A/N: I'm baaaaacccccckkkk! Sorry to leave you for so long. I had a severe case of writer's block. I had the beginning and end of this chapter, but no idea how to join the two. I'm still not confident about the winding path I took, but I decided to stop obsessing and post what I have. My thanks to those who left comments encouraging me not to abandon the story. I hope the chapter was worth the wait.
Olivia's eyes widened in amazement as the Merkles' Hamptons home came into view. The sixteen thousand square foot compound consisted of a three level main house with a putting green on the roof, cottage, pool house, custom swimming pool, spa, tennis court, and gardens. "This is their summer home?" she asked, the awe evident in her voice.
"Yes, their primary residence is a similar monstrosity outside of the city." Olivia fidgeted uncomfortably as she battled to maintain her composure and not give into her feelings of insecurity. Fitz reached over and placed his hand on top of hers, trying to calm her nerves. "It's OK to be impressed; the architect intended to wow you. The key is not to let the owners use its overwhelming presence to intimidate you."
"Easy for you to say. I bet you grew up in a house much like this."
"True, but I didn't have any say in the decisions my parents made. I live in a simple condo."
"Simple? Your simple condo is twice the size of my house."
"Touché. The important thing is for you stay relaxed. Jean Merkle and the other wives will challenge you, try to prove that you don't belong."
"I don't belong," she whispered.
"You do. Most of them joined the group the same way you are, on the arm of a rich and successful businessman. You are an intelligent and sophisticated woman, every bit their equal. Any man in there, including myself, would be proud to call you his wife. The only difference between you and them is that you are younger and more beautiful, facts that will rankle them greatly. Just be yourself and stick as close to the truth as possible. If you find yourself in trouble, find me either physically or with your eyes and I'll come rescue you."
The car stopped in the circular driveway, near the front door. Olivia took a deep breath summoning her confidence. "What if I ruin this for you?"
"You won't." Fitz raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it before releasing it. "Stop worrying. What is it you always say when I give you an impossible assignment?"
"Consider it handled," she said with a bright smile.
"Right. Now, let's go handle this weekend," he said, knocking on the window to indicate to the driver they were ready to exit the vehicle.
Walking hand in hand, they approached the door to the main house. Olivia stood on the porch, anxiously smoothing and re-smoothing her dress. Fitz brushed Olivia's hair out of her face and kissed her temple. "Ready?" he asked, draping his arm casually around her waist.
Olivia gave him a slight nod. "Ready."
Fitz rang the doorbell. After a moment, the large door opened and a young Hispanic woman dressed in a black housekeeping dress greeted them. The woman escorted the couple through the foyer, across a long hallway, and into a large living room, where Stephen and Jean Merkle were holding court with three other couples. Fitz immediately recognized Robert White from Zyscovich Architects, Lucas Brownley from BBL Construction Services, and James Austin from Austin Industries. Along with Fitz and Stephen Merkle, these men represented five of the top design-build firms on the east coast.
The housekeeper politely approached Stephen Merkle and said, "Another couple has arrived."
Stephen thanked the housekeeper and looked in the couple's direction. "Fitzgerald Grant. How are you my boy?" Stephen asked, extending his hand to Fitz for a hearty handshake.
Fitz shook off his annoyance at being called boy and replied, "Fitz, please. Fitzgerald was my grandfather. Not even my father wants to be called Fitzgerald."
"How is Big Gerry these days? I must admit I was rather surprised when he told me that his son would be representing Grant Enterprises this year. Is there any truth the rumors that he's retiring?"
"My father is well. He's still the heart and soul of Grant Enterprises, but he has handed most of the day-to-day operations over to Cyrus and myself." Olivia cleared her throat softly, reminding Fitz that she was still standing beside him. Fitz turned to Olivia, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Where are my manners? Stephen Merkle, I would like to introduce you to my fiancée, Olivia Pope."
Olivia extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Merkle. You have a lovely home."
"Thank you, but my wife Jean deserves most of the credit. Please, call me Stephen." Turning back to the group seated on the couches, in a slightly elevated voice, he called, "Jean, come meet young Fitzgerald and his fiancée."
Olivia watched as an older woman, regal in bearing, rose and glided in their direction. Jean Merkle oozed old money from her perfectly coiffed hair to the tips of her perfectly pedicured toes. Jean was everything Olivia feared she would be and she felt like a graceless duckling in her presence. Fitz stepped forward to meet her, extending his hand toward her. Eschewing his hand, Jean pulled him in for a polite embrace before kissing both cheeks. "Fitzgerald, it's lovely to see you again."
