Hello peeps! Sorry for the slight delay in this chapter – let me tell you, it was challenging to write. I got stuck and re-wrote some things like 500,000 times, but I think I'm happy with the way it turned out! Also, I posted a short, meaningless Olitz dribble earlier this week if anyone wants to check it out (it's called Eat Me Up). It sort of just came out of me while I was stuck on this, lol. Anywho, I'll stop talking now. Enjoy!
Chapter 6: Happy Birthday, Mrs. Davis
Olivia wasn't exactly sure how she made it home; her body steered the car automatically while her mind was busy trying to deal with the storm of emotions Fitzgerald Grant had unleashed within her. Their conversation replayed on a loop in her head. Every word he said to her was seared into her memory. She could almost hear his confident baritone in her ear, and it made her spine tingle more than once.
Olivia kicked off her heels in the entryway of her house and made her way upstairs. A glance at the clock in her bedroom told her that it was much later than she'd planned to be home, and she knew that she needed to move quickly if she wanted to be ready for Edison on time. She stripped off her clothes as she headed to the bathroom, wishing that she could take a hot, soothing bath but knowing that she didn't have the time.
She turned on the shower and stopped in front of the full-length mirror, staring at herself as she waited for the water to heat up. Her eyes were bright, cheeks flushed. Her encounter with Fitz had left her feeling tight, achy, so she cupped her breasts in her hands and rubbed her thumbs gently over her nipples, wishing that they were Fitz's calloused fingers instead of her own. What she needed right now was a good, strong orgasm. She had been craving one even before her day with Fitz and now, after a long day of existing under his heated gaze, that need was magnified times one thousand. Olivia sighed and dropped her hands, shaking her head as she took a step closer to the mirror. She knew that she wasn't going to get the orgasm she craved, so she needed to snap out of it.
She had to stop thinking about Fitz. It was her birthday and she was getting ready for a night with her husband. Edison was the only man she ought to be thinking about. Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remember how just twenty-four hours earlier she had actually been looking forward to going to dinner with Edison. It would be nice to have his undivided attention for a change. They could talk and laugh and share stories about their day, talk about the news, discuss politics, whatever they wanted. Edison could hold her hand and give her compliments and maybe steal a kiss every now and then. They could be just like they used to be all the time—before they got married, before Edison was C.O.O., and before Fitz had taken Olivia's libido by storm.
Olivia took another deep breath and opened her eyes as she exhaled. She was going to focus on Edison and banish Fitz from her mind. She was going to enjoy one of the few date nights she had with Edison. She wasn't going to spend it thinking about Fitz or dreading the unfortunate fact that their date would have to be followed by a Davis Corporation party. She was just going to relax and let herself have a good time.
Olivia smiled confidently at herself in the mirror before she stepped into the shower.
Two hours later Olivia was back in front of the full-length mirror, this time fully dressed and ready to go. She grabbed the bottle of Caron Poivre perfume off the counter and spritzed it liberally across her neck, wrists, and underneath her dress as she turned and eyed herself approvingly in the mirror.
She was wearing a new metallic gold Michael Kors cocktail dress with black trim around her waist. The dress was mid-thigh length and sleeveless, so she'd paired it with a fitted black cardigan to help fight off the January chill. She was currently barefoot, but she was planning on slipping on her favorite black Jimmy Choo pumps. Shimmering gold earrings dangled from her ears, a gold Movado watch wrapped around her left wrist, and small gold heart—a gift from Edison years ago—hung from a fine chain around her neck. She had re-pressed and curled her hair, repainted her nails a nice nude color, and made her eyes pop with the perfect shade of eye shadow, eyeliner, and mascara. Lastly, she'd added the red lipstick that Edison used to claim was his favorite.
Olivia smiled brightly at her reflection. She looked gorgeous. She loved the contrast of the metallic gold material against her soft brown skin, not to mention that it hugged her toned, slender figure perfectly. She didn't look bad for twenty-nine. She was actually looking forward to seeing Edison's reaction to her outfit.
It would be more fun to see Fitz's reaction.
Olivia frowned. Thoughts like that had been involuntarily popping up in her mind the entire time she was getting ready. She suppressed them along with the ever-growing desire to—simply putting it—be fucked. She refused to let herself think about how badly she wanted Fitz's hands on her, in her, and instead made herself concentrate on Edison. She contemplated the probability of convincing him to indulge in a quickie with her before they left for the night, but she knew that it would never happen. He would have to arrive at home very soon in order for them to have enough time, and he was never really the spontaneous type anyway. Plus, tame sex with Edison wasn't what Olivia truly wanted. She wanted something hot, something passionate. She wanted to ruin her hair and bruise her skin and leave more lipstick on her partner than on herself. That was nothing that she was ever going to get from Edison.
Olivia went back into the bedroom and glanced at the clock, which now read 5:45. Their reservation was at 6:30. Edison told her that he would be there to pick her up no later than six—Olivia was assuming that he was going to change and get ready for the party in his office, which occasionally happened when he had a lot of work to do.
