A/N: As promised, here is the second half of the last chapter. Don't get used to this speed. I don't usually write this fast, but I had most of this chapter written when I posted on Monday. I hope you enjoy!
Olivia heard the doorbell ring. "Shit, he's early," she cried. "That's Brian, tell him I'll be down in ten minutes," she called to Jake.
Jake begrudgingly rose from his chair and trudged forward to open the door. When he opened the door, he was surprised to find Fitz standing there instead of the driver. "Grant," was all he offered in greeting as he opened the door, allowing Fitz to enter their home.
"Ballard," Fitz replied, "thank you for being so understanding. I really appreciate you letting me borrow Olivia this weekend."
Jake huffed before snidely remarking, "It's not as if I was given any other option. If you touch her…I swear…"
Annoyed by Jake's attitude, Fitz decided to forego the higher road and to meet Jake on his level. Smiling brightly, he raised his hands in surrender, "It's not my fault the Ballard women find me irresistible."
"Asshole. You ruined my family. I have two little sisters."
"How was I supposed to know she was your mother? She was smoking hot. I knew she was older, but I thought she was in her mid-thirties not her late forties."
"You knew she was married, but you didn't care, you slept with her anyway," Jake whispered angrily.
"She was married, not me, and, she approached me, I didn't pursue her. Sleeping with me was the symptom, not the cause. Whatever went wrong in her marriage happened long before that night. I'm not responsible for what happened to your family. You're the little bitch baby that told your father. You and your righteous attitude ruined your family, not me," Fitz spit back in a hushed tone. "Why are we whispering?" Fitz asked, but before Jake could respond, he added, "Olivia doesn't know, does she? Of course not, Olivia's not the kind of woman to throw something like that in your face. It must have killed you when she accepted the job at Grant Enterprises."
"Did you know she was my wife when you hired her?"
"I didn't hire her. She was hired to work in the assistants' pool. I didn't hear about her until she had been with the company for months. I'll admit, when I heard the new assistant everyone was talking about was named Ballard, I was curious. I thought it was one of your sisters, imagine my surprise when it was her."
"Damn it Grant! I knew this was a bad idea. Stay away from her," he growled. "You had your opportunity. She picked me."
"Picked you? What are you talking about? I saw her that night. Come on, she's model gorgeous, the entire table noticed her that night, but I never approached her. She doesn't even remember me. Why should she? I was just another face in a sea of faces." Fitz paused and gestured toward the walls, "Given the choice, do you really think she would have picked this life?" Fitz could tell his words were having the desired impact and it took all of his willpower not to laugh in Jake's face.
"Fuck you Grant. Not every woman falls for your pretty, rich boy charm."
"It worked on your mother," Fitz replied, with a Cheshire grin, thoroughly enjoying goading Jake. "Isn't that what you're really worried about? That Olivia is just as disenchanted with her marriage as your mother was with hers. Don't worry, she's safe with me."
Fitz knew that his last comment had pushed Jake too far when he noticed his hands were balled into fists by his side. He wondered if Jake was stupid enough to swing at him with Olivia upstairs. He groaned in disappointment when he heard Olivia's light footsteps descending the stairs.
"Everything ok?" Olivia asked when she entered the room, eyeing both men suspiciously, as she took her place at Jake's side, wrapping her arm around his waist.
Fitz was momentarily speechless. Olivia looked stunning dressed simply in a white tank top tunic, leggings, and ballet flats, her bob styled in loose curls. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her. It was the first time he'd seen her dressed so casually and he knew that it was an image he'd never forgot. It was hard to believe, but he found this casual version Olivia to be even sexier than the perfectly polished version he was accustomed seeing at work.
Misinterpreting the intensity of Fitz's gaze, Oliva offered, "Don't worry, I'm not wearing this to the Merkles'. My dress is in the garment bag. I plan to change on the plane."
"You look gorgeous," he responded, his eyes flicking to Jake to gauge his reaction to the compliment. "Forget what Stacey said. You can wear that if you want."
"Don't be silly," she teased. "These are my traveling clothes," she explained, holding up the sweater she was carrying, "I get cold when I fly."
"You don't have to worry about that," he said, flashing her his lopsided grin. "My father loaned us his jet. He wanted us to be comfortable."
"Typical," Jake muttered under his breath, barely audibly.
"What babe?" Olivia asked.
Ignoring her question, Jake pulled Olivia into an embrace, engulfing her small body in his arms. Holding her tightly, his face nuzzled in the crook of her neck, he whined, "Are you sure you can't stay another ten minutes? It's a private flight," he begged, placing a series of small kisses along her jawline.
"If that's all the time you need," Fitz responded to Jake before directing his comments to Olivia, "I'll grab your bags and wait for you in the car."