Fitz returned to his position by Olivia's side. "Jean, I would like you to meet my fiancée, Olivia Pope."
"It's a pleasure to meet you dear," Jean replied, offering Olivia a limp hand. "I must admit I was rather intrigued when I received the news that Fitzgerald would be attending with his fiancée. Given how long Anne has waited for this wedding, I expected to receive your engagement announcement weeks ago."
Olivia smiled through her urge to grimace. She was prepared for a cool reception, but didn't expect Jean to throw shade within ten seconds of meeting her. "I'm afraid that's my fault," Olivia explained. "I lost both of my parents when I was a teenager and I don't have any other relatives to formally announce my engagement. Big Gerry and Anne have been most gracious and patient while Fitz and I figure out how we want to announce and celebrate our nuptials."
"Can you blame me for wanting to keep her all to myself for a while before losing her to my mom and all the wedding planning?" Fitz said, pulling her close. "I'm sure, if given the opportunity, my mom would plan a five hundred person wedding extravaganza. We're just not sure that's right for us."
"I'm very sorry for your loss, dear," said Jean. "This must be a time of mixed emotions."
"It is," Olivia replied with a sad smile.
"Come," Jean instructed as she headed in the direction of the others, "let's introduce you to the other couples and get you two a drink."
After being introduced to and mingling with the other couples, Fitz and Olivia found themselves alone at the bar, waiting for their drinks. "You didn't have to do that," he whispered.
"Do what?
"Use your parents that way. I was going to offer another explanation."
"You said to stick as close to the truth as possible. I didn't have an engagement announcement because I didn't have family to announce my engagement. You're just lucky Mellie's parents didn't announce your real engagement. There's no way I could pass for Melody Carmichael."
"I don't think they liked me much. They never said anything, but they never really warmed to me either. They will probably be relieved to learn that Mellie called off the engagement."
"Fitz Grant," a booming voice called out above the low murmur of conversation. Olivia watched as a tall, blond man in his early forties, with striking blue eyes quickly crossed the room and pulled Fitz into a big bear hug. "I heard you were sitting at the adults table this weekend. Did Big Gerry finally cave and give you control of the company?"
Fitz laughed heartily. "We both know the only thing my father ever gave me was his name."
"And your trust fund," the man offered with a laugh.
"Yes, how dare I forget that? It's worth almost as much as his name. But, to answer your question, no, Big Gerry is still as in control as ever. Olivia and I are just standing in for my parents this weekend." Wrapping a possessive arm around Olivia's waist, he said, "Olivia Pope, I would like for you to meet Seth Merkle, Stephen and Jean's son and my college roommate. Seth, I'd like you to meet Olivia Pope, my fiancée."
Olivia held out her hand and he it took it, raising it to his lips. "I've been dying to meet the woman that finally convinced this scoundrel to settle down ever since mother told me he was attending with his fiancée," he said, continuing to hold her hand.
"I think you are misinformed," Olivia said, laughing. "I have no illusions about the man I've agreed to marry. I'm the one that had to be convinced," she said with a wink.
"This one has spunk. I like her."
"Yes, she does," Fitz offered with a laugh. "Now, would you like to return her hand?"
Olivia laughed and patted his chest with her newly freed hand. "Down boy," she teased, "must you be so alpha?"
"Take it easy on my friend. If you were my fiancée and Fitz was flirting with you, I would have responded the same way."
Olivia noticed the room had divided into several groups. The men were clustered in conversation on one side of the room; their wives were gathered on the opposite side engaged in a cheerful exchange; and Fitz, Olivia, and Seth were standing between the two.
Turning to Fitz, she said, "You should join Stephen and the other CEOs. I'll go make friends with their wives."
'Are you sure?" he asked, not comfortable with leaving her alone so soon.
"Relax, buddy. I'll escort her over there and introduce her to Tiffany and Amber, James' and Mark's second wives and the only women in that gaggle less than fifty years old." Fitz and Olivia snickered and Seth frowned. "I feel like I missed something."
"It's a long story for another day, but suffice it to say Tiffany or Amber is the reason why Olivia and I are here this weekend," Fitz said with a knowing smirk. "Will you be OK with Seth?" he asked Olivia.
"I'll be fine. I'm sure they won't be any worse than your mother. I'll find you if I need you."
Fitz feigned shock. "My mother adores you."
"She does now that I've agreed to make an honest man of you," she teased.
"Have I told you today how much I love you?"