Olivia dug her shoes out of the closet, grabbed her black and gold Prada wristlet, and made her way downstairs to wait for Edison. She switched on the television in the living room and sat gingerly in an armchair, not really paying much attention to the news as it flashed across the screen. She contemplated—and not for the first time that night—pouring herself a glass of wine, but she decided against it. She planned on having a glass or two at dinner and there was no way she would survive one of Edison's company parties without taking advantage of the open bar, so she figured she should just wait. Edison would still have plenty to say about her wine-consuming habits without walking into the house to find Olivia already working on a glass. Olivia was sure that his mother would have a comment or two of her own to add as well.
Olivia sighed and tried not to think about how unexcited she was to see Edison's parents. His father, Albert Davis, wasn't really all that bad except for that he was a workaholic, just like Edison, and his company was seemingly the only thing that truly mattered to him. Edison's mother, Alma, was everything that Olivia was not—a career housewife who spent her days doting on Albert's every whim—and every time she got the opportunity she hinted that Olivia ought to quit her job and give birth to a bunch of strong, healthy boys to carry on the Davis name. She was arrogant and proud and Olivia hated every moment that she had to spend with the woman.
Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath to clear her mind once again. She wasn't going to think about Alma Davis tonight—at least, not until she and Edison arrived at the party and Olivia needed to figure out ways to avoid her. Until then, Olivia was going to keep her attitude positive.
Olivia's cell phone rang at six o'clock on the dot. She smiled and stood up as she dug it out of her wristlet, figuring that it was probably Edison calling to say that he was waiting for her outside. She slipped one of her pumps on her foot as she slid her thumb across her screen to answer the call.
"Hi Edison."
"Hey Liv."
"Are you outside?"
"Ahh…no," Edison answered, and Olivia paused with her second shoe still in her hand. She knew that tone all too well, "Listen, I'm gonna have to postpone dinner."
Olivia let the shoe fall to the floor, the familiar feeling of disappointment and sadness taking hold of her once again. Of course. Edison was putting work first. Again. She shouldn't have let herself look forward to dinner. She should have known better. But Edison had never bailed on her birthday before, and she had assumed that she at least meant that much to him. Not.
"Olivia?" Edison asked when she didn't say anything. Olivia sat back down on the armchair and closed her eyes, willing herself not to be upset. This was normal. This was what she should have been expecting.
"Okay," she said, her voice clipped. It was the only word she trusted herself to say without bursting into a fit of anger or tears.
"I'm sorry, I just—I had a meeting with my father, and it ran longer than I thought," Edison explained, "You know how my father is. I can't just walk out on one of his meetings."
Yes, you can.
"Okay," Olivia said again.
"I was thinking maybe we can just postpone dinner until tomorrow night?" Edison asked, "That way we can make a whole night of it. We can get tickets to one of those shows you like—they're probably sold out, but I'm sure I can get some. Then we can come home and—"
"No," Olivia interrupted, smiling humorlessly. She had made plans with her friends for tomorrow night. Edison knew that. Now he was just being insensitive. And Olivia wasn't going to cancel on her friends for him to maybe follow through with what he was saying.
"No?" Edison repeated, confused.
"Not tomorrow night, Edison," Olivia said firmly.
"But tomorrow is our last chance," Edison insisted, "I'm leaving for Sochi on Sunday, remember?"
"I remember," Olivia said sadly, "It's fine. We don't have to do dinner at all."
"But Olivia it's—"
"We don't have to do dinner, Edison," Olivia repeated bitterly, "I'm obviously not very high on your list of priorities. I wouldn't want to make you go through the trouble."
"Olivia, don't be like that. You know I work hard—"
"I know," Olivia said, shaking her head, "I don't need to hear your whole speech again, Edison."
"I'm going to call and push our reservations to tomorrow night—"
"Don't. I won't go tomorrow night. I already have plans."
"Hang out with your friends some other night, Liv."
"No. I want to see them tomorrow. Are you still going to pick me up for this stupid party?"
"Yes, but—"
"What time will you be here?"
"Olivia—"
"What time, Edison?" Olivia demanded. She was already so tired of hearing his voice. She wanted to hang up the phone so that she could properly scream and vent and throw things.
"I'll be there around eight."
"Okay. Goodbye, Edison," Olivia hung up the phone before Edison could say another word. She tossed it angrily on the sofa, kicked off the one shoe she was wearing, and stalked into the kitchen without a second of hesitation. She unearthed a bottle of red wine from the back of the freezer and poured herself a generous glass.
So much for having a glass or two at dinner.
Olivia took a sip and closed her eyes, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to ruin her makeup. So Edison had blown her off again, so what? She had learned a very long time ago not to let Edison's carelessness get under her skin. She had learned to numb herself to the loneliness and disappointment that was her marriage. She knew how to stifle the voice in the back of her head, the nagging one that wondered why she was unfortunate enough to have a husband who couldn't even be bothered to take her to dinner for her birthday. If she dwelled on those thoughts—why didn't Edison care? Why wasn't she good enough for his attention—they would consume her, drown her, ruin her evening and her next several days as well. She hated wallowing in self-pity, and so usually she chose to redirect her attention elsewhere.
Work was usually a good distraction. There was always more grading to be done and more lesson plans to be created, but Olivia had anticipated being busy for most of the weekend and had left the majority of her work at school. Exercise was another good distraction. Olivia had been captain of the swim team in high school, and she still loved to get a few laps in whenever she could. But she couldn't right now, not if she wanted to keep her outfit intact for the Davis Corporation party.
