Chapter 5
Olivia paces, swiftly moving in and out of each room. Her phone is hot in her hands from the hours she's talked on it. She's going back and forth with Tina about Michael. It's been 48 hours since the meeting at the restaurant. She barely ate the breakfast Fitz cooked. Fitz peeks from behind his newspaper, his eyes follow her every move. Her hands are in the air, flailing. The tone of her voice goes up and down and her lips quiver. He's been watching this charade all morning and frankly he's tired of it. He sighs, folds his newspaper in half, and places it on the couch. He walks over to Olivia, grabs the phone from her hand, "How much does he want?"
"Five million," Tina states.
"Are you fucking serious? Five million to keep quiet." Fitz quips, glances at Olivia.
She finally lets the tears that have welled in her eyes, fall down her cheek. He softly pads her cheeks with his thumb, wiping the tears away.
Fitz's voice is deep and demanding, "Tell him, if he wants the money he has to get it from me."
"Will do, Fitz." Tina states, hanging up.
Fitz clicks the phone off, hands it to Olivia. His face is beet red, nostrils flaring, "This ends now, Olivia. I'm tired of this shit with Michael." Their relationship has been a rollercoaster and he needs some stability. He quickly moves from the living room to the bedroom of his apartment. They made the decision to stay at Fitz's apartment until they make the announcement. She is on his heels, following him inside the closet. Olivia sits on the ottoman placed in the middle of the closet. She crosses her legs and leans forward on her elbows, "Fitz, I can't let you do this."
He yanks a shirt down off the hanger, slipping it over his body, quickly buttoning it up. "You're not letting me do anything, Liv. I'm doing this because I want to…I have to. We need to move past Michael in order for our relationship to work."
He is fully dressed in a navy-blue suit. Her favorite one. She stands in front of him, gently flips the collar down on his shirt. His eyes are everywhere but on her. She blinks several times, trying to catch his attention, "Look at me." He tilts his head down, his eyes are caught by the sadness of her brown doe eyes. Her lips brush with his, calming his mood. He lets out a few shallow breaths and whispers, "I love you so much."
Olivia rests her head on his shoulder, "I love you too."
He kisses her forehead, "I want Michael to know I mean business. This is the last time we're dealing with him." His dress shoes pound heavily on the tiled floor as he leaves the bedroom and walks in the kitchen.
"I can call my father, Fitz. Michael is scared of him." Olivia states.
He pauses at the kitchen counter, and glances toward Olivia, "We've had this conversation. Don't! I can take care of you."
He dials a number on his phone, "Greg, I need to move some money into an account."
"How much?" Greg asks.
"Five million," Fitz responds.
Greg chuckles, "Are you being kidnapped?"
"No, just do it. Have it available in an hour." Fitz demands, hanging up the phone. He slips the phone in his pocket and grabs his keys off the hook next to the door.
"Fitz…wait, I have the money secured in an account. Just give me a second to get dressed and call Tina back." Olivia states, swiftly walking.
"You're not coming with me." He responds.
She hesitates, "What?"
"I'm doing this alone," he answers.
Olivia crosses in front of him, places her hands on his chest. "No, you're not. I brought this baggage into the relationship. I'll handle it with you."
"Olivia, stay here." He demands, walking to the door, opening it, and slamming it shut.
X
Fitz arrives at Tina's office and steps off the elevator. "I'm here, Liv. I have to go." He states ending his call with Olivia. Tina pushes her hands in front of him, halts his movements. "Michael is drunk! He reeks of alcohol. Don't go in there."
"Where's your security?" Fitz asks.
Tina picks up the phone in her office and calls for security. Fitz waits outside the conference room until security arrives before entering.
Michael lifts his head from the conference room table, glares at Fitz and slurs, "Why the fuck are you here?"
"I'm sure Tina told you, I have the money you requested." Fitz states.
Michael turns the black leather chair toward the window, ignoring Fitz, "Where's Olivia?"
"She's not coming." Fitz answers, throwing an envelope on the table, "The check is inside."
Michael spins the chair toward the table, opens the envelope, his eyes grow big at the amount. He chuckles, ripping the check into small pieces, letting it fall on the table like confetti. "Call Olivia and have her come here. I'm not accepting shit from you."