Fitz's declaration caused Olivia to release a barely audible gasp. Now accustomed to Fitz's frequent compliments, she'd expected that sentence to end with how beautiful you are, not how much I love you. Quickly recovering, she cheekily replied, "Maybe once or twice, but it never hurts to hear it again."
Fitz dipped his mouth to hers, kissing her sweetly and said, "I love you." Olivia's palms dampened and her face flushed with heat. She knew they were pretending to be in love, but she never expected him to say the actual words. Why was her heart drumming so ridiculously hard? She silently studied Fitz's face for a clue as to where he was going with this act. There was a twinkle in his eyes and the hint of a smile at his lips. He was enjoying this, but she wasn't sure what part? Did he get off on making her squirm? Was there something more?
Before she could respond, Seth interjected, "I never thought I would see Fitzgerald Grant all misty-eyed about a woman. I thought you were a committed bachelor for life."
"I can't help it. I'm a man in love with an incredible woman."
"I don't even know how to respond to that. The only reasonable thing for me to do is abscond with Olivia before you completely destroy my dream of living a fulfilled life as a bachelor."
Fitz laughed, releasing Olivia from his embrace. "Keep an eye on this one," he said to Olivia as she moved away from him, "you wouldn't be the first of my girlfriends he's tried to steal."
"Are you ever going to let that go?" Turning to Olivia, Seth said, "Ignore him. It was twenty years ago and she wasn't his girlfriend. He never even took her on a proper date. You're perfectly safe with me."
Olivia smiled brightly at Fitz. "You go practice being a CEO and I'll go practice being a CEO's wife. I'll find you later." With that, they parted in pursuit of their respective groups.
Fitz watched Olivia as she and Seth approached the group of women. Her shoulders were tense and her smile was forced. Come on, Liv, he silently implored her. Relax. You can do this. All you have to do is be yourself and they will adore you the same way I do. Olivia felt his gaze upon her and willed herself to settle down. Her eyes found his and she gave him a quick wink and a smile, before turning her full attention to the trio before her.
Confident she was settling in, Fitz took a couple of quick strides in the direction of the men. "Fitz, there you are," Stephen called. "Did Big Gerry tell you to bring your clubs?"
"I never leave home without them."
"Excellent. I was just telling the others that I have a couple of tee times reserved for us at ten o'clock tomorrow at the East Hampton Golf Club. I'd like you to play in my foursome."
Fitz suppressed the urge to groan. A mid-morning tee time meant he would be away from Olivia for most of the day. He was looking forward to spending time with her, wearing little more than a bikini, at the beach. Reminding himself that this was a business trip, not a vacation, he replied, "I'd be honored to, but I must warn you, I'm a scratch golfer."
"You Miami guys are spoiled by the year round golf. I'm convinced that's the reason your father never relocated the company to New York. He didn't want to give up his standing tee time. What about you Fitz, do you plan to spend your time in Miami or will you make a push for the New York market?"
Fitz didn't hear Stephen's question because he was distracted by the lilt of Olivia's laughter, causing him to turn in her direction. He smiled when he noted she'd joined the group of older women surrounding Jean and appeared to be entertaining them, most likely at his expense, with a funny story. That's my girl.
Stephen followed Fitz's gaze. "She's a lovely girl."
"Excuse me?" Fitz asked, realizing that he hadn't heard a thing Stephen said after his invitation to play in his foursome.
"Olivia, she's a lovely girl. Do you think she's ready?"
"For what?"
"For life as an executive's wife. The two of you remind me of Jean and I when we were younger. We were so in love and thought that love would conquer everything. The truth is a successful marriage requires time and effort, son, and this life is incredibly stressful. The decisions you make impact the lives of the hundreds of people that work for you. You will be on call twenty-four hours per day, seven days a week. I can see it in your eyes, you are an ambitious young man. I predict the New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and DC markets will tempt you. This means either you will relocate your company headquarters and your family or you will spend most of your time traveling up and down the east coast. You will spend more time with your colleagues and assistant than you will with your wife and family."
Fitz knew Stephen was speaking the truth. There was a reason why Fitz had remained single all this time. Real relationships required sacrifice and he was unwilling to make those sacrifices. While he was dating Mellie, she frequently dropped hints about his travel schedule and the negative impact it had on their relationship. She complained bitterly that he was more attentive to Olivia than he was to her. At the time, he dismissed Mellie's complaints, assuming she was jealous of Olivia's youth and beauty. He'd known from the moment he met Olivia that she was special, now he wondered if she was the type of woman that made those sacrifices worthwhile.