Why am I even going to this party, anyway?
Olivia opened her eyes and very, very carefully patted away the tears that clung to her lower lids. A glance at the clock told her that it was only a little past six. Edison was now not coming until eight. What was she going to do with herself, all dressed up, for the next two hours?
She briefly considered calling Abby or Quinn to see if one or both of them would be up for meeting her at the bar for a drink, but she quickly decided against it. She was sure they would be willing, but Olivia wasn't in the mood to explain what had happened or to hear their scathing remarks about Edison. And besides, Quinn was happily married and Abby was just as happily engaged. They both probably had plans with their significant others that night, and Olivia didn't want to disrupt them. Harrison was another possibility, but even he had been pretty hung on some girl lately—a Samantha or a Tabitha, something like that. Harrison went through ladies so fast that Olivia could never keep their names straight.
We should be friends.
Olivia's mind inevitably wandered to Fitz, and for once she didn't try to fight it. She wondered if he was serious, wanting to be friends with her. He'd offered to take her out, buy her a drink for her birthday. He barely knew her. That had to be just something he'd said in the heat of the moment. Or maybe not. Maybe he truly, genuinely liked her. Maybe he felt the same connection with her that she felt with him. Maybe he wanted to get to know her better.
Olivia contemplated actually calling Fitz. It was stupid and reckless and exactly what she wanted to do at that moment. She wanted to hear his voice, see his face. She liked the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her. Whether he meant to or not, he always knew how to make her feel appreciated.
Not to mention that she really wanted to sleep with him again.
Olivia shook her head and took another sip of wine to clear her thoughts. She couldn't call Fitz. They couldn't be friends. There was no way she could ever be only friends with him.
Sighing, Olivia picked up the bottle of wine and her glass and brought them both with her into the living room. She settled down on the sofa in front of CNN, prepared to moderately pace herself as she drank the next two hours away.
Two and a half hours later, Olivia slipped wordlessly into the passenger seat of Edison's silver 2014 Audi A8. She slammed the door forcefully behind her, knowing that rough treatment of his precious vehicle irritated him, and faced forward stoically. She didn't spare Edison a single glance.
"Olivia, I'm sorry. I never meant to—"
"Save it, Edison."
Olivia had caved and called Harrison while she waited for Edison to show up. Fortunately, Harrison wasn't busy and listened sympathetically while she ranted about Edison. They talked for over an hour—with Olivia making a slow but steady dent in her bottle of wine along the way—and thanks to Harrison's never-failing ability to cheer her up Olivia was no longer feeling sorry for herself. She was just mad—extremely mad—and she wasn't planning on getting over it anytime soon.
Edison fell silent as he pulled the car out of the driveway, but Olivia could feel him stealing side-glances at her. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking his way.
"You look beautiful," he finally said, "Is that a new dress? I don't remember it."
Olivia didn't respond. Inexplicably, Edison seemed to take that as a cue to lean in and kiss her cheek. Olivia flinched and pulled away from him before his lips could touch her skin, putting her hand up in between them to stop Edison from leaning closer.
"Olivia, don't be that way," Edison sounded like he was lecturing a small child. Olivia hated it.
"Don't touch me."
Edison frowned as he shifted fully back into his seat.
"I'm sorry, Liv. You know I'm sorry."
Olivia said nothing.
"I can make it up to you tonight," Edison tried again. He reached for her hand but Olivia yanked it away and shot him a warning glare, "I promise to take you out onto the dance floor. And depending on how the night goes maybe we can duck out of the party early. We can come home and light some candles and get you out of that pretty dress…"
Olivia actually felt physically repulsed at the idea of sex with Edison. It was never that big of a turn on anyway, and now it was just…no. She could never do it. Not with the way he'd been treating her, and especially not with the way she'd been aching for Fitz all evening long. A romantic after party with Edison did not sound the least bit appealing. Not to mention that she doubted whether Edison even had any intention of following through with his promises.
"…And we can heat up the massage oils and everything. Does that sound good?"
Olivia didn't respond.
"Liv?"
Silence. Edison sighed and let it drag on for a few moments before he spoke again.
"Well, I got you this," he said, and Olivia could see him holding something towards her out of the corner of her eye. She glanced at it and frowned. It was a small box wrapped in pretty light blue paper and tied with a silver bow, "I wanted to give it to you over dinner, but..."
"I don't want it," Olivia said resolutely, folding her arms across her chest and turning back to the window.
"You don't even know what it is."
"I don't want it."
"Come on, Liv. Just look inside."
Shooting Edison an annoyed glare, Olivia snatched the box from his hand and carefully tore open the paper. She opened the box to find a stunning set of silver diamond earrings—a pair of dangling ones along with a pair of studs. She couldn't tell where they came from, but she knew that they weren't cheap. Edison always spent an exorbitant amount of money on his gifts for her. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't gifts that Olivia truly wanted.
"They're beautiful," Olivia commented tonelessly, snapping the box shut and tossing it back into his lap, "I don't want them."
"What? Liv, I spent hours trying to pick out a pair that I thought you'd like!"