"Fitz, wait," Olivia called, pushing away from Jake's embrace. "I'll walk out with you," she said turning to her husband.
Fitz smirked at Jake over Olivia's head. "Don't rush. I'll give the two of you some privacy to say a proper goodbye." Fitz headed toward her luggage but stopped suddenly and turned around. "Oh," he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a white envelope. "I almost forgot. This is for you," he said, handing Olivia the envelope.
"What's this?" Olivia opened the envelope and saw an official bank check made out to Olivia Pope Ballard. "Oh," she mumbled, obviously uncomfortable with the exchange of funds. "Thank you."
"No, thank you. Take all the time the two of you need. I'll be waiting in the car." With that, he gathered Olivia's bags and headed toward the door.
"Do you need a hand?" Jake offered.
"No, I'm more than just a pretty face," Fitz chuckled as he exited the brownstone.
When he was sure that Fitz was out of earshot, Jake asked, "What's in the envelope?"
"A check for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I should put this in the safe," she explained before rushing upstairs.
Once upstairs, she ran into the bedroom, closed the door, and sunk to the floor. Confident Jake hadn't followed her upstairs, she flung the check across the room. Now that money had actually exchanged hands she suddenly felt cheap and dirty. What the hell had she been thinking? She couldn't do this. "Fuck!" she screamed into her hands. Why did he have to give her that damn check? Things were going so well between them. Yesterday had been one of the best days of her life. Now, she felt like a whore, a very high-priced whore, but a whore nonetheless. Yes, he dressed her up, made sure she was perfectly groomed, and lavished attention and expensive gifts upon her, but, at the end of the day, she was just another object he purchased and used to suit his purposes.
She was going to be sick. She rushed to the bathroom and hovered over the toilet waiting for her stomach to void itself of its contents. As she stood there waiting, tears streaming down her face, she heard Fitz's voice in her head – pretending is what's real. Those four words played over and over in her head until she felt herself slowly calming down. Pretending is what's real – that was the only explanation for how Fitz could go from the warm, charming and attentive man that spent the last two days pampering her to the distant man who calmly handed her a check for a quarter of a million dollars and waited outside while she fucked her husband. Pretending is what's real – she could do this. She could pretend that her boss paying her an exorbitant amount of money to accompany him for the weekend didn't make her feel cheap and dirty. She could ignore the judgmental voices in her head and go back to being the person she was yesterday, the carefree, easy-going Olivia that could handle any challenge he presented. Yes, she could ignore, but she couldn't forget.
Olivia stood upright and stared at her puffy red face in the mirror. She could do this. She took a deep breath and splashed cool water on her face, washing away both her makeup and her tears. She took another cleansing breath and slowly and methodically started reapplying her makeup. When she was finished, she once again looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes and nose were still a little red, but she'd done everything she could to cover up any evidence of her meltdown. It wasn't perfect, but it should get her past Jake and Fitz. She took one final deep breath, to steady herself for what she was sure to face downstairs and in the car. You can do this. Pretending is what's real. Feeling as confident as she was going to get, she returned to the bedroom, collected the check from the floor, and put it in the safe in their bedroom closet. Ready to face the world, she opened the bedroom door and slowly descended the steps.
"Everything ok? You took a long time up there."
"Yeah, everything's fine. I just had a little trouble with the safe." Eager to change the topic, she asked, "Why did you want to hit Fitz?"
"I wasn't going to hit him. He was being an ass and I let him goad me, but I wasn't going to hit him." He pulled her close and looked down at her, lacing his fingers through her hair before pulling her in for a bruising kiss. "Don't go. Don't leave with him. Stay with me."
She cupped his face in her hands, pulling his face toward her, brushing her fingers across his smooth, freshly shaved cheeks. "I love you."
"I love you too." He traced a line with the back of her fingers down the side of her face, neck, and collarbone. He brushed a thumb across her nipple, causing the bud to stiffen, as he continued to trail a path down her side, his light touch making her squirm. "I'll miss you."
"I will call you every day. Twice a day," she promised. When he slipped his hand into the waistband of her leggings, she tensed in his arms. "We can't. He's waiting for me. There's not enough time."
"He said take as much time as we need. He can wait," he whispered against her lips. Jake pressed forward, sliding his fingers into her panties. He expected to find her hot, wet, and wanting but she wasn't. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm just nervous," she said, distracting him with a breathtaking kiss while she removed his hand from her panties.
"You'll be fine. Dealing with Grant will be the hardest part. I could help you relax," he said seductively, pulling her closer so she could feel his erection pressed against her stomach.
"I need to go," she said, pulling out of his embrace. "We'll be late."
"You could…" his voice trailed off as his eyes darted from her eyes to her lips to his erection.