"All of this will place a unique stress on your young wife. There's a reason why Mark and James are married to women young enough to be their daughters. It takes a special woman to put up with men like us. Jean is one of those women. Is Olivia?"
Fitz looked over at Olivia, catching her with her head thrown back in mid-laugh, and then back to Stephen. "Yes, sir. I believe Olivia is one of those women. I'm not an easy man to love and I brought a lot of baggage into our relationship, but Olivia is the kind of woman that makes you want to be a better person. She is my friend and my partner. Together we make a formidable team. She is the reason why I'm here today and she's the reason why I will be the next CEO of Grant Enterprises."
Stephen looked in the direction of the women and smiled warmly when his eyes landed on his wife. "Your father believes you have the potential to be great, to accomplish more than he and your grandfather combined. Please hear me when I say that none of what I've built would have been possible without Jean. If Olivia is the woman you say she is then I suggest you hold on to her tightly and never let go. In business, if you lose one deal, there will always be another deal to make. You will only get one chance with a woman like that. Screw that up and nothing else you accomplish in life will matter."
Before Fitz could respond, they were interrupted by the sound of a knife clinking against a glass. "Friends," announced Jean, before pausing, allowing the individuals to move quietly through the room reuniting with their partners. "Stephen and I are so pleased that you were able to join us this weekend. Some of you have been joining us for years and, for some, it's your maiden trip. For those of you joining us for the first time, welcome, we are honored to host you. To everyone else, welcome back, we hope everything will be as you remember."
"Stephen and I started coming to the Hamptons about forty years ago. During the first year, Stephen spent more of his time on the phone and working, than he did with me. The second year, I invited one of his colleagues and his wife and he spent a little less time on working. Each year we've added more colleagues and each year Stephen and the others relaxed a little more. I remain hopeful that one year we will get through the entire weekend without Stephen and his colleagues picking up a phone or a laptop, but I can tell from the way that many of your thumbs are twitching that this weekend won't be the weekend." The crowd responded with a polite laugh. "The staff are in the hall waiting to show you to your rooms. Dinner will be served at eight o'clock. I hope you will use this time to relax and unwind rather than check-in with the office."
As soon as Jean stopped talking, the staff entered the room, each seeking out a different couple. A petite Haitian woman approached Fitz and Olivia. "Mr. Grant? Ms. Pope?" the woman asked in a delightful French accent.
"Yes," the couple replied in unison.
"My name is Esmeralda. If not need anything this weekend, I am here to help. Mrs. Merkle has selected a guest room in the cottage for you. Please, follow me."
Fitz and Olivia quietly followed Esmeralda down the lengthy hallway toward the cottage. The closer they got to the room the larger the nervous butterflies fluttering around Olivia's stomach grew. Why did the idea of sharing a room with him make her feel nervous and fidgety? Was she worried that once they were behind closed doors he would pressure her into his bed or that being in such close proximity to him would only heighten her temptation to give into the desire that swirled around them?
Fitz walked slightly behind Olivia, studying her every move carefully. He could see her uncertainty, the nervous tension building in her small body. He reached out to comfort her, but, when he touched her shoulder, she flinched, further confirming her discomfort. He dropped his hand and she turned to look at him. He silently raised a questioning eyebrow. Olivia shook her head, dismissing his unspoken question, and turned away from him. Fitz fell farther back, hoping she would find solace in the space.
Esmeralda led them up the stairs past a kitchenette and bar, through a living space, and into a guest bedroom with an ensuite bathroom. "The butler unpacked your clothes and the bathroom is fully stocked. If you need anything else, there's an intercom by the bed."
"Thank you," Fitz and Olivia said in unison.
Fitz looked around the room. It was painted a soft warm gray, and furnished with a striking white four-poster queen-sized bed, decorated with porcelain blue linens. The room also contained two nightstands, a tall dresser, a white English arm loveseat, and light blue armchair. Fuck me, he thought unable to tear his eyes away from the bed. Was the universe conspiring against him this weekend? It was bad enough he had to spend three nights alone in this room with a beautiful woman he couldn't touch. Now he had to do so, with the image of Olivia naked on her back, spread-eagle, a limb tied to each of the four posts of the canopy while he feasted on her playing in a loop in his head.
Refocusing his attention on comforting Olivia, Fitz closed the door and turned to her. "Do you snore like a banshee?" he asked, trying to disarm her.
"What? No! Why?" she replied, surprised and confused by his question.
"Because you seem nervous about being in this room and the only reason I can think of is that you turn into a hideous monster while you sleep."
Olivia chuckled lightly. In a soft voice she added, "I've never shared a bed with a man other than my husband."