"I would've preferred if you spent those hours taking me to dinner instead."
"Olivia," Edison gave her a long, disapproving look.
"I don't want gifts, Edison!" Olivia exclaimed, exasperated. How was it possible that Edison never, ever seemed to grasp the point? "Gifts are nice but I have dozens of pairs of earrings and only one husband! What I really want for my birthday is you, Edison! I want for you to slow down and stop working long enough to spend one evening with me! I want you to realize that I fucking hate these stupid office parties, and just this once spend the night doing something that I would like to do! Other people in your office miss these parties all the time! Why can't you?"
"Other people aren't in the position that I'm in—"
"Screw your position, Edison! I don't care about your position! What about your position as my husband?" Olivia demanded, "Don't you remember when we used to actually spend time together, and we would talk and laugh and have fun and it felt like we actually meant something to each other? That's all I wanted. I just wanted, just for a couple of hours I wanted to mean more to you than your stupid job!"
"Olivia, you know that you mean more to me than my job."
"I don't know that! Why would I know that? What have we done in the last two weeks since you came back from Russia the first time that would lead me to believe that I mean more to you than your job? Have we spent any meaningful time together? Have we gone out on any dates? Have you told me that you love me?"
"I do love you, Olivia. I work all the time so that I can provide for you and—"
"Stop, Edison. I don't need a provider. I have a job of my own—"
"You could never afford all the nice things you buy on a teacher's salary! Those shoes you're wearing would probably cost you two paychecks! And what about the house we live in? Who built you a pool and a Jacuzzi and put in that ridiculous fancy bathtub so that you can take bubble baths?"
"I don't need those things, Edison! They're nice, and I appreciate them. I do. But what I really need is a husband who is there for me and who doesn't insult my career every ten minutes because I chose to do something that I love instead of making billions of dollars off of a corporation that pays it's unskilled laborers mere pennies—"
"I make time for you when I can, Olivia. You know that I do."
Olivia scoffed and turned back to the window. Edison would never understand, and she was tired of trying to make him see her point of view.
"Look," Edison said gently, "Why don't we go out tomorrow night—"
"I have plans tomorrow night, Edison. You know that!" Olivia exclaimed, "You know that I already blew off my friends tonight so that I could come to this party with you."
"Why don't I come with you tomorrow, then?"
Olivia eyed Edison warily. She couldn't remember the last time he had willingly joined her and her friends for anything. It had been years.
"You hate my friends," she reminded him brusquely. Edison shrugged.
"I know, but if it means I get to spend time with you then I guess I'm for it."
Olivia stared at Edison for a long moment, unsure whether to take him seriously or not. He was probably just doing that thing where he said what he thought she wanted to hear in order to temporarily appease her. Even if he wasn't, she almost couldn't even imagine what it would be like to have him join her on her night out. It would probably be awful. Abby would spend the night passive aggressively tossing snide comments towards him, Harrison would stare him down all night long, and Quinn would be intimidated into silence.
"No," Olivia said flatly after a moment of deliberation.
"No?" Edison repeated as if that was the last thing he'd expected to hear.
"No," Olivia confirmed, "I want to enjoy my night with my friends, not listen to you gripe about them all night long."
"Fine. How about brunch on Sunday?"
"Stop saying you'll do things that you have no intention of following through with, Edison."
"I'm going to follow through, Olivia."
"I don't believe you."
"Now you're just being difficult."
Olivia shrugged and turned back to the window once more. For once Edison took the hint and didn't say anything else. Olivia let her thoughts wander to Fitz. She wondered what he was doing right now. She pictured him at home with a glass of scotch or whiskey, relaxing in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. What she wouldn't give to be able to ditch Edison and join him, to snuggle up to his bare chest on a couch in a dimly lit living room. Olivia let herself get lost in her fantasy, and ten minutes later Edison pulled into the parking garage beneath the skyscraper that housed Davis Corporation headquarters. Company parties were always held in the grand ballroom on the ninety-eighth floor. Edison pulled the car into his assigned parking space—right next to the midnight blue Porsche that belonged to his father—and turned to face Olivia.
"Are you going to stay mad at me all night?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Olivia…" Edison reached for her hand and Olivia pulled it away for a second time.
"I told you not to touch me, Edison."
"You're overreacting. There's no need to be this upset—"
"Don't you dare start telling me how to feel," Olivia snapped. One of the first things they taught in child development courses was to never invalidate a child's feelings. Olivia had long since realized that the same could be applied to marriage therapy; never invalidate your spouse's feelings. Edison tried to do that to her all the time, and she hated it, "I'm allowed to feel however the hell I want and it is perfectly fine."
"I'm just saying, Liv," Edison softened his tone, "You know that I have an image to keep up in there."
"I know."
"And I'm going to need you to—"
"You need me to play the loving, adoring wife so that all your little work friends can see how perfect your home life is," Olivia interrupted, "I'm aware."
"So why don't you soften up a little bit—"
"I know how this circus act goes, Edison. We've been doing it for years. I know how to fake it by now."
"Good. So when we get out of the car you'll quit the woman scorned charade and let me hold your hand."