Had the men in her life lost their minds? Had she? First, Fitz causally hands her a check as if this were an everyday transaction and now Jake expects her to drop to her knees and service him. "I would," she said, dropping her hand to this front of his pants, palming his cloth covered erection, "but it would ruin my makeup." She leaned in and kissed him, drawing back slowly afterward. "I really must go."
Jake reluctantly released her. "I love you and I trust you. When you get back maybe we can both take some time off work and go somewhere, just the two of us."
"Sounds good." She pecked him on the lips one final time and headed toward the door before she changed her mind.
When Olivia exited the house, she saw Brian leaning against a black Range Rover. Brian's face lit up in a huge smile when he saw her. "Good morning, Mrs. Ballard," he said, opening the rear passenger door for Olivia.
"It's good to see you again Brian. I'm sorry to keep you out here waiting in the heat so long," she replied as she entered the vehicle.
"It's no problem. Waiting is at least fifty percent of the job," he said, closing the door once she was settled. Brian quickly circled the vehicle and took his position behind the wheel. Within seconds, he steered the Range Rover away from the curb and headed in the direction of the private airport.
Fitz finished the email he was writing and turned to Olivia. He immediately noted her face was slightly puffy and her eyes and nose were tinted red. "Is everything ok? You look upset. Have you been crying?"
"I'm fine," she bristled. "Why did my husband want to hit you?"
"What?" he asked, worried that Jake had snitched.
"When I came downstairs, Jake was standing in front of you with his hands balled into fist. He was going to hit you. What did you do to make him want to hit you?"
He didn't know how much she knew, but he suspected not much, if anything, because she was obviously fishing for information. He knew if he answered her question, she would demand that he take her home and probably quit. He couldn't risk losing her for something he did a decade before she came into his life. "Did you ask your husband?"
"Yes, now stop deflecting and answer the question."
"I'm not deflecting. If you asked your husband, why are asking me? What did he say?"
"He didn't answer me. He tried to distract me with sex."
The thought of Jake touching her made him see red. Was she having sex with her husband while he waited in the car? Struggling to get himself together, he asked, "Did it work?"
"Yes and no." Fitz remained silent, waiting for her to continue. "I stopped asking questions, but we didn't have sex. Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"
"Only if you tell me why you've been crying. What happened in there? What did he do to you?"
"He didn't do anything to me."
"Then why were you crying? Who upset you?"
"You!"
"Me!? What did I do!? What happened between me and Ballard didn't have anything to do with you." Fitz paused, frozen in place as the realization of what upset her washed over him. "The check," he whispered softly. "Livvie, I'm sorry."
"Don't call me that," she snapped.
"Brian, pull over," he barked.
"Sir? Where?"
"Here, anywhere, I don't care, just stop driving." Brian pulled onto the shoulder and eased the car to a stop. Fitz turned to face Olivia, reaching for her hand. Olivia snatched her hand out of his reach and moved her body closer to the door, creating as much space between them as possible. "Liv, please," he begged. "I'm sorry. I never intended to hurt you and I hate myself for making you cry."
"What did you think would happen when you handed me that check?" she replied, her anger a poor attempt to mask the hurt.
Fitz fell silent for a moment, carefully considering his reply. In a quiet voice he said, "Exactly what happened, it's why I left after I gave it to you. I couldn't bear to stand there and watch the hurt creep across your face."
"So you knew it would hurt me and you did it anyway?"
"You think that was easy for me? You think I wanted to hurt you less than twenty-four hours after promising I would never allow anyone make you feel the way you feel right now? I know what you're thinking. I don't think you're a whore. I would never treat you like a whore."
"Says the man that just handed me a check for a quarter of a million dollars."
"The money was part of the deal I made with you and the deal you made with your husband. After yesterday, there was never going to be a good time for that exchange. If I could do it all over again, I would have given you the check Tuesday morning when you agreed to come with me and gotten that ugliness out of the way in the very beginning."
"What do you mean after yesterday? What exactly do you think happened yesterday?" she asked defensively.
"You dropped your guard a little and you let me see you, the real you. Not the bold, brash, and sassy Olivia you are at work, but the intelligent, compassionate, and funny woman that spent the day with me yesterday. You allowed yourself to be vulnerable with me. I know you've had your doubts about this weekend and all of the material changes I've insisted on haven't made things any easier, but yesterday it felt like you were starting to trust me."
"That's because you were trustworthy yesterday. Which one is the real Fitz? Are you really the asshole I just met or the man I spent the day with yesterday?"