"And you won't start this weekend," Fitz interrupted. Olivia frowned and looked at the couch. Fitz followed her eyes. "You're my guest, you are not sleeping on the couch, Liv. You will take the bed."
"But, you're too tall to sleep on that small couch," she interrupted.
"I know. That's why I'm sleeping on the floor."
"You can't sleep on the floor for three nights. You won't be able to move by Saturday. I'm shorter. You take the bed and I'll take the couch."
"This isn't up for discussion. It's decided. You will take the bed and I'll sack out on the floor." Olivia usually chafed at someone, especially a man, telling her what to do, but there was something sexy about his decisive nature. He was clearly comfortable being in control and Olivia felt taken care of rather than controlled when he expressed the more dominant side of his personality.
Fitz observed Olivia as she began to move about the room, checking to see where the butler had placed things. She was more relaxed than she was when they entered the room, but not completely. There was still something bothering her. "The sleeping arrangements aren't the only thing you are worried about. Tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing. I'm being silly. Everything will be fine."
"Liv, talk to me," he implored. "Haven't I earned your trust by now? If you tell me what's wrong we can figure out a way to fix it. This charade won't work if we're not believable as a couple and we're not believable if you flinch when I touch you."
"That was one time and the only person around was Esmerelda."
Fitz sat on the couch and patted the space beside him, inviting her to sit with him.
Olivia huffed as she walked toward him and sat beside him. "We're not a real couple. I'm just trying to figure out how I can maintain my boundaries while we share this space."
"What are your boundaries?"
"Fitz..." she hissed.
"I'm not challenging you. I just want to ensure we are on the same page."
"I'm married."
"What does that mean to you?"
"I'm not cheating on my husband with you," she spat, leaping to her feet and walking away from him.
"I'm not asking you to, but I also want to know where your boundaries are. Different couple define cheating differently. I don't want to inadvertently make you uncomfortable because you have a more conservative definition than I do."
"I've never had to define cheating. I've never put myself in a situation where it was a concern. But, now..." her voice trailed off.
"Now, you're worried that I won't respect your boundaries. That I will put you in a situation that threatens to compromise your values and beliefs. Liv, we have worked together for years and never once have I done that. I'm not some lecherous old man waiting to take advantage of you in a moment of weakness."
Olivia sighed. "I told you I was being silly. You haven't given me any reason to doubt your intentions. Can we just forget we ever had this conversation?"
"You aren't being silly. It's an important conversation to have. So, Liv, are you going to answer my question?" he asked, flashing her his trademark lopsided grin.
"I guess I would define cheating as any act of intimacy that would lead to sexual intimacy."
"Whoa!" he exclaimed. "You're painting with a broad brush. Any act of intimacy? Any? I've touched you. I've held you. I've kissed you. Have you been uncomfortable this whole time?" he asked, clearly alarmed by her response.
Olivia erupted into a fit of giggles. She slowly made her way back to him and settled on couch. "You're adorable when you're scrambling." She gently placed her hand on top of his to calm him. "All of that happened in a room full of people. There's no risk of sexual intimacy when we are in public. You haven't done anything to make me uncomfortable and I am reassured by your reaction that you won't."
Fitz chuckled nervously, a little embarrassed by his overreaction. "I promise not to walk around in a towel and I'll remember to lock the bathroom door so you won't be tempted to jump me while I'm in the shower."
Olivia dramatically raised the back of her hand to her forehead. "It'll be a challenge, but somehow I'll find a way to resist you."
"I'm glad that's settled," he said, walking over the dresser where his laptop was stored. He picked it up and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To the living room. I thought I would answer some emails while I wait for you to get ready for dinner."
"Fitz," she replied a bit exasperated. "You don't have to leave the room every time I have to change. There's plenty of space in the bathroom for me to get ready. I'm not worried about sharing this space with you."
Fitz walked toward her. "You are and that's fine," he said, reaching out and stroking her cheek tenderly. "I'm not insulted. It's our first day. We're still getting to know each other. Now, let me go check in with Charlotte and Neil. I need to make sure everything hasn't going to hell in our absence."
Acquiescing to his wishes, she headed toward the closet to select a dress for dinner. "You'll let me know if there's anything I can do?"
"Of course," he said smiling at her warmly before exiting through the door.
Olivia emerged from the bedroom ninety minutes later wearing a white, form-fitting one shoulder dress that stopped just below her knees with a pair of nude pointy toe pumps. She accessorized her outfit with a pair of rose gold drop hoop earrings and a rose gold diamond bangle bracelet with overlapping bands that played a quiet melody whenever Olivia moved her wrist.
