Our first flashback, yay!
The jazz band had begun to play her favorite song, and she couldn't help but dance along with. Cyrus was a few feet away, at the bar nonetheless; she dragged him onto the dance floor before he could protest, or finish his glass of scotch.
"Olivia! What on earth are you doing?"
"You're here, he is not. So, I'm dancing with you." I whispered back.
He nodded and went along with it, understanding my pain.
"Cy," I asked, smiling, "do you remember the day you found out about Fitz and I?" I murmured, even lower than before.
He threw his head back laughing, "I wish I didn't. Very vivid, too vivid. When things are going great in the Oval, that is what I have nightmares about."
Even that made me chuckle.
One year earlier – On the campaign trail
"Karen, get me the numbers on all the swing states. I want to know where they stand, and how much we have to campaign in those states, in thirty minutes!" Olivia barked.
"We have a debate in two days people, now is not the time to slack off!" She continued to bark orders. "I need a make-up artist in Governor Grant's office in one hour for the upcoming photo op. Someone call her, now!"
She hated yelling at her workers, especially when they were so loyal and obedient. But how can the work be done to her standards if they aren't pushed? Lazy and slow campaign workers are not going to win anyone the Presidential election. No one ever admits this, but the campaign workers are the back bone of political campaigns. Besides the candidate's select few workers, the campaign workers are the most hardworkers on the campaign. They are the ones who manage the social media, post signs, make banners, make food and coffee runs, stay at the office three hours after everyone else has gone home, research data, call the voters, set up voting registration, make appointments, etc. Without them, there would be campaign whatsoever. Yelling at them made her feel awful, as if she was just some politician who had no care at all about the people below.
And, that wasn't true at all. I wear a White Hat, she thought.
Olivia was in her office, reviewing Fitz's past debates as governor, and also reviewing his practice debates. The first debate out of the few, started in two days. While Fitz was a good politican, his opponent, Governor Reston, was a career politician. While Reston had never been on this particular platform before, his name was well-known and well-liked in DC. Reston was going to be prepared, maybe even over prepared, for this debate. And Olivia was going to make sure, Fitz was over prepared as well. Every hesitant answer, she wanted to fix. If Fitz hesitated, for even a second, it would be scrutinized by the media and the voters.
A knock at the door, "Ms. Pope, I have the data on the swing states for you."
"Place them on my desk please." Olivia responded to Karen. "Thank you, Karen. Good work, and under my time limit." She nodded back to Olivia and returned to her desk.
She had her highlighter out and was highlighting every small detail she could. The counties, number of people in each county, number of Democrats in each county, number of Republicans in each county, number of Republican wins in each county in years past. Olivia was always well prepared.
"Hey, Fitz. I wanted you to only focus on the debate for right now, but I just got the numbers on the swing states were going to campaign at next, and I wanted to go over a few things, throw out some campaign ideas." Olivia said, as she knocked on his office door.
"America is the best country in the world. That is both fact and opinion. We are the free world, how can anything top that? I will admit, there are numerous things that need to be changed in order to remain being the best country in the world. We are one trillion dollars in debt, which outrages me, our spending costs have multiplied in the last presidnetal term, the health care system is pitiful." Fitz said, reading from his notepad. "How was that?"
"Good, I like it. Change the ending, and end on a 'America is great' platform. Good opening statement. Now back to the swing states." Olivia said, pointing to her highlighted data.
"Florida has primarily voted Republican in the last two national elections, and local elections. However, with the number of young citizens moving there, that number could drastically change. We need a way to get the youth involved in politics and to understand your views." Olivia continued on with her data.
"We'll hold a music festival with regionally and locally famous artists. Add one headliner to the show to attract the young voters. While there, voting registrations booths will be set up. We'll send down one or two speech writers to speak in the middle of the show. Maybe even give away a few free t-shirts and autographed pictures." Fitz suggested to Olivia.
"I love it; it's a simple idea, but with a large impact. I'll go tell Cyrus to start calling about permits and artists." Olivia told Fitz as she stood up from her seat.
"Hey, don't leave just yet." He responded. Fitz closed the blinds before he made his way towards her. "I haven't seen you all day. I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, Fitz. But someone has to run your campaign, baby."
"You don't have to, not right now. Come here."
He extended his hand out to her, and she fell into his lap. Immediately running her hands through his luscious brown curly hair. As his hands slid further down her waist, the kiss became more passionate. While still deep into the kiss, one hand started to unbutton her satin blouse. Just as she made her way to his belt buckle,
"Fitz, have you seen Olivia? I need- Oh my gosh!"
"Tell her yourself, she's right here."
"Oh, um, um, Oh." He stammered, speechless, and the shut the door as he ran out.
"Fitz, honey, I think we just gave him a heart attack. He didn't know about us!" I yelled, buttoning my shirt back up.
I made my way off of Fitz's lap to talk to Cyrus, when he stopped me.
"Don't leave me just yet." He stated, planting another kiss on my lips, than neck.
"I really don't want to, but we just scared our friend half to death. Someone needs to go talk to him." I walked away, towards the door.
"Don't," He said, "it should be me. I'm the person he's known longer. And I'm also the one having the affair. Let me go."
And so, I kissed him on the cheek and let him go.
"I love you, Liv. It's about damn time someone knew about it."
I smiled, blushing, as he walked away.