How was he able to do this?
When did Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III learn how to eat out a woman so well? When did he have time — in between traveling, legislating, campaigning, or being the leader of the free world — to learn how to beautifully unravel a woman's sensitive core. Specifically Olivia's. How was he able to do all of this, given his rusty experience in the recent past? Had he been noticing the effect he had on her when he touched her?
Being the logical one, Olivia was trying to ponder this while squirming against the bed. If it was anyone else, she wouldn't have cared. But with each careful maneuver that brought her closer to the edge, she relinquished mental control. How did she get so lucky?
"Fitz…"
Everything was going so quickly. Her legs trembled as the man continued to explore, using his hands to enhance the sensations she was feeling. Touching her, worshipping her. Between generous licks and sucks, along with soft kisses, he'd mumble something that make her heart flutter.
"I love you."
"Fitz..."
"You're so beautiful."
His words sounded like melted chocolate, and his touch was exquisite and smooth.
"Honey," she groaned, overwhelmed physically and emotionally.
"Yes, sweet baby?"
"I need you to—"
The phone rang.
Olivia started to lift herself but Fitz nudged her to lie back down. Feeling his thumb on her swollen clit, she attempted to focus back on what he was doing, to get back in the mood.
But the phone started to ring again. The grip on his soft curls loosened even though his mouth latched onto her lower lips, with his tongue swirling. The more it rang, the more intense Fitz became. Hands splayed on her skin, continuing to seduce her, and convince her that it was only them. Nothing else would matter.
He quickly blurted, "Ignore it."
"What if it's work?"
She gasped when Fitz rose to pounce towards her; he was in her face, but he didn't hesitate to answer. "But I am working."
Then he returned to his work as Olivia covered her mouth, giggling. Just as she was trying to focus, to reach her high. Her first orgasm because of him, their favorite ambient sound returned.
Olivia shook her head, knowing that he would be pissed. Softly, she commented, "You should probably get this."
"Motherfuck!"
Fitz slammed his hand against the mattress. When he sat up, Olivia saw her handiwork — hair tousled, his mouth marked with her arousal. Reaching to grab the receiver and pressing the speaker button, he growled, "Yes?"
"Sorry to interrupt you, Sir, but Rob is on the line for you."
Olivia slowly pulled herself together, eyeing the layers of clothes she took off. Fitz took her hand, bringing her close. It appeared that he didn't want any of this to end.
"Don't go," he whispered, before switching to a tone that resembled professional and flat-out annoyed. "What is it, Rob?"
"Have you seen Olivia?"
"What?"
"I've been trying to get in touch with her and she has not answered. I need to get a hold of her immediately."
Olivia could feel her heart plummet, but remained still.
"What is going on?"
"The outlets are asking for a statement to this afternoon's appearance. Folks are speculating that you and the First Lady are only together for show. We want to make sure the verbiage is on track."
Fitz covered his face and sighed. "Have you called her office?"
"We have used all the numbers she has given us. No one knows where she is. You were our last hope."
Once again, this was fucking everything up. She let her emotions and raw lust, a need to receive attention, to cloud her vision. Not that it was wrong, just the wrong time. Now she'll have to come up with a solution.
Rob shortened the awkward silence. "Alright, well, if you hear from her, please call me, Mr. President."
Fitz agreed, slammed the phone down, glanced over at Olivia, fully clothed. He sighed. "I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you."
"Find the woman."
"What?"
Slipping on her shoes, while attempting to hide her guilt, Olivia commanded, "Have Cyrus or Rob send me a list of names, so we can vet them."
Fits stood defeated — only in slacks, with a peek of his black boxers briefs. His pitiful looks were not going to distract her, especially with being nearly caught again.
How much longer until someone would "accidentally" open the door? Be in the right place at the wrong time? Find them in a truly compromising position. Slipping because a potential dick appointment and she didn't even get to experience it at all. It was probably for the best. The universe knew she couldn't handle this level of intimacy.
"Don't give me that look. Twenty-four hours. You only call me when you find her. Or when she signs. Nothing else."
They faced each other, toe-to-toe. She didn't say anything more and he didn't try to interfere.
And then, she pivoted away. No goodbye kiss, no eyelashes to bat. Nothing.
Olivia marched to the service elevator, and out the side door. Dragging her fingers through her hair, she was able to escape the presidential grounds. Finally, she could let her guard down. Embarrassed was an understatement. Yanking, the lanyard off her purse, then checking her phone. Thirty missed calls. Calling the office was a must.
"Liv, where the fuck have you been? Our lines have been busy all evening. Do you know how bad we look?"
Stephen never yelled at her. Ever. But hearing his harsh greeting let her know that her actions in private were already taking a toll on the group. And they had no clue what was going on.
"I haven't been feeling good."
Suddenly, he changed his tone and apologized. "Right. I know it has been a rough few days for you. I don't want to hold you long, but we need you."
"How soon? I need to get freshened up," Olivia asked, quietly approaching her car. "I need to change. Just in case someone else calls and i need to rush to the next place."
"As soon as you can."
"Okay."