Fitz felt her presence as soon as she entered the room. It was as if she was surrounded by a magnetic energy, drawing him toward her whenever she was near. It was a feeling he never felt before, but one he was certain he would miss when the weekend ended. He looked up at her, a grin flashing across his face as he took in the woman standing before him. He wondered if you ever got used to a beauty like hers. If they spent every day of the rest of their lives together, would he she ever, even for a single day, be ordinary? "I was starting to worry about you."
"I decided to take a quick nap while you worked," she said sheepishly. "What did I miss?" she asked, moving to be seated next to him.
"Nothing much. Michael and Neil are getting along again. The project should hit its next milestone on time and on budget, which should make Cyrus and my father happy. Patrick and his team are working on the designs for the Patterson Place project."
"The Patterson Place project?" she asked, Jake's angry words ringing in her ears. "I didn't know you were involved with that. Nothing came across my desk related to the project," she said suspiciously.
"Patrick's team won the bid earlier this week. You were out of the office preparing for this trip, so Charlotte has been coordinating things for me. Patrick's team will handle the design phase, but we will need to partner with another company for the construction phase. Maybe I can convince Seth he wants to spend the winter in Miami working with me rather than freezing his ass off in the city.
"And Charlotte? How is she holding up?"
"Well, she's not as skilled as my assistant, but, considering my assistant decided to take the week off with no notice and no time for training, I think she's holding up fine."
"Well, that was incredibly inconsiderate of your assistant," she said cheekily.
"I'm sure Charlotte agrees, but, this week without her I've learned that she's irreplaceable, so I'll probably give her a raise and bonus when she returns."
"Sounds like she's a lucky woman."
"I'm the lucky one," he said with a Cheshire cat grin. "I should go get showered and changed for dinner," he said, rising from the couch.
"I'll wait out here," she said, more a question than the statement it sounded like.
"You can, if you prefer, but it's not necessary," he said, walking into the bedroom and leaving the door open, an unspoken invitation for her to join him.
Olivia remained frozen on the couch, uncertain how to proceed. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, despite the situation they found themselves in, she believed him when he said that he respected her and her boundaries. If she was honest with herself, she knew the reason she was hesitant to be alone in that room was she wasn't sure she could trust herself. Simply being around him made her feel alive, wanted, and desired. She wasn't sure she'd be able to resist him if he ever touched her, the way she feared she wanted him to.
Slowly she rose to her feet and approached to the door to their room. She looked around the space and found it was empty. She approached the door to the ensuite and leaned against it, listening to the sound of his shower. Cautiously, she reached out for the doorknob, turning it slowly, careful not to make a noise. It didn't budge, the door was locked. Olivia sighed, her chest releasing the breath she didn't know she was holding. He was doing as he promised, leaving her as the only threat to her marriage. Olivia quickly and quietly crossed the room, closed the door, and sat in the armchair.
Fitz found her in that same place fifteen minutes later when he entered the bedroom. He was wearing a blue oxford shirt, navy trousers, and camel, leather oxford shoes, his towel dried curls freshly styled with a little product. Olivia looked up from her phone, "You clean up well."
"I'll do in a pinch. Besides, no one will be looking at me as long as I'm standing beside you."
Olivia rose and stood beside him so they could look at their reflection in the mirror. "You have to admit, we make a handsome couple."
"You're doing most of the heavy lifting. I'm just window dressing."
"Now, who can't take a compliment?"
"Come on beautiful," he said, grasping her hand in his. "Let's go before we are late for dinner."
After dinner, Fitz and Oliva took a leisurely tour around the first floor before joining Stephen and Jean in the study who were joined by Robert White, James Austin, and their wives. Fitz immediately noted that Lucas Brownley and the other executives from the construction firms were not included. Based on conversations with his father, Fitz expected the attendees to be executives from design-focused firms, Stephen's collaborators. He was surprised to find that the attendees also included executives from construction-focused firms, Stephen's competitors. This weekend was not at all what Fitz expected and he was hoping to Stephen would reveal his true intentions over after-dinner drinks.
The four couples chatted amicably about topics ranging from business, current events, and upcoming vacation plans. Fitz and Olivia fell into a comfortable rhythm, easily bantering with the other couples, sometimes sharing true stories about their business adventures or making up adventures about their lives as a couple. It amazed Olivia how easy it was to be with to Fitz, how believable they both were as a couple. Fitz and Olivia listened intently as the other couples reminisced about their early days.