Olivia glared at him. It had never been more obvious than it was in this moment that he truly did not care about her feelings. The only thing he cared about was getting her to go along with what he wanted. How had she ended up married to a man so selfish?
"Not until we get out of the elevator. And I'll hold your hand, but don't you dare try to kiss me in that ballroom. Not even a peck on the cheek. I'll embarrass you so much you'll regret pressuring me to come to this party in the first place."
Edison reached for her hand as soon as the elevator reached the ninety-eighth floor. Olivia took a deep breath and put on her best false happy face as she allowed him to lead her out into the hallway.
"Are you better now, Liv?" Edison muttered as they approached the set of French doors at the entrance to the ballroom. There were a few people milling about in the hallway, and Olivia smiled politely at the ones who seemed familiar.
"I'm going to behave, if that's what you're asking."
"Good."
They entered the ballroom, which was already quite full. There was a band playing and a few people were already on the dance floor while others stood around talking and nibbling on hors de oeuvres. A small crowd had gathered near the open bar, which Olivia eyed longingly. Edison led her towards the front of the ballroom to the section that was reserved for the company's top executives. Olivia could already see Edison's mother and father socializing with a small group of people, most of whom she recognized from previous work events.
They joined the group and pleasantries were exchanged. Olivia forced herself to smile politely and pretend to be every bit the adoring wife that Edison wanted to show off. She accepted compliments gracefully, hugged Alma Davis, and allowed Edison to slide a possessive arm around her waist as they joined the conversation. Olivia paid attention but didn't say much—truthfully, she wasn't the least bit interested in the inner goings-on of the company. Eventually the group broke apart and Edison led her around the ballroom, meeting and greeting with dozens of Davis Corporation employees and their significant others. After awhile Edison and Olivia separated, and Olivia found herself engaging in boring chit-chat with the wives of a few other executives.
Over an hour after they arrived Olivia excused herself from the group she was with and made her way to the bar. Edison was already there with a group of executives, and Olivia sidled up next to him.
He turned to her as she requested a glass of wine from the bartender and she smiled brightly at him, reveling in the annoyed expression on his face. If there was anything Edison hated more than Olivia drinking at home, it was her drinking in public.
"I don't know that you should be drinking right now, Olivia," he said quietly.
"Oh relax, Edison," Olivia said lightly, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. To the outsider, it would look like they were having a lighthearted conversation, "It's just one glass of wine. And you know damn well all these other wives are having a glass as well."
"All of these other wives aren't married to the Chief Operating Officer," Edison said, his tone full of warning, "You are better than them."
Olivia shrugged and accepted her drink from the bartender with a gracious smile. Edison glared at her as she pointedly took a slow sip. She smiled at him again.
"Mmm…this is delicious. Go back to your conversation, honey. I'm sure whatever they're talking about is very important. I wouldn't want you to miss it."
With that, Olivia sauntered off in the direction of Sandra Harding, wife of Chief Sales Officer Ned Harding and a state senator herself. Sandra was one of the few women at these events who Olivia genuinely liked. She was driven and successful and interesting to talk to, unlike most of the other woefully boring housewives in attendance.
The two women hugged in greeting and Sandra immediately asked about Olivia's students, which propelled them into an animated conversation about their respective careers. They talked for nearly ten minutes before a deep frown appeared on Sandra's face.
"Watch out, Liv," she narrowed her eyes, "It looks like the slutty intern is trying to get cozy with Edison."
"The slutty intern?" Olivia asked, following Sandra's gaze. Sure enough, a tall, young brunette was now talking to Edison at the bar. Olivia watched as Edison laughed at something the woman said and she brazenly took a step closer to him.
"Yeah, Amanda Tanner," Sandra said, taking a sip of her wine, "She's an intern in some department—accounting, I think. According to Travis she's a gold-digging whore who flirts with the executives every chance she gets."
Travis was Sandra's twenty-five year old son, who was following his father's footsteps and working his way up the company.
"Apparently, she found out that Travis is Ned's son and decided to slut it up with him too," Sandra continued, "Travis assures me that he put an end to it, though."
Olivia frowned, not sure how to react to the interaction between Amanda Tanner and her husband. She wasn't typically the jealous type, and as far as she knew Edison had never cheated on her. She had never had any reason to suspect infidelity on his part; then again, he never seemed to suspect that she had once cheated on him and he was always coming up with new ways to disappoint her, so maybe she wouldn't be surprised if he was cheating.
"That girl is a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen," Sandra remarked, "She has to know that Edison is married."
Olivia took a sip of her wine and watched as Amanda Tanner placed a hand on her husband's forearm. She felt a flash of irritation when Edison didn't immediately move away, but it was nothing like the jealousy she once thought that she would feel if she saw another woman blatantly flirting with her husband. What was there about Edison to get possessive of, anyway? Broken promises? Bad sex? Insensitivity? Not to mention that she had already cheated on him first, and she was very, very tempted to do it again.
Before she could comment, Edison glanced around and made eye contact with Olivia. Olivia glared at him, and he quickly pulled away from Amanda Tanner and began crossing the room towards Olivia and Sandra.
"Oh, here he comes. I'll just make myself scarce, then. I'll catch up with you later, Liv," Sandra excused herself and hurried off as Edison approached. Olivia continued to glare at him.