Fitz slid closer to her, crowding her just enough to force her to pay attention to him. "Liv, I've never lied to you. You know exactly who I am and what I'm capable of doing. That's why you're so hurt now, because you never thought I was capable of doing this to you. You thought you were different, special, the one woman I would never betray, never treat this way. But, I think you're in this car right now because even though I hurt you, you're not sure that's who I am. It's not and you're right, you are different, special, and I would never try to buy you. I'm paying for your time and inconvenience. Somewhere in there, you know I'm telling the truth, because, if I wasn't, the Olivia Ballard I know would have torn up the check and told me to go fuck myself. But, you didn't, you're here, with me now so I think you want to believe me."
"How do you know I'm not here for the money?"
"Do you want Brian to take you home?"
"What?"
He used his index finger to gently lift her chin, forcing her to make eye contact with him. "Do you want Brian to take you home?" he repeated slowly. "I'm telling you now that you can keep the money and everything else and go home to your husband. We can pretend the last three days never happened."
Olivia was lost in a swirling sea of emotion. She was hurt and angry, but he was correct, she wanted to believe him. The Fitz she knew, the one she agreed to help, would never treat her the way she felt he treated her today. He looked genuinely miserable, worse that he did the morning after Mellie called off their engagement. Not ready to move forward, but unwilling to turn back, she replied, "You can't go alone. The Merkles are expecting you and your fiancée."
"That's my problem."
"What will you say?"
"I'll tell them the truth. That I'm an insensitive asshole. That I hurt you in a way that I promised no one ever would. That you were right not to come and that I deserved to spend the most important weekend of my life alone. That I'm devastated and truly hoping I haven't broken us forever because I can't imagine my life without you."
"I hate you," she whispered. "You can't treat me like some whore you ordered from an agency."
"I'm sorry. I was wrong. I promise I will never hurt you again. I never want to see you cry and know I'm the person that made you cry. I want to be your…" Olivia looked up at him, her face paralyzed with terror about what his next word would be. Fitz sensed Olivia's panic and quickly pivoted. "Friend. I want to be someone you can trust. So, Livvie, what's it going to be? Are you in this with me?"
Turning away from Fitz, she looked toward to driver's seat and said, "Brian…"
"Yes, Mrs. Ballard."
Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping that she was making the right decision. Slowly opening her eyes, she looked directly at Fitz and said, "Take us to the airport."
"As you wish, ma'am," he replied, starting the engine and carefully directing the vehicle back into traffic.
Relieved, Fitz slid back to his side of the vehicle, beaming with joy.
"Don't smile at me. You didn't win."
"I know, but I do enjoy losing to you," he said with a smirk.
They spent the rest of the twenty-minute journey to Kendall-Tamiami Executive Airport in silence, each one reflecting on what just transpired between them. When they arrived at the airport, they were directed to the company jet without delay. Olivia wasn't sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn't the 124 feet corporate jet with the Grant Enterprises name on the outside of the fuselage and company logo on the fin. Fitz extended his hand palm up, "Are you ready future Ms. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Third?"
"It is too late to change my mind?"
Fitz's head snapped toward Olivia in panic. He was relieved when he heard the delightful sound of her laughter and realized she was just teasing him. Olivia placed her hand in his. "I'm ready and it's going to be great."
"Come with me," he said, practically pulling her in the direction of the plane. "I'll give you the grand tour."
They entered the plane in the crew area and were greeted by the pilot and crew. Fitz spent a moment reviewing the flight plan with the pilot before excusing himself, explaining to the crew that he would personally get Olivia settled in. The interior of the plane was larger than a New York City apartment and was modernly decorated in a combination of creams, grays, silvers, and chrome. Olivia looked around in awe as he led her through a homely kitchen and into the master lounge. The lounge had a sofa with a small coffee table on one side and two captains chair facing each other, but separated by a small table, on the other side with a sixty-five inch curved television mounted to the wall. The next section of the plane was conference/dining area with seating for six. Beyond this was a second lounge area with another comfortable looking couch and another large screen television. They were only about two thirds of the way through the plane when Fitz ended the tour.
"What's through those doors?"
"What there?" he asked, pointing toward the door. "That's the master suite. There is a private bathroom with a separate lavatory and shower and a bedroom with a double bed and a sofa. Nothing to see in there unless I can convince you to join the mile high club with me," he said, flashing her a seductive grin.
"You're offer is so tempting…I'm going to have to say…" Fitz looked at her completely surprised. Was she really considering having sex with him? It couldn't really be that easy, could it? The thoughts running through Fitz's head were so loud Olivia couldn't ignore them. "No!" she exclaimed, doubling over in laugher. "You didn't really think a fancy jet was all you needed to convince me to sleep with you, did you? I turned down your offer to keep the money and run, but nothing's changed. This is a business trip, an unconventional one, but a business trip nonetheless. Sorry to disappoint you, but you will remain in the friend zone all weekend."
"I'll take the friend zone," he said eagerly.