Eventually, the conversation turned to them when Jean asked, "So, how did you two young lovebirds meet?"
Olivia and Fitz looked at each other with mild panic in their eyes. They were so distracted by the events that unfolded earlier in the day that they never had a chance to settle on an answer to that question. Stalling, Fitz asked, "Do you want to do the honors or should I?"
Olivia smiled at him endearingly. "I think it's a better story from your perspective. Don't you agree? You should tell it."
Fitz chuckled at how adroitly Olivia avoided the situation, leaving it to him to make something up. He remembered his earlier instruction to Olivia to stick as close to the truth as possible and started to tell the story. "Well, I have Bob to thank for bringing this lovely woman into my life."
"Me?" Robert White asked with surprise. "I don't recall meeting Olivia before today."
"You have," Fitz said with a knowing smile, "you just don't remember. You came to Boston to recruit upcoming graduates from the GSD for your firm. You met with a larger group during the day, but invited a select group of us to dinner that night at The Capital Grille."
Bob replied, "I vaguely remember the dinner. I must have attended twenty or so of those over the years, but I am quite positive I never tried to recruit Olivia to my company. There aren't a lot of African-American women at these dinners. I'm sure I would have remembered her."
"She wasn't a student, well, at least not at Harvard, she was the server. When she approached the table, I was awed, as were the rest of my fellow classmates, and immediately enchanted by the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I didn't believe for a moment she was just a waitress. I assumed she had to be an actress or model, waiting tables until she caught her big break. Knowing my father as well as I'm sure you all do, I immediately suspected Big Gerry had something to do with her sudden appearance in my life. He wanted me to come work at Grant Enterprises, but I was determined to make my own name at another company, away from the heavy veil of his shadow. It wasn't unlike him to try to sabotage my interview with Zyscovich Architects by bribing the restaurant manager to assign their most attractive waitress to our table to distract me so I wouldn't get the job and would be forced to work for him.
"So…I made the worst decision of my life and focused all of my energy on trying to impress Bob and totally ignored Olivia. I was polite and courteous, of course, but didn't attempt to get her attention or win her affection. I didn't even pay attention when she introduced herself. After the dinner, I doubled back to the restaurant to find her, but I was told she had already left. I did eventually convince the hostess to tell me her name, but she would only give up her first name. There are more than four million people in the Greater Boston area, it was impossible for me to find the right Olivia, my Olivia. I ate at The Capital Grille every night for the next two weeks hoping to get another chance, but, alas, it wasn't meant to be."
"To add further insult to injury, I didn't get the job and, I later learned, that my classmate that got the job also got the girl. The only silver lining in this sad tale is that Olivia followed him to Miami, where we were reunited by happenstance nearly fifteen years later. I will never forgive myself for wasting so much time. After we started dating, I vowed that I would never again place professional advancement over family," Fitz said, reaching over to grab Olivia's hand. "I know exactly how lucky I am to have her in my life and I will never risk losing her again."
"Well," Jean said, clasping her hands. "I'm not one to believe in fate. I believe people are in control of their own destinies, but I have to admit the two of you being reunited by chance fifteen years after your initial encounter sounds like a bit of fate a work. It must feel like the two you are destined to be together."
Olivia looked at Fitz intently. He had some explaining to do. How did he know that story? She was confident she never told him and the only other person that knew the story was Jake. Trying to focus, Olivia grabbed his hand, gently stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. "I like to believe that fifteen years ago wasn't our time, that we weren't ready to be together then. We were both young, still finding our way. I was about to turn nineteen, only half way through my freshman year at Boston College. Fitz was six months away from graduating and we now know his future success was born out of the disappointment of not being able to start his career the way he wanted, as his own man rather than his father's son."
Bob turned to Stephen and asked, "After all these years he still doesn't know? Does he?"
"I don't know what?" Fitz asked.
Bob looked at him and replied, "You were never going to get the job at Zyscovich Architects, Merkle Industries or any other firm on the east coast." Fitz bristled at Bob's words, leaning forward and crossing his arms defensively. "Relax, Fitz, it wasn't because you were undeserving. You were the most talented architect in your class. Under different circumstances, all of us would have been in a bidding war to recruit you." Olivia watched as a wave of confusion washed across Fitz's face, soon followed by hurt and disappointment. She leaned against him, wrapping her arm around his waist, hoping her proximity would give him comfort.
"But you weren't just any stellar graduate from the GSD; you were Fitzgerald Grant, III, the assumed heir to Grant Enterprises. Big Gerry made it clear that he would spend the rest of his career underbidding every project we worked on if any of us dared to make you an offer. He would rather go bankrupt than have his son work for any firm other than his."