Driving in silence, she contemplated the next step. It didn't take long for her to mentally repent and do her best to get moving. Olivia made it to her apartment in record time, pulling off the clothes that smelled like him, dumping them into the hamper. A shower would do her body and soul good. The hot water on her skin, sobering her up from this fog. Clearing her mind.
It was time to look the part. Setting her hair back into a tight and neat ponytail. A blouse and slacks. Sensible pair of three-inch black heels.
Back to the formidable Olivia C. Pope, fixer of messy situations. Everything could be worked on, unless it was a problem of her own.
Everyone's car was in the lot, unfortunately. When she arrived, the team was in the conference room, studying notes, typing away.
"Sorry, everyone, for keeping you waiting," she announced, setting her purse down on the table. "Update me."
"All of the outlets have been asking for a current statement from the White House. About the announcement. What do you want us to say?"
Olivia immediately gave her spin - "The First Couple is dedicated to make their mark on the country is a positive way. Honoring their late son, Fitzgerald the IV, is very important to them. With this initiative, all children can gain access to education that lead them to successful lives and careers."
When she finished, she looked for everyone's response. Slow nods from Huck and Harrison. Stephen had finished transcribing. Quinn was ecstatic; her mentor had seamlessly resolved an issue. Abby remained stoic, but approved.
"Okay, let's send it over. Hopefully they'll give us a rest for a few."
After a few minutes, everyone ventured off to their offices or their next duties. Abby remained in the conference room. Olivia turned away, but could sense the judgment on her skin. Snatching a few folders, she tried to read the notes. Looking busy and hoping that her best friend would keep it scooting.
But she didn't.
Lifting her head, she waited for Abby to come out with it.
"This isn't like you."
"What?"
Abby repeated sharply, placing her hands on her hips. "You don't do this. Never at work? Missing calls? Giving bullshit answers. You're being sidetracked."
"What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean, Olivia."
The runaround was obnoxious. Raising her voice, she demanded, "How about you clarify, Abby! I am here."
"Olivia Pope. You are physically here but you are not present. You're not with us. Just stop. Get your shit together."
"Excuse me?"
"You. The President."
Olivia snarled, glaring at Abby. "What are you talking about?"
"He's the X factor. He's the distraction. He's the reason why you are not on your A game."
"You are out of line," she pointed, teeth gritted.
Abby let out a laugh, "See? It's right there. I tried to look away but it's too obvious, Liv."
She wanted to lie, shout out accusations of reading into things. Wanting to reach out and give her a piece of her mind. Abby was usually always right when it came to analyzing Olivia's body language.
But her mouth remained shut because there was nothing to say.
The phone buzzed, interrupting the staredown. The wrong one.
"What is that?"
Olivia rolled her eyes, mumbling, "The burner the White House gave me."
"What? Why?"
"I guess since it's the First Couple's personal life, they don't want to get bugged. Cyrus has one as well."
Abby didn't move from her interrogating stance. "We are only going to follow whatever your example as a leader. If your work is sloppy, you can't expect us to miraculously change things around. Stop making excuses and lead, dammit!"
Olivia watched her friend and employee storm off. Her wake caused the door to slam.
He called five times.
The second time around, Olivia put the phone on silent. She could have turned it off, but that would have caused an emergency.
Using the alone time, she let her mind narrow in on what needed to be done. Ideas were flowing. How to make this all work. Revising her plan.
How she was going to make Mellie sign those papers? How was this transition going to happen smoothly, without another hurricane brewing? That didn't involve her. There had to be a way and she was going to help Fitz to do this. That meant answering his call, unfortunately.
The screen brightened, catching her eye. Olivia grabbed the burner, pushing the call through.
"What is it?"
"Hi."
His voice was soft and low, in comparison to her cold greeting.
"Did you find someone? I need a name."
"No."
The lack of courtesy on his part. To even admit that he had not even tried to follow Olivia's counsel. It was blowing her mind. How could a client be so, willingly rebellious?
"Goodbye, Mr. President."
"Olivia."
She had never heard him say her name that way before. It was stern, commanding, bold, and downright sexy.
"I didn't want to end our night on a bad foot. Please, don't hang up on me."
"Don't."
"What's wrong? This doesn't seem like you."
"I have work to do," she replied, keeping her resolve.
"You always have work to do."
Her voice lowered to a whisper. She didn't want the others to hear. "Please."
"Livvie."
The desperation in his voice made her replay everything. The tense introduction. Meetings with Mellie. The two trips. The photos. The press conference. Hearing him talk in the hallway.
"I'm not a rebound."
"Excuse me?"
Olivia took a deep breath. She had follow through and use her own advice. "I don't want you to see me as a quick fix replacement for Mellie."
"Where is this coming from?"
"I'm not a placeholder to your endgame, Fitz."
And then he paused. "Wait," he gathered, "were you nearby when I was talking to her? After the press conference?"
Olivia swallowed. "It was hard not to hear you."
"Livvie, I don't see you as a rebound."
"Well, I feel like it sometimes. Sneaking off, can't even talk to you in public. A burner? Keeping quiet so no one knows."
"Yes, you can! You can do whatever you want. You've been the one acting so discreet."