Olivia turned on her heels and returned the front lounge. She selected the captain's chair facing the rear of the plane. Olivia watched as Fitz settled into the chair opposite her and followed suit, relaxing into her seat and looking absentmindedly out the window. She turned to look at Fitz and was startled to find his piercing blue eyes staring intently at her, his thin lips twisted in a curious smile. God, when he looked at her like that, as if she held the secrets to his universe, she could hardly breathe. "What are you thinking?" she asked. "No editing."
"What are the five things I should know about you as your fiancé that I don't know as your boss."
"Why? Do you think anyone will ask questions beyond the superficial how did you meet and how did he propose questions?" she asked, suddenly worried they had spent too much time flirting and not enough time studying yesterday.
"We'll get to those later, but for now I just want to get to know you, the woman I'm pretending to love for the next four days."
"I was born Olivia Carolyn Pope on…"
"January 31, 1983, you're an Aquarius, in Boston, Massachusetts. I know this stuff already. Tell me something I don't know."
"I was born in New York City at Presbyterian Hospital. My mother was a graduate student at Columbia. We didn't move to Boston until I was four."
"I stand corrected, but my point is the same. I'm not interested in this superficial biographical bullshit. Tell me something I wouldn't know if I looked you up on LinkedIn."
"What do you what want to know?"
"I don't know. That's the point of the question. Let's start simple, I'm going to the bar and you ask me to bring you a drink. What should I bring you?"
"The champagne you ordered at lunch was great. You can use your judgment."
"Why are you being so thick? I ordered champagne because that's easy. I haven't met a woman yet that doesn't enjoy quality champagne. But, that's not what you would have ordered for yourself. What would you have ordered?"
"Wine."
"You see that's not so hard. Red or white?"
"Red, preferably a Cabernet or a Malbec, that's what I drink in casual settings or at home on the couch. At a club, I'd ask you to bring me either a vodka or tequila cocktail. At a baseball game, and only at a baseball game, I'll drink a beer. It's part of the experience. At a cigar bar, I would drink bourbon. I told you. It's not an easy question to answer."
Fitz stopped listening after she said cigar bar, all he could focus on was an image of her full lips wrapped around the butt of a cigar. Fuck, was there a sexier image than that of a beautiful woman smoking a cigar? "You smoke?"
"Only the occasional cigar or joint. I've been known to mix the two at times," she said with a wink and a devilish smile. Fitz shifted slightly in his seat. Olivia knew exactly the affect her words were having on his body and she was enjoying his reaction. She was so used to him being in control that it was a novel experience to watch him lose a bit of that control. She wondered if he could fully submit to a woman or if his alpha prevented him from completely letting go. She shook her head to rid herself of the image of his beautiful face twisted in pleasure as he climaxed beneath her.
"Oh, and I know that you always drink a single malt scotch no matter the setting. Your preference is a twenty-five year old Laphroaig, but you'll settle for an eighteen if it's all you can get; followed by a twenty-five or eighteen year old Glenlivet; and finally, if you're desperate, you'll settle for Johnnie Walker Blue Label. I'm curious, what do you drink at a baseball game if you're not in a luxury box?" Fitz looked at her sheepishly. "You've never been to a game and not sat in a luxury box. Have you?"
"Don't judge me," he cried. "I'm not a huge sports fan. Most of the time if I'm at a game it's a business event. When we go to the Red Sox game, we will sit behind the dugout, I will wear a Red Sox hat, and we will drink beer. What's your favorite movie?"
"Easy…Ghost. I still cry every time I watch that movie."
"Ghost? With Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore? Where you even born when that movie came out?"
"My friends and I watched that movie every day the summer before fifth grade. They all had a crush on Sam, but I secretly thought Carl was cuter. Those curls, the beautiful blue eyes, that body, and a bad boy; he was a pre-teen girl's wet dream, except for that whole crazy killer thing. By the end of the summer were we all convinced that we would one day find and marry our Sam, a man that would love us so much that even death couldn't kill that love. What I wouldn't give to be young again and naïve to the realities of love."
"Jason is not your Sam?" he questioned.
"Jake is my Sam, but he's not Sam, no real man is. Sam and Mollie have a perfect fantasy relationship. They are deliriously in love up until the day he dies. Don't misunderstand, I love Jake and I know that he loves me, but no relationship can sustain that level of all consuming love forever. Eventually reality comes and brings with it the difficulty of sharing your life with another person. Love is hard work. The adult me knows that and sometimes wishes she didn't," Olivia said with a sigh. "You're turn, what's your favorite movie."
"A Few Good Men."
"Really? If I were picking a Tom Cruise movie, I would have guessed Top Gun. You seem more of a Maverick guy than a Kaffee guy, although both men were trying to live their fathers' dreams. I can see the appeal."
