"What do you see in him?"
"Abby."
"No, I mean it! Liv, what are you smoking that you'd want to actual travel with this man?"
"Abby."
"Fine! I want to hear it from your lips."
Two minutes after Olivia grouped the team into the conference room and explained the what's and why's, Abby began to dissent. The others stood quietly with amused expressions.
"As I was saying, he asked. I thought it over. My expertise is needed in this delicate situation. He's our client and that's final, regardless of his work position. It's not easy, but he's got something I can work with."
Abby rose from her seat, side eyeing Olivia. "Okay, Savior of Washington, DC. Work your magic and do whatever you want. We will be fine."
Harrison was too busy stifling a laugh and Stephen could only roll his eyes. The tirade was understandable, but all the way over-the-top. When Abby realized how upset she was, she stammered, "I'm not mad. I just don't get it… He's a Republican, Liv. He represents everything you hate."
As she sat down on the table, Olivia confirmed, "I for one, am apolitical when it comes to representing clients. My views do not matter, usually. I know you feel differently. But that's why I'm involved personally. So you won't have to feel conflicted."
The groans and eyerolls gave away Abby's disagreement. Being a staunch Democrat, she did not tolerate any type of bullshit that was related to the opposing party. To know that Olivia was less vocal, irritated her to the core.
"Whatever you say, Olivia."
"This will be great for you," Stephen encouraged, in his crisp British accent. "Don't worry about us. We've been at this game for four years. It's only a week and some change. Think of it as a vacation."
Olivia shot a daring eye towards him. "Yeah, I'm the petite nanny on vacation, watching the most spoiled human being on the planet."
With a hearty chuckle, Stephen put his hands on Olivia's shoulders. "Now, now. Do not get into the mindset. That's not who you are. You're a gladiator. The fiercest woman I know. I guarantee that you'll enjoy it. When was the last time you went to Italy? Do what you're assigned to do, but also have fun. You deserve a break."
"Alright."
The drive to the White House felt longer than usual. Olivia grabbed her credentials, showing it to the friendly guard, Morris.
"Have a great day, Miss Pope."
"You too!"
When she walked through the side door, she was greeted by Lauren.
"Miss Pope."
"Yes?"
"Right this way," Lauren spoke. Olivia was ushered down the hall, into an office. It was bare, on the smaller side, but quite cozy.
"This will be your office for the next few days. Here is your extension. 213 is Mr. Beene's desk. Press that one for the President."
Olivia brows lowered. "I don't understand."
"In preparation for the European tour, the President wanted to ensure that you had access to him and Mr. Beene."
"Okay…"
The door was closed, leaving Olivia to explore the space. Only in her imagination, had she thought about sitting in the West Wing, being a powerful player. Her daydream interrupted by the phone ringing. Maybe it was a wrong number, but Olivia answered nonetheless.
"This is Olivia Pope."
"Hi, Olivia Pope."
Slowly, the corners of her mouth lifted. She knew that voice. The voice that haunted her dreams.
"Hi."
"Like your new office?"
Scanning the room, Olivia replied softly, "I don't get why you had to push someone out for me to have some temporary space."
"I thought you'd like it."
"I don't need special favors, Mr. President."
"I'm treating you like any Senior official in my cabinet. You are vital to my success right now and I want you to have a place to call your own for a while. If that's okay."
Olivia didn't want to accept his generosity, but there was no point in arguing. "Yes."
"Good."
This man was ensuring that he stayed on her good side.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said. "When you get a chance, can you come to my office? Cyrus wants to go over a few appointments on the tour."
She didn't hesitate: "I'll be there soon."
"Great. See you then."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Bye."
"Bye," his smooth baritone echoed.
As she hung up, Olivia released a sigh, but only to rush out, giving herself the business for sounding like a fangirl.
"Get your shit together," she reprimanded.
Ten minutes later, Olivia was sitting in the Oval, with President Grant and Cyrus, reviewing notes. When Cyrus was satisfied, he departed. Leaving Olivia and the President alone. The last thing she wanted, but the only thing she needed to happen.
"May I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
Olivia crossed her leg, ready to spill. "Why isn't the First Lady traveling with you?"
The President's eyes flitted, seemingly nervous to reveal. "Mellie chose to cancel."
"Which means?"
"She's very hurt. She knows things are winding down and she's the process of making plans. It's probably for the best that we not make things worse."
Olivia understood the logic. "I see."