Olivia scoffed, throwing her free hand in the air. "No, I cannot. My career will tank. No one is going to see me as reputable. They will cut me off. I cannot handle that."
Quickly, Fitz answered. "I'll support you."
"By using government money? Yeah, that will go over so well during your numerous congressional hearings."
"That's enough. Will you just stop?"
Olivia's voice deepened as she rattled off to him, "No. You don't tell me what to do. I tell you. You hired me."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. You are at the mercy of what I say. But you have choices. If you don't do what I say, it could ruin you. But if you actually try to act on my guidance, it would let you leave this White House, still being a honorable man. Now what is your choice?"
Her heart was beating fast. What kind of power did she wield? Telling the President of the United States what his options were. To not shrink, but boldly confront him. It was for his benefit.
Fitz did not answer, so she did it for him.
"Find her, or I will find her for you. The longer you wait, the longer we don't get to be."
Right after she hung up with Fitz, the office line rang.
Harrison called out, "Liv, it's for you."
Olivia answered. The voice sounded familiar but still unusual.
"Olivia?"
"Yes?"
"This is Jake Ballard."
Just the name alone was enough to slam the receiver back down, but Olivia didn't want to add more fuel. "Ah, yes. How are you?"
"Better now that I have you on the line. You're tough to get a hold of."
Olivia chuckled, "Yes. It's been a busy day. You're quite persistent."
"So," Jake started, "Speaking of today. The Was the fake ass press conference the story you promised me?"
"It was not fake," she grinned, crossing her leg over the other.
There was some arm twisting on Mellie Grant's part, but with the right verbiage, the idea of an educational foundation was well-received. It would make am impact on the Administration. Olivia added, "It was a wonderful event that you and the press corps was able to observe. The First Family is dedicated to education of the nation's children, and was able to honor their late son."
Jake sucked his teeth. "Not exactly what I was looking for. I'm sure there is more behind this."
"That is all I can give. You would have to ask Robert Keller, communications director. I'm sure you have crossed paths."
"Cut the bullshit, Liv. Can I call you that. Liv?"
His pretentious tone was aggravating and they were not a place where pet names could be casually passed around like a plate at dinnertime. "No, actually, you may not," she replied firmly. "Olivia works just well for you."
Jake rushed, "Ok, fine. I've heard, Olivia, of a rumor. There is another woman involved. Besides Amanda Tanner."
"Oh? Through whom?"
"A reliable source."
Olivia fiddled with the pen, thankful to only be on the phone, and not a Skype call. "Okay. How reliable?"
"I trust my source."
"Then what is it?"
Jake calmly explained, "The President was seen at a small boutique in France a few months ago. My source informed me a purchase was made. A ring. Antique and one-of-a-kind. There is one problem, Olivia. The few times we've seen the First Lady since the separation announcement, there have been no additional jewelry on her fingers, except for her wedding band. Care to comment?"
As he talked, Olivia's eyes lowered towards it. The one tangible piece that connected her to the President of the United States. A small treasure that was becoming an eyesore.
"I was not with the President during that time."
Jake interjected, sounding more irritated as time went on. "But you were on that trip, Olivia. It has become obvious that you two are more than acquaintances. Did he mention it to you, since you officially are on task to help him and the First Lady with optics? A beautiful ring would most certainly create the buzz they want."
Olivia squashed his hypothetical scenario. "I was only present to help with his statements. You too were in Europe, as well the other handpicked journalists to accompany the tour. I'm surprised you didn't follow along during his excursions. That would have been a big break for you, no? Since that's what you're here for. Come ups A way to make it to the front room in the Press Room?"
The silence was telling.
A smirk crossed her mouth as she was ready to finish this conversation. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Ballard? In the future, please keep your calls to matters that actually important, instead of looking for stale breadcrumbs to further your career."
She must have struck a nerve; the harsh click was a decent response. A haughty laugh followed as she returned to her laptop. Emails were piling up. If there was an extra day in the week to concentrate on all the projects she had Pre-Fitz, she would feel better.
"Is there anyone you need before we head out?"
Harrison was standing at the door. Olivia stood, asking to get the whole team. When they appeared, she gave their marching orders. "When you all return in the morning. I need all hands on deck. We need to know what the First Lady has been doing since she moved to Blair House, and shortly prior. Let's see if we can get access to the Amanda Tanner file. As well as finding dirt on Jacob Ballard, of the Press Corps."
The group looked at each other. Quinn asked, "Are they all working together? Did something come up?"
"I just got off the phone with him. He seems a little too close to the fire. I'm most suspicious of him right now. If he doesn't watch it..."
Abby's eyes lit up, "Burn, baby, burn!"
Everyone laughed. Olivia insisted that they all pack up so they could get at least, six hours of sleep.
As they left the office, heading towards the elevator, Olivia was still thinking about the phone call. It was a wake up call. There was another layer to this assignment. More clues. A new issue that needed to be dealt with. If Jake Ballard was sniffing around for information, then surely others were too, right behind him. It seemed like every time she fixed or smoothed over one problem, another weed would pop up, which meant extra work.
Olivia was hoping for some kind of relief, because the optics were becoming less favorable.