Fitz doesn't think, his mind is on beating the shit out of Michael. His legs move before his brain can keep him still. He fists the top of Michael's shirt, lifting him from the black leather seat, "You're a fucking disgrace. I don't know what Olivia saw in you."
Security rounds the table, pulling Fitz's hands off of Michael, "Mr. Grant, you should leave." Fitz bangs on the conference room table, wishing it was Michael's face. Michael chuckles loudly. It echoes throughout the conference room. "Fuck!" He yells, slamming the door. He doesn't want to call Olivia. He was supposed to handle it. He stands with his back against the wall, phone in his hand contemplating his next move. He looks for her name, pressing call on the phone.
"Fitz," she answers in a soft tone.
"Michael is a fucking asshole, Olivia. He ripped the check. He wants to see you." He blurts out.
"Ok, I'm on my way," she states.
"Shit!" Fitz curses, throwing his phone against the wall. He watches it bounce off the wall to the ground.
Tina peeks her head out of her office door, "Mr. Grant, would you like some water?"
"Please," Fitz states, picking up his phone, walking into her office.
"He's a piece of work…right?" Tina asks.
Fitz groans not wanting to talk, "Yes!"
"I never understood their relationship. He must have some dirt on Liv because I would have left him a long time ago." Tina states.
He takes the cup of water from Tina and walks toward the window, staring down at the street. He contemplates calling Nathaniel and having him deal with Michael. He remembers Olivia's words that Michael is afraid of Nathaniel. He shakes the thought out of his mind. He would look like a coward. The elevator dings and he darts his eyes to the sliding doors. It's Olivia. She glides into Tina's office, notices the anger in Fitz's eyes. She drops her purse on the desk and rushes to him. She caresses his cheeks, inhaling his scent, softly pecking his lips. "I'm sorry, Liv. I've failed you." He whispers against her lips. She shakes her head, "No, this is not on you." The tension in his body fades and his muscles relax from the softness of her touch. "Where is Michael?" She asks.
"In the conference room." Tina answers.
Fitz grabs her hand before she can move, "He's drunk, Liv."
"I've dealt with him like this before." Olivia responds.
"I don't want you in there with him." Fitz demands.
"I'll be fine." Olivia states.
She walks in the conference room, drops her black Prada purse, making a thud sound on the large brown oak table. Michael is slumped over in the chair, resting his head on the table. She pours a glass of water and pushes the small red cup to him. "Here…drink it." His head lifts at the sound of Olivia's voice. His eyes are blood shot and weary. She pushes the black leather chair back from the table, plops on top of the table, and dangles her feet. He stares up into her brown doe orbs, apologizing with his eyes. She turns away, not wanting to lose herself and become emotional. Michael takes several sips of the water from the cup.
"I'm not giving you the money, Michael." Olivia blurts out.
He sits up firmly in the chair, removes the cup from his lips and places it back on the table. "I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't need the money, Liv. You know I need the money."
"I've worked hard for my money, Michael. I'm not giving you a dime. Fuck you!" She seethes.
Michael laughs at her boldness, "Write the check, Olivia. I know things about you that will tarnish your good girl image."
She brings up the one thing that will hurt him to his core. She feels nauseous at the thought of it. She inches toward him, "I'll leak the story about Yvette and the accident."
"That was a mistake and you know it." He declares.
"You're a drunk Michael. You were drinking and driving with your pregnant mistress in my car. You almost killed her and the baby. I was a fool to cover it up for you. I…AM…DONE! She's your responsibility." Olivia yells.
"If I don't keep paying Yvette, she will go to the cops, and tell them about the accident, Liv. She will take my daughter away from me." He states.
She feels sick to her stomach at his words. She knows it's about to happen and she rushes to the garbage can, kneels over it. She dry heaves several times, gripping her stomach.
"Shit, Liv." Michael says, stumbling to her.
She puts her arm out, shielding him from touching her, "Leave me alone Michael. I'm like this because of you! When was the last time you saw her? You promised me you would never see her or that baby."
He kneels next to her, his voice low, pleading. "It was after you left me at the restaurant. I was so broken, Liv. You made it very clear you didn't want me back. I needed to talk to someone. I know I fucked up. I've apologized a thousand times. I just need your help this one last time… please."