"Anything you'd like to ask?"
The invitation was appealing; maybe a reach into more pressing issues would suffice. It was typical to ask of very personal matters. That was Olivia's job. But there was a reason to know.
"Do you two sleep in the same room?"
President Grant lifted his head, chuckling. "Tough-hitting question, Olivia. Sometimes. I don't mind going over to the guest room. Oh, for your information, nothing happens."
"Excuse me?"
Olivia was shocked by his candor; maybe he knew why she was asking.
"We haven't been intimate in a while."
"What does 'a while' mean?"
The President whispered, "A few months."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Didn't you tell me not to lie? That's the crux of any assignment, right," President Grant explained. "I'll be honest. Things aren't great in the East Wing. If you want to spin it as much that we grew apart, there is proof. We don't have sex. That's what you observed by just looking at me and hearing me."
A few talking points were written in her notebook - for future reference.
"Olivia?"
"Yes?"
"Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to think that I'm forcing you to join us."
She couldn't let her professionalism fall apart in a moment. "I'm here to represent you and make sure that what we decided to do, happens. If that means I have to be in the same room, prompting you the neatest of answers, so be it."
President Grant cracked a smile. "Okay."
Then, his eyes narrowed, giving her the exact intense look that occurred weeks earlier. Breath-taking.
"I have to go."
"Do you have anyone you need to contact before you leave? We head out tomorrow."
"No."
Olivia's sharp answer made the President flinch with surprise.
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
She rushed out again. If there was going to be any kind of success on this European crusade, Olivia was going to have to subdue her emotions, including the budding attraction to her client. That was the cardinal sin - becoming attached, emotionally.
Embarking on a trip anywhere was a production for Fitzgerald Grant and his staff. But when the destination is overseas, more was required. Olivia was given a detailed list of what to pack, while Cyrus stood nearby, going over the logistics.
"Why aren't you coming?"
Cyrus sighed, "I have to run this lovely establishment. We can't have too many powerful individuals absent for more than a day."
Olivia didn't believe a word. "Cyrus," she groaned.
"Don't," he waved his finger. "I don't travel overseas. That's why I recommended for you to go."
"Are you kidding me?"
Cyrus raised his eyebrows, staring Olivia down. "What? You don't want to go? Fine, I'll see if I find someone who has clearance."
A deep breath released. "I'll go. I didn't think you weren't going."
"Liv. This will be fine. You are well prepared. You're there as a go-between with the President and the press."
Why they had so much trust in her, Olivia was curious. She had never worked with anyone higher than a CEO or a Senator. To be given this level of responsibility.
"Please, feel free to tour the cities. Here is a card that you can use. About seventy-five. An extra phone, so you won't have to use any of your minutes."
Olivia smirked, "Seventy-five. What do you do with that? Get a coke?"
"Oh my Lord, Liv," Cyrus shook his head. "Seventy-five hundred."
The gasp she expelled, sounded more like an animal than a human. "Hell no."
"You're taking it and that's final. It's an over and beyond gift. Most of it came from me anyway. I allotted the money just for this. Have fun."
She took a moment to peruse the additional items on the checklist.
"Liv, if you need anything. Anything. You call me."
"You got it."
"I'll see you when you get back."
Olivia sent a text to Harrison and Abby, informing that she would leave soon, and to text her if anything needed approval. Thirty minutes later, she climbed aboard. The seat she was offered, was comfortable, with plenty of room.
All stood as the President entered.
"Good morning, everyone."
Olivia watched him greet the crew, and other staff members. He could really work a crowd.
"Good morning, Olivia."
"Good morning."
"Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
Of course, he would sit straight across from her. The universe was getting back at her for numerous under-the-table deals with her various clients and the folks who tried to ruin them. As the plane lifted off, Olivia couldn't possibly fix her gaze on him. That would give her facade away. He would know the extent of his hold on her. Gradually seeming into her psyche. Hoping to receive a smile, a thank you, or just a look that would carry her through any shitty problem.
When the passengers received the go-ahead to move around, Olivia shot up, finding the journalists. Ten in all, who could become Olivia's best friends, when this divorce news would break. She needed to see which individual would be the trusted confidant on speed dial. This trip would be the opportunity to determine who was worthy of the details, and in turn, present it correctly.
"Are you Olivia Pope?"
"Yes. How are you doing today?"
The group answered in kind. One in particular, Jake Ballard, from the New York Times, got her attention. Known as cocky S.O.B, inquired. "Are you working on President Grant's image?"