"Aren't you a little young to remember these movies?"
"I'm thirty-four, not twenty-five. I'm grown enough to handle your old ass. Now, can we stop talking about my age so you can tell me why you picked that movie?"
"I can recite every word in the famous scene with Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson. The script for that movie was so layered and rich. Aaron Sorkin is a genius. The tension in that last scene was palpable and the acting was impeccable. I can't believe Jack Nicholson didn't win an Oscar for that role. Unforgiven was good, and Gene Hackman was excellent, but Jack Nicholson was far better. He should have won that year."
"Do you really remember who won the Oscar that year?"
Fitz flashed Olivia his crooked grin. "I'm a bit of a movie buff. You should see the theater room in my condo. Once you watch a film there with me, you'll never want to go to a movie theater again. Oscar season is my March Madness and the Academy Awards are my Super Bowl."
"You do know you mixed your sports metaphors, right? March Madness is college basketball and the Super Bowl is professional football. Now, tell me who won best actor in 1992."
"Sir Anthony Hopkins. That's too easy. That year was the year of Silence of the Lambs, the film received seven Oscars, including all five of the most coveted awards. Challenge me!"
"Who won best picture in 1964?"
"My Fair Lady." Fitz chuckled to himself at the irony of Olivia picking that film. The movie was about a pompous jackass that accepts a bet that he could turn a working girl into someone who could pass for a cultured member of high society. Olivia was neither Eliza Doolittle nor Vivian Ward, but the task before her was the same. Could she convince the titans of his industry that she belonged?
"How do I know if you're right?"
"You can look it up on your phone, but, trust me, I'm right. I could do this all day, but I'd rather talk about you. I'm embarrassed to ask because you bring me coffee almost every morning, but how do you take your coffee?"
"I don't," she said with a smile. "I prefer tea."
"Okay. What's your favorite tea?"
"Masala chai." Fitz looked at her curiously. "It's a spiced black tea. I like mine with vanilla. But, I can drink most black or green teas. You like your coffee strong and black."
"Remind you of anyone you know?" he asked with a wink. "I'm starting to feel like a terrible boss and a terrible person. You know so much about me and I don't know nearly as much about you."
"Don't feel bad. You're an excellent boss, attentive, encouraging, and supportive. I know so much about you because I've been taking care of you for four years. You've only been taking care of me for four days. Do you know how long it took me to learn the difference between a Brooks Brothers and a Ralph Lauren suit? I had to check the labels in your suits for six months. Now, I can tell the difference from across a crowded room. You only have to get through the next four days and then we will resume our usual roles. You have two questions left. What else do you want to know?"
"What's your lingerie size?"
"You are incorrigible," she replied in exasperation. "I promise you won't need that information this weekend."
"What?" he asked laughing, his hands raised in the air. "This is something your fiancé would know."
"Not happening Grant," she playfully warned.
"Fine," he conceded. "What's your favorite flower?"
"Peonies, specifically pink peonies. As a little girl, my friends and I used to sneak into my mother's garden and cut her peonies to make our pretend wedding bouquets."
"Did your real wedding bouquet have pink peonies?"
"No," she wistfully replied. "Peonies bloom in the late spring and early summer. Jake and I were married in September. It's very expensive to get them out of season and it would have been too extravagant for our simple courthouse ceremony." Fitz wondered, but didn't ask, why Olivia would settle for a courthouse wedding in a city full of beaches and other romantic venues. What happened between her childhood and wedding day that changed her dreams? "One question left. What else do you want to know?"
"Tell me something very few people know about you."
"I was an emancipated minor at age sixteen," she stated flatly.
"What were you, some kind of Disney kid popstar?" he teased.
"I wish," she replied sadly. "My mother died from breast cancer when I was twelve years old and my father grieved himself to death four years later. So, I found myself at age sixteen the orphaned only child of two only children. Both of my parents were estranged from their families. For years we lived happily as this small, but perfect little family. They were the only two people to call me Livvie, until you did yesterday. My parents were ridiculously in love until the day they both died and they doted on me endlessly. They worked hard to make certain I wasn't disadvantaged or deprived of family or love by the decisions they made. And, I wasn't, until my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Suddenly, everything changed in our world changed. My father poured everything he had into fighting to keep my mother alive. When she died, he barely had enough left to take care of himself, there was nothing left for me," Olivia explained with tears glistening in her eyes.
"You were just a child," he whispered, trying to manage his own emotion. "Who took care of you?"
"I took care of myself," she replied, clearly on autopilot, recounting the events, but experiencing very little of the emotion. "Without my mother, my father didn't know how to be a parent. It wasn't that he stopped loving me, he just couldn't take care of me. He made sure the basics were covered. He paid the bills, made sure there was food in the house, and that I access to the things I needed. He kept me safe and, in honor of my mother's memory, he ensured that I prioritized my studies and excelled academically."