She gathers herself, lifting to her feet. "I'm done with you...for good. You can't keep me from loving Fitz and telling the world how I feel about him." She grips the handle on the door, trying to compose herself. She opens the door. Fitz's deep blue eyes are piercing through her. She takes a few steps before falling into his arms. "Please hold me." He embraces her tightly, "I got you, Livvie," he states, padding his fingers in circles on her back.
Tina motions for the security team to enter the conference room and escort Michael out of the building. Michael staggers out, stumbling to the elevator. "There's some things you don't know about your girlfriend, Fitzgerald." Michael slurs, entering the elevator. Olivia grips her arms tighter around Fitz. She doesn't look at Michael. She hears the elevator doors close. She exhales with a deep sigh, "Is he gone?"
"Yes." Fitz states, lifting her chin. "Tell me what happened in there."
"Another time, I will. I can't talk about it right now." Olivia answers. "Where's Tina?" She pulls back from Fitz's embrace, smooths out her jacket, and interlocks her hand with his. They walk inside Tina's office.
"Can we move the interview up?" Olivia asks.
Lindsey stands making her presence known. "I've contacted Robin Roberts and she can do the interview tomorrow."
"Michael didn't take the money?" Tina interrupts.
"I didn't offer it to him." Olivia states.
"I'm glad, Liv. He doesn't deserve it!" Tina chimes.
"Is he still blackmailing you or not?" Lindsey interjects.
Olivia shifts uncomfortably, "Lindsey…Michael and I have a past. I don't want to discuss it right now."
Tina walks over to Olivia, gently places her hand on her shoulder, "Do you want me to call Robin back?"
Olivia turns to Fitz, "What do you want to do?"
"Let's do the interview." He answers.
X
Olivia wakes with her stomach swirling and a pounding headache. She swings the covers back and rushes to the bathroom. Her stomach is in knots and before she can lift the toilet seat up, the contents in her stomach, violently pour out of her mouth. Fitz pushes the door open, peers over her, holding her hair back. He lazily rubs her back through her white night gown. "What's going on, Liv."
"Just nervous," she admits shyly.
Fitz grabs a wash cloth, holding it under the warm water from the sink. He helps Olivia stand and gently wipes her mouth, "We can call off the interview, if you want."
"No! I'm fine." She answers.
Fitz lifts her chin, "You're not fine, Olivia."
"Can you make me a cup of tea, please?" She asks, trying to change the subject. Fitz walks in the kitchen turning on the kettle. He patiently waits at the kitchen counter until he hears the whistling sound. He returns to the bedroom and places the mug on the dresser before heading inside the closet.
Olivia opens the medicine cabinet, twists the top on the bottle of Tylenol, popping two in her mouth. She fills a cup with water and guzzles it down. She holds onto the sink as another wave of nausea surges through her stomach. She glances in the mirror, whispering. "Get it together, Liv." The symptoms her anxiety causes is nothing new. She has found ways to manage it. She meditates, listens to music, reading, and deep breathing. A lot of deep breathing. This time seems different. Her deep breathing is not helping. The nausea in her stomach lingers and she takes a few deep breaths in and out. Fitz walks back in the bathroom fully dressed in a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt.
"Liv," he states.
"Hmm," she smiles, not wanting Fitz to worry.
"We can make the announcement in a magazine article and cancel the interview for today?" He persists.
"I'm ok." Olivia answers.
Fitz sighs.
She manages to put on a pair of black yoga pants and a colorful t-shirt. She sits on the edge of the bed, holding her stomach. "Can you pass me the tea, please."
He reaches over on the dresser, cradles the mug in his hand, offering it to Olivia. "When the interview is over, I want us to go away." Fitz states.
"Fitz...I" Olivia stammers.
His voice deepens, "Don't fight me on this Olivia. You need it...I damn sure need it."
She nods her head in agreement. The limo arrives promptly at 4:00am. Olivia yawns as she steps inside. She leans her head on Fitz's shoulder the moment he sits down. She doesn't feel the limo stop when they arrive at the studio. "Liv," she hears a faint whisper from Fitz. Her eyes flutter open, "Are we here?" She asks.
"Yes. How are you feeling?" He asks.
"A little bit better." Olivia responds, stepping out the limo.