"I'm part of a team that is pushing a better narrative for him and the First Lady. Cyrus asked me to keep an eye on things since he won't be able to attend."
Olivia kept to herself the whole flight, catching up on a fluffy novel, that didn't require her to strategize.
"Liv?"
"Hmm?" Her head popped up, to face the voice that called upon her.
"Sorry. Is that alright if I call you that?"
Olivia took a breath, waving her hand. "Sure. I responded, so it should be fine."
"There's the spunk I've been waiting for all morning," the President joked, pulling a quick smile out of Olivia.
"What do you want to do as soon as we touch down. There will be press and I want to be ready."
Olivia earmarked the page, returning her attention to President Grant. "Okay, if anyone asks, you steer the conversation into your agenda. Reminding them of why you're in Italy in the first place. It's pretty simple. I can come up with a few prompts, if you'd like."
"Perfect. Thanks, Olivia."
"One more thing."
The President's eyebrows lifted. "Yeah?"
"You'll need to switch ties before we land," Olivia pointed. "That one's not going to work."
She almost laughed as the President examined the fabric; it was a red striped selection. "What's wrong with it?"
"It's okay, but there could be a better option."
"Well, come on."
Not thinking he would actually take her advice, Olivia followed President Grant into his room, a spacious cabin. There were three suits in the closet, along with five dress shirts, and eight ties. After receiving permission, Olivia rummaged through the colors, selecting a royal blue.
"Here."
"This is what I get for not having Mellie pick out my clothes." The President stated, as he loosened the tie. "She has fashion sense, I do not."
"Let me," Olivia offered.
She made quick work, swooping the tie around with precision.
"You must want me to look my best."
"Optics," she reminded, fully smitten by his blue eyes and lowly-pitched voice.
Their eyes were trained on each other for a while longer than usual. Once again, a normal moment that was growing into something more.
"Thank you." President Grant rubbed Olivia's arms. "Thanks for looking out for me."
Air Force One touched down at 6PM. The crowd was waiting as President Fitzgerald Grant stepped down the stairs, waving to them, giving a friendly hello to an Italian representative. With his guards flanking him, the President gave a brief statement. "Thank you for welcoming me. We are honored to be in this historic place. I am looking forward to meet with our friends, and discuss policies, as we continue the bond between Italy and the United States. Thanks."
Olivia was off to the side, with huge Chanel glasses covering half of her face. She was ready to change into her pajamas and open an authentic bottle of Red. But there was plenty to be done before she could shut her eyes.
The restaurant was empty, save for the whole Presidential posse.
"Salut!"
The servers came with bowls of pasta, meats, and wine. A perfect combination for a long traveling day. Olivia picked at her meal. The food was delicious; flavorful, bursting with spices. Her primitive years were spent overseas, where she could open her palette, and experience so much. That wasn't the problem. Feeling extremely nervous, by what others would think. If she broke out of her gladiator mode. If he would see past this layer that she wanted to keep covered.
Olivia listened in on the conversations. Lots of laughter, old stories, and wine flowed. Their voices drowned out as her mind wandered.
"Is everyone alright?"
She locked eyes with the President. His were full of concern. That was something she hadn't received in a while.
"How about you?"
After a quick nod and "I'm fine", Olivia took a sip, avoiding his gaze.
"Thank you, everyone. We will meet at 8am." President Grant rose and the table clapped for him. As he talked to one of the Cabinet members, Olivia slipped out. The elevator was taking too damn long.
"Hey. Are you going up?"
Olivia closed her eyes. "Yes."
The elevator opened. Two Secret Service members walked in, then Olivia, then the President, with an additional two men. She remained quiet as they ascended. It was rare to not have to move, think, or work on a brief. Olivia closed her eyes, leaning against the wall.
"I'm glad you're here."
"What?"
Olivia felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Hey. Are you alright?"
"I'm exhausted, it's been a few years since I've traveled abroad," Olivia explained, covering her face. "Sorry for my outburst. My body needs to adjust."
"Okay," the President softly replied.
The wait to arrive at their floor was unbearable. Cabinet members were all on the same floor; Olivia's room was two doors from the elevator. President Grant walked with her.
"If you need anything, my room is down the hall. You don't have to meet us at 8. You can come whenever you like."
Olivia felt like a wuss, complaining, when everyone else was just as tired. "Mr. President, that would be unfair. I can't be a diva. I'll see you then."