"What is that look for, Olivia?" Edison asked.
"What look?" Olivia asked innocently.
"That look," Edison said, gesturing towards Olivia's face. Olivia smiled.
"There's no look, Edison. I was just observing the fact that you let another woman touch you while your wife is fifty feet away, that's all."
"That's an intern, Amanda. She was just asking some questions about my position, that's all."
"Oh yes, and we all know that you love to talk about your position."
"Dance with me, Olivia."
Olivia frowned. Was he serious? Two minutes ago he was letting another woman flirt with him and now he was over here asking her to dance?
"No, thank you."
"But you love to dance."
"Not with you," thoughts of her seductive dance with Fitz from two years ago briefly surfaced in Olivia's mind as the words left her mouth. She wished Fitz were there asking her to dance instead of Edison. She wanted to be near him again, let him hold her in his arms again.
"Olivia—"
"Edison! Olivia! What are you two doing over here?"
Olivia cringed as Alma Davis approached them from seemingly out of nowhere and stopped next to Edison, who dutifully kissed her cheek.
"Hello mother."
"Hello dear. It's not like you to hide out in the corner like this. Is everything alright?"
"Just fine, mother. Olivia was just catching up with her friend, Sandra Harding."
"Oh, Senator Harding! She's a lovely woman," Alma said, "Although she didn't spend enough time at home raising her son, if you ask me. That boy walks around here like he owns the place. He's got a different girl hanging off of his arm every day of the week!"
"He'll grow out of it," Edison assured her, "He's going to be a great businessman, like his dad."
"I hope so. Speaking of sons who take after their fathers…" Alma cast a critical eye over Olivia, and Olivia braced herself for the veiled insult that she knew was sure to come, "…Are you sure that it's wise to be drinking alcohol, dear? Edison told me that the two of you are finally trying to conceive again."
"Excuse me?" Olivia asked, snapping her eyes to Edison, "You told your mother what?"
"I said that we want to try again soon, mother. Soon," Edison said quickly, offering Olivia a slightly apologetic shrug.
"Soon?" Olivia repeated. This was news to her. She and Edison hadn't talked about having a baby in months, and the last time had ended in a shouting match, with Edison indirectly suggesting that Olivia quit her job altogether and Olivia demanding that Edison cut back on the traveling and the long hours.
"Olivia, dear, you're not getting any younger," Alma admonished, "Edison tells me that you've been worried ever since the miscarriage," Olivia visibly flinched and turned to glare at Edison, but Alma either didn't notice or didn't care. She kept talking, "But women go on to have perfectly healthy babies after miscarriages all the time. Plus, this time you know to take better care of yourself. You really ought to stop working. The stress just cannot be good for a pregnancy, especially not if we want to have a nice, strong, healthy boy to take over his grandfather's company when he gets old enough. Or a girl, I suppose. Female CEO's are getting more and more commonplace, although I don't know how these girls can possibly make time for their families."
Alma finally stopped talking. Olivia was by this time glaring steadfastly at Edison, her lips drawn into a thin, angry line. Her miscarriage was not something that she liked to think about, much less discuss in a public setting, but of course Edison had gone and told his mother that she was worried about miscarrying again. Which was true, of course—what woman wouldn't be worried?—but it was far from being the only thing that stopped her from wanting to try again. Edison knew that.
Edison, to his credit, seemed to realize that Olivia was now angrier than she had been all night and that Alma had crossed a line.
"Mother, you know that the miscarriage is a sensitive subject for Olivia—"
"Of course, but I'm never going to get any grandchildren if she doesn't get over it."
Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself not to get too angry or emotional. She wouldn't do this in public.
"Olivia and I agreed that she should take as much time as she needs," Olivia opened her eyes as Edison tried to reach for her hand reassuringly. She pulled it away, "You will have your grandchildren one day, mother. I promise."
"Well I'd like to have them before I'm dead!"
"Soon, mother—"
"You said that a year ago—"
"I need to use the restroom," Olivia interrupted, her voice shaking with anger. She could not stand around and listen to another second of Edison and his mother complain about her reproductive shortcomings.
"I'll come with you, Liv," Edison said.
"No," Olivia shot him a look that clearly stated that she would make a scene if he tried to follow along, "Do not follow me, Edison."
She turned on her heel and stalked away from Edison and his mother.
Olivia didn't go to the bathroom—it was sure to be crowded, and after her conversation with Edison and his mother she didn't feel like being around anyone. She suddenly felt claustrophobic as she made her way across the ballroom. The room was too loud and a sea of unfamiliar faces surrounded her. Without a second thought, Olivia headed straight for the French doors and out into the hallway. Glancing around, she noticed the door to the stairs just a couple of feet away from the elevator. She pushed it open and burst into the empty stairwell, slumping against the cement wall. She let her back slide further and further down until she was in a sitting position.
When she was sure that the door had closed all the way behind her, Olivia kicked her shoes to the side and brought her knees to her chest. She tilted her forehead to her knees, covered her head with her arms, and released a muffled sob. Finally. She felt like she had been holding that in all evening.