"A teenage girl needs more than that. She needs structure, support, guidance, and love. She needs someone to take care of her."
"I got that, just not the traditional way. When I was fourteen, my father and I decided it would be best for me to attend Cushing Academy. The school is about an hour from Boston, so it made sense for me to enroll as a boarding student rather than spend two hours each day commuting. When my father was still alive, he'd pick me up on Fridays and drop me back off on Sundays. It was a routine that worked for both of us. I received a world-class education and the structure I needed along with the love and support of my father. He didn't have to worry about taking care of me and I could focus on my studies."
"And after he died? Why didn't you get a foster family?"
"I was one of the lucky kids. My parents were smart. Once my mother was diagnosed, she and my father hired the best will and estate attorney in Boston. They made sure that I would be protected in the unlikely event that they both passed away before I was eighteen. I also had an incredible headmaster and she agreed to be my guardian after my parents died. I was still a regular student, but she looked out for me and checked in occasionally to make sure everything was going well. When I approached her about emancipation, she helped me find a good family attorney and, together, they helped me navigate the process. It actually wasn't that difficult. I was a mature kid, enrolled in school, lived on campus, and my parents' estate provided more than I needed. The judge agreed that, given my situation, emancipation was in my best interest. I grew to appreciate the independence."
Fitz sat quietly, struggling to reconcile the words that were coming out of Olivia's mouth with her rather stoic response. He understood the events she described happened almost twenty years ago and that she time had helped numb her to the wounds, but he mourned for the young girl who lost her childhood in the most tragic of ways. "No one can survive alone in this world."
"I was surrounded by people. I had my headmaster, teachers, and friends. I wasn't alone, I just didn't have a family."
"What about holidays and summers?"
"I spent my summers at the Oxford College Summer School. I studied business, leadership, international relations, and Italian boys. At the time, I thought I was going to be a lawyer." Olivia's face unexpectedly lit up in a smile. "Also, there was a housekeeper, Gwendolyn Nelson, we all called her Winnie. The week of Thanksgiving after my father died, she found me in my room sobbing hysterically. I don't think I've ever felt so alone in my life. Thanksgiving is the one American holiday that is all about family. Everyone was preparing to head home, but I didn't have a home to go. Winnie helped me calm me down and insisted that I join her and her family for the Thanksgiving break. She was a single mother of three kids and they didn't have much, but I was touched that she and her family were so willing to share what they had with me. After that, I spent most of the holidays with Winnie and her family."
"She sounds like an amazing woman. Do you still keep in touch?"
"We did for a while. She even flew to Miami and stood up for me when I married Jake. Eventually, life pulled us in different directions, but we still exchange Christmas cards every year."
Fitz looked at Olivia with sadness etched in his handsome face. He longed to hold her, comfort her, but she didn't seem to need either. Her eyes glistened with tears, but she didn't allow a single one to fall. He had his own experience with loss, but it was in no way comparable to what she just shared. He didn't know how she was sitting there completely composed. Understanding the question he was struggling with, she added, "It was a long time ago. Jake's my family now." Looking at her watch and noting the time, she said, "We'll be arriving soon. I better start the transformation."
"I asked the crew to put your garment cover and carryall in the master suite. Do you need me to have them bring you anything else?"
"Did you pick up the jewelry from Samuel this morning?"
"Thanks for reminding me," he said subconsciously looking at his blazer laying on the couch. He rose, walked to the front of the cabin, and retrieved an aluminum attaché case from where it was stowed. He handed it to her. "Everything you selected is in here. The combination is…"
"Zero six two four," she finished for him. "It's the same code you use for everything. Shouldn't take me more than twenty minutes to change," she said, heading for the rear of the plane.
"Liv?"
"Yes?" she replied, turning to face him.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For trusting me enough to share your story."
Olivia looked at him with a sadness he didn't fully understand. "You are the man I'm about to pretend to agree to marry. I couldn't have you tell a story of asking my father for permission for my hand in marriage." Without another word, she solemnly headed to the bedroom suite.
Fitz grabbed his blazer from the couch, reached into the breast pocket, and retrieved a small antique octagonal wooden box. He scowled at the memory of Jake's arrogance, claiming victory in the competition for Olivia that never existed. That interaction made him practically giddy at the idea of branding Olivia as his own. He released the tiny brass hook closure and revealed a cushion cut halo diamond engagement ring on a velvet ring bed. Fitz studied the ring's intricate design, which included a six-carat cushion cut diamond surrounded by twenty-four pave diamonds on a platinum infinity split shank band decorated with thirty-six additional pave diamonds. Fitz and Samuel had worked together for hours to hand select each one of the sixty-one jewels that adorned the ring. The final product was almost an exact replica of Fitz's sketch and was some of Samuel's best work. He thought it was perfection.