Watching him rock on his heels, she wondered if he was nervous. "Do you have your phone so you can reach your team or family?"
Olivia gave a nod of confirmation; "Good night, Mr. President."
"Have a good night."
His glance was intense. As she turned back to open her room's door, Olivia recapped all the interactions between them.
If only she could keep her distance, but still be effective.
As the days passed, Olivia and President Grant had more time to get to know each other. In between meetings and photo ops, the two would find themselves sitting in the conference room or a pavilion that was closed off to the public, just shooting the breeze.
"What's your favorite food?"
"Popcorn."
"What," he asked with an incredulous look. "That's not a food group."
Olivia scoffed, "You're doubting me?"
"Mmhmm," President Grant playfully hummed.
"Yours?"
"Steak, fettuccine, hearty meals. Well balanced and sustaining."
He was teasing her, which she thought was cute. The way his nose would crinkle right before he laughed, or motioned for her to continue.
Interrupting him, she asked, "When's your birthday?"
"December 11th."
"A Sagittarius."
The two laughed.
"Okay, here's a good one," President Grant offered, leaning in. "Favorite date you've been on."
Olivia cocked her head, giving her boss a skeptical glance. "I don't date."
"Oh?"
"I'm not normal."
"Clearly."
"What about you?"
President Grant crossed his arms. "I love the outdoors. Bowling is fun. A cooking class never hurts. Taking a drive to the country. I heard the northeast is delightful in the fall."
An agent entered.
"Sir, sorry to interrupt. Mrs. Grant is on the line."
Olivia watched the President's cheery disposition fade. He stood and walked into the hotel. It brought a reality check; what in the world was she thinking? Playful conversations were only that.
He returned fifteen minutes later.
"Sorry. I had to take that."
Shrugging off the apology that didn't need to be uttered, Olivia asked, "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. She wanted to update me on this purchase we made in Santa Monica. An addition on the house. We haven't visited in over two years, it's time."
"Oh," Olivia answered. The upbeat news made her stomach churn. Hearing his positive words about the First Lady during an interview plus this didn't sound right. But she wasn't attached to him at all. She had to compose herself. "Does that mean all is well in the Grant household?"
President Grant reached for his cup of water. After taking a slow chug, he grinned. "You thought about what I told the one reporter from earlier, didn't you?"
Olivia looked down, embarrassed.
"You underestimate how good of a politician I am. Liv, I also want to tell you. We're officially separated."
The flurry of voices, raises hands, and shuttering cameras nearly deafened Olivia's ears. They landed in Paris ten hours earlier. With his arrival, Fitzgerald T. Grant was on heartthrob status. A large crowd followed every appearance. Including women, who just wanted to be in his presence. He looked like perfection: tall, a bright smile, a wonderful personality. Plus, his gift of speech could persuade anyone to join his cause.
Olivia went ahead to prepare for the afternoon press conference. Cyrus gave her exact instructions and she had to follow them. When the President arrived, she opted to stand in the audience, instead of backstage. Only wearing black - nothing fancy - so she could blend in. She still needed to observe how he would respond to the topic of his marriage, while separating her personal feelings about the situation.
Seven extensive questions were asked about the President's trip, but he allowed a few off-topic inquiries.
"President Grant!"
A man stood with a microphone; "With all the commotion about your personal life, how do you manage to still run a country and stick to the important topics you ran on?"
The President looked down, then smiled. "First of all, thank you for your question. It's not easy. But I have to surround myself with people who believe in my causes, knowing that hope and determination will still survive. Difficulties are always going to be in the equation. There have always been ups and downs. But through every experience, you realize who is in your corner. And you feel love in the unexpected places."
"Love?"
"Yes. It's true. During all of this, I am sure of one thing. I'm a man in love with an incredible woman."
Olivia thought the sentiment was wonderful, capturing the hearts of viewers and readers. That's what he needed to nullify the rumors for now. But there was a problem. The President of the United States was looking right at her. She didn't tell him where she would be. He found her among the people. Whatever common sense that should have been present, flew out the window. Jaw dropped, in a state of confusion. Olivia was stuck. Again. But she broke out of her trance, applauding with the others on a smooth answer.
When the press conference concluded, the President found Olivia checking her phone.
"How did I do?"
Olivia politely said, "Fine."
"Just fine?"
"Yes," Olivia shrugged, looking straight ahead. "I just approved of your answers. No-nonsense. Candid. This will be good for your image."