Get over it. Alma's words echoed in Olivia's head, and she suppressed the urge to go back into the ballroom and strangle the older woman. With just a few sentences Alma had managed to make Olivia's night go from bad to incomparably worse. Olivia wasn't sure if she was more angry with Alma for her insensitive comments or with Edison, who had clearly been feeding his mother lines about Olivia's miscarriage to explain why they still weren't trying to conceive a child. They were two of the most selfish, self-serving people that she knew. And yet, they were the only family she knew.
Edison, Olivia decided as she let tears flow freely down her cheeks—makeup be damned. She was definitely angrier with Edison.
Her miscarriage was notsomething that she liked to talk about. Edison knew that. Alma should have known that. Olivia rarely even let herself think too much about her miscarriage. It had been one of the darkest moments of her life—topped only by her mother's death when she was twelve years old. Olivia's father had sent her away not long after her mother's passing. She grew up used to being alone, but she had never felt more lonely than she had lying in that hospital bed—her father a nonfactor, her husband in another city, the child that she hadn't even known she was carrying just gone. Luckily she had friends who were willing to step up and fill the void. Abby, Harrison, and Quinn had been by her side from the moment she called on them. They were her heroes.
It was true what Edison had said to Alma; the fact that her first pregnancy had ended in a miscarriage made Olivia much more nervous about attempting to conceive again. It was true that Edison had agreed to allow Olivia as much time as she needed to feel comfortable with the idea. But he had no right to tell Alma, especially when he knew that the miscarriage was not the only reason why they hadn't started trying again. She and Edison couldn't agree on anything when they discussed having kids—not how many they wanted, not how many years they would wait between having them, not even potential baby names. Most importantly, they couldn't agree on which one of them would scale back at work in order to raise their future family.
Olivia let herself cry for a long time. She was tired of holding herself together, tired of playing the adoring wife when in reality she was so…hurt. And she was angry with Edison for his actions. And she was even more hurt and more angry that he never, ever showed the slightest hint of contrition. It never seemed to matter to him when she was upset. She was tired of it all. Olivia just wanted to sit there and hide in the stairwell for the rest of the night.
She knew that she had been gone much longer than it normally took to use the bathroom and that Edison was probably looking for her, but she didn't care. He wouldn't think to look for her in the stairwell and she had no intention of going back into the party. Edison and his image could go to hell.
Eventually Olivia raised her head and wiped the tears from her face. She thought about getting up and leaving the building. Edison had driven her there, but she could always take a cab home. She just didn't have the motivation or the energy to get up, and she definitely didn't feel like going home to an empty house. She thought about calling Harrison again, but this time she knew he was busy. He had mentioned having plans with his latest girlfriend when they talked on the phone earlier, and Olivia wasn't going to take him away from that just so he could come and try to drag her out of her misery.
Her thoughts wandered to Fitz. She wished that she were with him right now. She didn't know all that much about him, but he seemed like a pretty decent guy. She wasn't sure whether she should believe that their one-night stand meant something to him or that he had thought about her every day since, but they had gotten along very well during the field trip and she did believe that he liked her and that he would never mean to hurt her. He probably wouldn't like to see her so upset. He probably would know just the right thing to say to make her smile.
Olivia closed her eyes and let herself imagine that Fitz was sitting next to her. Her fantasy Fitz would put his arms around her and whisper reassuring words while she snuggled deep into his chest, away from all of the bad things in the world. He would rub her arms soothingly and press soft kisses to the top of her head. He would make Edison disappear, and he would make her feel so much better.
Olivia opened her eyes. She wondered what Fitz was doing right now, if he was busy. Maybe she could call him. He had said that he wanted to be friends, after all.
Don't be stupid, Olivia.
Olivia unzipped her wristlet and pulled out her phone. Edison had called twice, unsurprisingly, but her phone was on silent and she wouldn't have answered even if she had heard it ring. Olivia scrolled through her contacts until she reached Fitzgerald Grant. She stared at it for a few moments, her finger hovering over the call button.
We should be friends.
His words echoed in her head. She remembered the sincerity in his voice. She remembered the dismal expression on his face when she shut him down, told him that nothing good could come out of a friendship between them. She had been lying. She knew that something very good could come out of their friendship. The question was, was it morally sound for two married people to begin a friendship already knowing that they wanted more?
We could be good friends, Olivia.
With that promise in mind, Olivia closed her eyes and pressed the call button. She brought the phone up to her ear and listened to it ring, not at all sure about what her intentions were or what she was going to say if Fitz answered the phone.
"Hello?" his voice was low and husky, but not sleepy, and Olivia sighed in relief as it sounded in her ear. Somehow, just that one word had her feeling better already.
"Hi," she whispered, unable to speak any louder without betraying the fact that she had been crying.
"Hi."
Neither one of them said anything else, and silence stretched between them. Olivia wasn't sure how to break it. What should she say? What did she want? Well, she knew what she really wanted—to go to Fitz, wherever he was, and just have him hold her in those big, strong arms of his. But that was unrealistic. What else did she want? How could she even begin to describe to him what she was feeling right now?
"Olivia?" he finally asked, confusion obvious from his tone. Olivia panicked.
"I'm—I'm sorry," she stammered, "I didn't mean to—I shouldn't have called you. I should let you go."