Exactly twenty-seven minutes later, Olivia emerged from the rear of the cabin. Fitz rose to his feet when he heard the door to the master suite open. He palmed the ring box and stuffed his fists in his pocket. As Olivia approached, his heart started racing, his palms began sweating, and he paced in small circles. Get it together Fitzgerald, he implored, willing himself to calm down. You weren't this nervous when you proposed to Mellie. You know she's going to say yes. She already yes three hours ago.
When Olivia finally made her way to the lounge, he found himself speechless once again. Olivia's outfit was sophisticated, yet understated, perfectly complementing her natural beauty. She was dressed in light blue Victoria Beckham sleeveless flounce-hem dress. The dress had a high, rounded neckline and stopped about four inches above her knee. She wore silver Giuseppe sandals with a thin leather strap at the toe, midfoot, and ankle, each decorated with small Swarovski Crystals. She accented her outfit with a simple string of pearls, matching pearl studs, and a Movado bangle watch. Her fingers were bare except for the bridal set on her left ring finger.
"That dress is amazing on you. I'm starting to believe you would look gorgeous in a potato sack."
"Thank you," she said earnestly. "I believe Stacey dresses me to bring out the blue in your eyes."
"You're almost perfect."
"Almost? What's wrong?" asked a panicked Olivia. "Should I have straightened my hair? You hate the sandals. Are they too much for the afternoon? Do you prefer the diamonds to the pearls? Did I chose the wrong watch? Don't just stand there and stare at me, tell me what I need to change," she pleaded.
Pulling the ring box from his pocket, he dropped to his knee, presented the ring to her, and asked, "Olivia Carolyn Pope, will you do me the honor of agreeing to be my fiancée for the next four days?"
Oliva's brown orbs stretched wide with shock as she looked at Fitz in stunned silence. Although her brain processed Fitz's words and understood his proposal was fake, the rest of her body refused to cooperate and she struggled to calm her racing heart and the butterflies swarming in her stomach. She wanted to say something, anything, but she had temporarily lost the ability to breathe or form words. The ring was exquisite, elegant, yet stunning, extraordinary with an antique feel.
It was Fitz's turn to panic. "You hate it. I told Samuel we needed to go with a bigger stone. He insisted that your fingers were too petite and that anything larger than six carats would look garish. I knew I shouldn't have listened to him, especially not after how he treated you. I'm sorry, I know you hate surprises and this is a terrible surprise. Please, don't pretend to like it. You don't have to wear it."
When she was finally able to breath, Olivia placed her index finger across Fitz's lips to silence his ramblings. "Fitz," she said, fighting back tears, "it's beautiful."
"It pales in comparison to the beauty of the woman that I hope will wear it."
Uncertain what to do next, Olivia removed the ring from the box and placed it in her right palm. "It's heavier than it looks."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, just an observation." Everything that had transpired between them over the past four days was starting to feel like a fairy tale, with her staring as the peasant girl and as Fitz the charming prince. Every gesture he made was so grand, so completely over the top that she was struggling to keep touch with her reality. She reminded herself that this was pretend and in four days her carriage would turn into a pumpkin.
Determined not to lose Oliva to her thoughts, he pressed forward. "Will you wear it? For me?" Olivia's lips pulled back and she gave a small nod of agreement. Fitz took her left hand in his and grasped her bridal set between his fingers. "May I?" Again, Olivia nodded and watched as Fitz gently removed Jake's rings and placed them in the wooden ring box. With his bright blue eyes locked onto her soft chocolate ones, he held out his hand for her to return the ring to him. With the most enchanting smile he'd ever witnessed, Olivia dropped the ring into his palm. Without taking his eyes off hers, he guided the new ring to its proper place. Olivia longed to wrap her arms around him and pull him into a deep and slow kiss, but she knew she couldn't. That would be crossing the boundary she'd set for the weekend, a boundary she needed to prevent her from falling headlong into the abyss that was Fitzgerald Grant.
Completely overwhelmed, Olivia took a mental and physical step back, escaping the uncomfortable emotion and intimacy swirling around the pair. Staring at the ring now adorning her finger, she asked, "Am I perfect now?"
Fitz rose from his kneeling position and sat on the couch, motioning for her to join him. "You're perfect," he replied. "So, we're in this together?"
"We're in this together," she replied leaning her head against his shoulder and locking her fingers with his.
A/N: Thank you for all of the comments. It's very interesting and encouraging for me to read how differently people are responding to the story. The next four days will be interesting as Fitz and Olivia slip further and further into this pretend world that they are inhabiting. As always, I love to hear what you thought, liked, and disliked.