that our parents had always hoped for us. We were their pride and joy, then Mellie stopped working to raise the kids and everything was good for a long time until," he trails off, breaking our eye-contact and scuffing his shoe on the ground as he begins worrying his bottom lip, "Mellie met someone on a business trip when I was campaigning. I'd had several discreet flings over the years so I was in no position to tell her to end it," he sighs, shaking his head. "I would've been a hypocrite and that someone was the love of her life, I couldn't, no I wouldn't make her give him up."
I am speechless, this man has always been in a loveless marriage. It makes me want to slap him for his stupidity. If someone asked him to roll down a hill wrapped in barbed wire just because his forefathers had before him had done it, would he be stupid enough to do it? The whole situation is more than I can handle at the moment.
"That's ridiculous. You don't marry your best friend because you're pressured into it," seething, I stand up and get in his face, "You can't go around having others dictate your life. You should have grown a backbone or at least gotten out before now," I yell, jabbing my finger at him. "Neither of you deserve that, to be forever bonded to someone you don't love, marriage is supposed to be sacred, not the next step in your pathetic little life," I preach. "And your poor children, what kind of morals have you taught them," the question is cut short before I can continue.
"Don't you ever say I'm a bad father," Governor Grant spits, his features distorting with rage. "My kids come before anything in this world and I'd do anything to protect them from the fate I've conceded myself to live," he says, his eyes flashing and voice eerily calm. His tone tells me not to push the subject further but I can't help it.
Moving away from the raging governor, I raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow and smile sweetly, "So please tell me, how do you fake having a perfect marriage for your children's sake when you can't even do it effectively during your campaign?"
He doesn't respond for several minutes. The features that were previously distorted in anger seem to be confused. "My wife and I will do anything for our children," he says eerily calm again, "We tolerate each other in their presence because we love and care about them," is his simple response.
"You better try fucking harder," is all I say as I move closer to the door, "Not just for your children's sack either. If you want to win this presidency as bad as Cyrus made it seem when I signed on, try harder or I'm done. Try harder, be more believable or this is going to be a disastrous end to your campaign," I warn, "We can't afford you to relax, there have been allegations made about your wife and we need to spin this to make it look like it isn't true. So for the love of god, try a little fucking harder. I don't care if it's for you or your kids, just do it," I lock eyes with him , letting the governor know this isn't a suggestion but an order, "because I don't lose anything and remember that," I nod my head before gesturing him to walk out the door to find Mellie and our sausage factory maker.
A/N: Well here's another pointless author's note.. I really don't know why I'm still writing these things! So anyway, as always, several things to say: A) Thank you everybody for reviewing. You have no idea how much it means to me that I've had such great response to the few chapters of the story. B) As always, I thank the two lovely ladies who help me out with this story, babycakesbriauna and amaryillis214! It wouldn't be nearly as good without you two helping me fix errors and such. C) We have moved onto chapter two.. fuck yes! Excuse my language, I swear a lot. D) I'm making this story my own, so some events may seem out of order, but that's how I intended it to be and that's how it will remain! E) I'd love to hear from everybody out there. They make me smile really brightly! F) I'm sorry I don't update regularly, but with two others prof-reading the story and my own life being busy, updates will continue to be irregular. G) Last one; sorry for no Livvie/Fitz smexy goodness. I'm thinking I owe you guys and their might just be a very descriptive sex scene in the next chapter.. Let me know what you think about that though!