"Wait a minute. Are you okay?" Fitz asked. There was genuine concern in his voice. It almost made Olivia start crying again.
"Yes," she said hastily. Then, after a second, "No."
"What's wrong?"
"I…" Olivia didn't know how to explain. She wasn't even sure if she could explain. And it was a long story, anyway, "…Are you busy?"
"That depends," Fitz responded carefully, "Is this Mrs. Davis, my son's teacher, calling? Or is this Olivia, the charming and intelligent woman who I think about all the time and who I would very much like to be able to consider a friend?"
Charming and intelligent woman.
Who I think about all the time.
Part of Olivia hummed to life at his words. Was it possible that he really wanted her friendship? Did he mean that he thought about her all the time the same way that she thought about him?
Olivia opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated, unsure of which person she should be.
"Olivia," she said finally, "This is Olivia."
"Olivia," Fitz repeated. She shivered. She had never enjoyed the way her name sounded as much as she did when it was dripping from his lips. He made it sound soft and sweet. He made it feel like a caress, "I'm not too busy to speak to my friend, Olivia."
"You meant what you said?" Olivia asked tentatively, "You really want to be friends?"
"Of course I meant it," Fitz answered, "You're an amazing woman, Olivia. I love every second of every conversation we have. I would be honored to consider you a friend."
"Good," Olivia let out a long exhale and closed her eyes as her heart beat faster, a rush of warmth running through her at the idea of being friends, "I could really use a friend right now."
"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"No…not physically. I don't know if I can talk about it. I just…I'm at this party, the one I told you about earlier, and I need to get away. I can't stay here anymore."
"You're calling me from your husband's work party?" Fitz asked, sounding surprised. Olivia made herself not think about how awful that sounded out loud—how she was hiding from a party while her husband searched for her, calling the man she'd been yearning to sleep with for years. A man who she had just agreed to become friends with. Whatever that meant.
"Yes," she answered shakily, "Well, I'm in a stairwell."
"What are you doing in the stairwell?" Fitz asked. The genuine care in his voice made Olivia's insides melt. When was the last time that Edison had expressed any concern for her whatsoever? He had done so many things that hurt her that night, and he had never once asked her if she was doing okay.
Olivia considered herself to be a fairly private person, but in that moment she wanted to blurt out everything to Fitz. He was going through a divorce, wasn't he? His marriage couldn't have been perfect. Maybe he would listen. Maybe he would understand how she felt.
Olivia held herself back. It was wrong, to complain about Edison to Fitz. It was just…wrong.
"I just…needed to get away from everyone," she said quietly.
"Why don't you just leave?"
Good question.
"I don't know."
Fitz didn't say anything, and the line was silent for a long moment. It wasn't like the previous silence, where Olivia had been panicking and struggling to come up with something to say. This one was more companionable, Olivia and Fitz each lost in their own thoughts.
"You can come to me, if you like," Fitz said finally, "My wife and I fight all the time. I know it's hard when you're angry. You don't want to be around them in public, you don't want to have to falsify being the perfect couple. You don't want to go home, because you know they'll eventually come home too and you'll just start arguing again. You can come hang out with me, if you need to get away for awhile…"
Yes. Olivia's stomach automatically tightened in anticipation. That was what she wanted, to be near Fitz. She marveled at the fact that he seemed to know exactly how she was feeling. She hadn't necessarily argued with Edison, but the sentiment was the same. She didn't want to be around him. She didn't want to be at the home she shared with him. And she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts and hurt feelings, either.
"…I'm at a bar, a friend of mine works here, but you're welcome to join me," Fitz continued, "I'll buy you a drink. It's still your birthday. I still owe you one. And we're…we're friends, right? Friends cheer up other friends when they're feeling down."
"I don't know," Olivia whispered. Every part of her body and soul was screaming yes. Yes, she wanted to join him. Yes, he could buy her a drink. Yes, they could celebrate her birthday and be friends and he could cheer her up. But her mind hesitated. Could she really leave Edison's party to go hang out with the man she'd once cheated on him with? Could she really be friends with Fitz? What would Edison do when he couldn't find her? How could she explain her whereabouts to him?
"It's just an offer, Olivia. You don't have to say yes."
But the thought of saying no pained her. Olivia hesitated for a second longer, contemplating the consequences of her actions.
"Yes," she said finally, drawing in a deep breath, "Yes, I'll join you…"
AN: Hope that was worth the wait! Edison was an asshole. Big surprise there (NAHT). A lot of you actually guessed that he would screw up somehow and Olivia would go running to Fitz (gold stars to you guys). The rest of you thought that Fitz would be in the food business (even though I mentioned before that he's a professor, um hello, lol) and would show up at the party, which actually would have been pretty awesome too—I can just see that Olitz tension in my mind.
Anywho, we also learned in this chapter that Olivia had a miscarriage. Very sad, very sad. I hope that it didn't seem like it came way out of left field, though. I tried to hint at it in the last chapter but idk if I did a good job. And for those of you who are like huh wtf, we're going to find out more details about it eventually! I promise!
Lastly, have I mentioned lately that I love your reviews? I do. Now, who thinks they know what kind of shenanigans Olitz will get into for the rest of the night?