The President began to walk with Olivia down the hall, moving to the next event. "I'm learning from the best. And to be clear, I meant every word."
"That's good. Keep it up."
She didn't want him to see how she really felt about what he said. It was a game-changer.
Paris was a favorite destination of Olivia's. The visuals, the history, and the romance. It reminded her of the times she had vacationed with her parents. They would meet her in Europe and to her delight, they'd stay in Paris for three weeks. Olivia learned so much about herself. It was one of the best moments of her life, when everything was simple.
It was a quiet day; Olivia didn't bother going out. She needed to rest and touch base with the team. A few Skype calls and emails filled her agenda book. Already thinking ahead to what she needed to accomplish when she'd return to Washington. There was a knock. She hadn't called for room service, but maybe they were used to her frequent wine calls, so she stood to answer. Swinging the door wide, her eyes opened wide.
"Hi."
"Hi."
President Grant was at her door, gracing a sweet smile and mischievous eyes. "May I come in?"
Olivia replied, "I suppose."
"I won't be long," he told his agents. "Thanks, guys."
"How was your day?"
"It was alright," Olivia replied, a little uneasy by her appearance of an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. While the President was in a dress shirt and slacks.
"Shopping?"
"No. I had work to do and I wanted to stay off my feet."
"Cool," he answered, taking a seat.
"How about you? I don't remember anything major being on your itinerary."
"I took a gander around," President Grant said, "It was nice to visit downtown. Have you been here before?"
Olivia smiled, reminiscing again. "Yes, a few times. So...what's going on? Did you need something?"
"Liv-"
"Hmm?"
President Grant took a box out of his pocket. "I wanted to give you this."
"What is it?"
"Just open it."
Olivia shifted her eyes disapprovingly, before delicately pulling the ribbon so that she could pop the box open.
"A ring?"
"Mmhmm."
"Mr. President..."
A note slipped out. She skimmed over the semi-legible handwriting.
Thank you for everything you do. I don't know what I'd be up to if you weren't saving me from every predicament I get myself into. Please take this as a sign of my eternal gratitude. -Fitz
Olivia cleared her throat, pushing aside any emotions that was rising within her. The mist in her eyes didn't help her stubbornness.
"You don't have to wear it. But if you do, that would mean a lot."
"What kind is it?"
"I don't know. I saw it at an antique shop in town and it spoke to me. The size looked about right."
Olivia realized he noticed her fingers. What else could he be taking in consideration?
"It's called Doux Bébé."
"Sweet baby?"
"Ahh, you know," he commented, nodding.
"I took a few years in French," she mumbled, trying to downplay her extensive knowledge of languages. Olivia finally put the ring on her index finger. It was simple, with miniature stones as decorations. It looked so beautiful and to know that he bought it for her.
"Olivia?"
"Yes?"
"Would you like to get dinner?"
"What?"
President Grant chuckled at Olivia's surprise. "I haven't eaten and I was wondering if you'd like to join me."
"Who else will be there?"
"My agents."
"And?"
"That's all."
Olivia didn't have to think too long to give her answer.
"No."
President Grant asked, "Why not?"
"I don't think it'd be wise to be seen with you in public. By myself. Especially with everything that's going on. You haven't even announced your separation yet." The response was logical. Her mission was to smooth things over, not stir the proverbial waters. It would be more of a mess to clean.
"Will you consider it if we just eat here or the pavilion? It doesn't have to be fancy. I can make a few calls," President Grant suggested. "But I understand if you don't want to. Maybe some other time."
"The pavilion works," she answered. It wasn't smart, this could probably backfire, but she deserved to relax and have fun, like Stephen and Cyrus heavily suggested. Seeing his eyes brightened was the confirmation.
"Give me some time to change. I won't take long."
The President rose, moving towards the door. "Great. Call me when you're ready."
"Mr. President?"
"Yes?"
Olivia crossed to the foyer, stood on her tiptoes, while taking a hold of the President's arm. She kissed his cheek. Just a peck, but enough contact to see the affect when she pulled back. His cheeks blushed.
"See you in a bit."
What in the hell was she thinking?
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. I will return with more later this month. In the meantime, I am almost finished with an Olitz summer story that I was asked to write for a fundraiser. If you would like to read, check out the website - MS2SL (dot com). Donations received will go to organizations that help children who have cancer. If you need more info, message me. Take care! xo