They walk inside the entrance of the DXL Studio. She requests they share a dressing room as a precaution in case her anxiety starts to act up again. Cindy preps Olivia's hair in rollers. James saunters in the room hanging up her outfit. Reese cleans off Olivia's face with wipes and adds a light moisturizer. The room is silent except for the local news playing on the tv in the background. Olivia glances over at Fitz. He runs his hand through his curls making them messy and less styled. Just the way she likes them. He stands, kisses her on the cheek. "I'll leave you to your beauty regimen." Olivia smiles.
James closes the door behind Fitz. "What gives?" He asks.
Olivia shrugs. "He's worried about me."
"Why?" Reese asks, placing eyeshadow on the top of Olivia's eye lids.
"I threw up this morning." Olivia answers.
"Oh shit, Liv, are you pregnant?" Reese asks.
Olivia chuckles, "I'm not pregnant. It's my anxiety. Everything is happening so suddenly and not how I planned it."
"Is there a slim chance you could be pregnant?" Cindy asks.
"No. I wasn't able to get pregnant by Michael right away. What makes you think I can get pregnant this quickly by Fitz? Plus…I'm on the pill." Olivia answers.
James laughs loudly.
"What is so funny?" Olivia asks.
Reese chuckles, "Michael's sperm was probably just as drunk as him. I'm sure Fitzgerald Grant has super sperm that can penetrate anything."
"Oh, stop it." Olivia laughs.
Olivia feels another wave of nausea. She jumps off the chair and rushes to the bathroom. She ponders if it's her anxiety or something else. Is her glam squad, right? She shakes the thought out of her mind, returning to the dressing room, wiping her mouth with a tissue.
"Good thing I didn't put on your lipstick." Reese states.
"Anxiety my ass. You're pregnant Olivia Pope." James chuckles.
Olivia plops back in the chair, throwing her right hand up, "Finish my makeup. I need to get dressed."
X
Fitz fills a bowl with a mixture of fruit and pours coffee in a mug. He sits on the plush white couch, flipping through a couple of magazines on the table. He's in the green room waiting for instructions from the executive producer. He sighs. His mind drifts to Olivia. He's worried. He knows she doesn't like to be disturbed when she is getting ready for interviews. He takes several sips from his piping hot coffee, contemplating if he should leave the room and check on Olivia. He places the mug on the table, rises to his feet and walks to the door. The door opens.
"Fitzgerald Grant, how the hell are you?" Nathaniel asks, reaching out his hand to Fitz.
"Great! It so good to see you Nate." Fitz answers, firmly shaking his hand.
"I tried to see Olivia but her team dismissed me, so I'm here." Nathaniel states.
Fitz laughs. "Your daughter is serious about her glam squad."
Nathaniel walks over to the coffee urn, releasing the brown liquid into a mug, "How is Olivia?"
"She's ok. Has she spoken to you about her anxiety? It seems to be taking a toll on her lately." Fitz responds.
"Yes, I'm aware, Fitz. She took medication in the past for it, but hated the side effects. She refuses to go back on it." Nathaniel answers.
"Was her anxiety a factor before Michael? I never saw it when we were filming the movie." Fitz states.
"Olivia was an anxious child, but nothing to this magnitude. Michael put her through hell." Nathaniel states.
Fitz shakes his head, guzzling the rest of his coffee, "Why would she stay with him?"
"Love, I guess." Nathaniel answers.
"Did she tell you about Michael blackmailing her?" Fitz asks.
"She did. I'll take care of Michael." He states.
"I want you to know that I love Olivia very much and I won't disappoint you. She's in good hands." Fitz explains.
"I don't doubt you for a second, Fitzgerald. I know you love her and she loves you very much. Once this is over, I think her anxiety will subside. She will finally be happy. Which is all I want for Olivia." Nathaniel states.
Aaron, the executive producer walks in the green room, motioning for Fitz with his hands. "It's showtime."
"We'll catch up later, Fitzgerald." Nathaniel states.
Olivia meets Fitz in the hallway. Cindy brushes a strand of hair from Olivia's face. She symbols the 'ok' sign with her fingers. Olivia nods, grabbing Fitz's hand. "I'm going out first." She states, kissing his cheek, and rubbing her thumb over the lipstick imprint she just left. He leans against the wall and watches her walk down the hall, turning the corner, entering the stage.