"I invited you to dinner as a courtesy because I believed you deserved to be included, but I knew at the onset there was nothing you could do to make hiring you worth the risk. Little did I know that Cupid was using me to introduce you to the woman you would eventually fall in love with and plan to marry. I may have hired someone else, but you were the big winner that night."
The group chatted for twenty additional minutes, the men mostly about their morning golf plans and handicaps while the women about their corresponding plans for a day of leisure and pampering at the spa, before Stephen announced that he and Jean were retiring to their room.
"Join me for a walk around the property?" Fitz asked, his eyes pleading for her cooperation.
"Of course," Olivia replied.
They walked in silence, allowing the sound of the ocean waves crashing into the shoreline and the feel of the salt air against their bare skin soothe away the tension from the evening. Olivia stepped forward, a gust of cool ocean wind causing her to shiver. Fitz stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing the front of his body against the back of hers. She leaned back into him, allowing him to support her weight. "Are you okay?"
Fitz leaned his chin down, resting it on the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her. "I don't know. It's not every day you learn that your father is a lying bastard that tried to sabotage your life."
"Did he?" she asked earnestly.
"Did he what?"
"Try to sabotage your life."
"What else would you call it? He knew I didn't want to work for him, that I wanted to make my own name in our field, but he couldn't stand the idea of not being in control. He actually threatened to bankrupt Bob and others if they offered me a job."
"I think he did you a favor."
"What?" he asked incredulously, spinning her around to face him.
"Think about it Fitz. You're about to become CEO of one of the top design-build firms on the east coast. You will be at least twenty years younger than the CEOs at the other top firms. Your father has groomed you from the first day at the company to one day take over for him. That day is now."
"My father is an ass," he said, acting like a petulant child.
"Maybe, but he has spent most of his adult life building Grant Enterprises so he could one day leave it to you. Your father is a young man. The same age as Bob and Stephen. He doesn't have to retire now. He could continue working for at least another decade. He's choosing to retire now to give you an advantage over your competition. It will be at least ten years before their executive leadership turns over. By that time, you will have established yourself as a leader in the field. Ten years from now no one will think of you as Big Gerry's son. You'll be Fitzgerald Grant, CEO and mastermind behind the rise of Grant Enterprises as a dominate force in the New York, Boston, and DC markets."
Fitz pulled Olivia into a smothering embrace. He rested his face against the top of her head, hiding the pained expression of longing from her view. "What did I do to deserve you?"
Olivia pulled away from his embrace and quickly retreated inside herself. Fitz, sensing that she was bothering by more than his words, stepped away from her and asked, "You seem to be getting along well with some of the wives, how much of that is real?"
"Tiffany and Amber are completely vapid, but I didn't expect much from women married to men more than thirty years older than they are. They are obviously trophy wives and the other women resent them for it. The other wives are polite, but they are slow to warm up to me. I'm trying, but I think they are rightfully suspicious of women under the age of forty. I like Jean, but it feels like she is auditioning me for a role, only I'm not sure what it is. If we weren't supposed to be engaged, I would suspect she was testing my suitability as a partner for Seth, but that doesn't make sense."
"Nothing about this weekend is making sense so far. My father told me that this weekend was Stephen's way of thanking his collaborators for a successful year and to strategize about upcoming projects and future opportunities, but that doesn't explain why Lucas and James are here. They are his competitors, why would they be included at his company's unofficial strategy and partner building weekend?"
"There must be something else. Did you talk to your father? Did he have any insight on the combination of collaborators and competitors?"
"I called him while you were in the bedroom, but he didn't answer. I'll try again when we get back to the room."
Fitz walked ahead, while Olivia lagged behind, lost in her thoughts. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?"
"Whatever it is that spooked you."
"I'm not spooked."
"Something's bothering you. You're doing a good job of hiding it, I don't think anyone else noticed, but I can tell. You're not the same quietly confident woman that sat beside me at dinner.
"I thought you and Jake weren't friends in graduate school," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"We weren't. The GSD has more than eight hundred students. Ballard and I were in some of the same classes and sometimes the same group, but we weren't friends. Why?"
"If you weren't friends, how did you know that story, the story of how Jake and I met?"
Fitz stopped walking and turned to face her. He used his index finger to gently tilt her face up, forcing her curious and doubtful eyes to meet with his sparkling orbs. "Every word of that story was true except one. We didn't meet by happenstance fifteen years later, it was eleven year later."
Olivia moved her head, breaking their connection before ambling away from Fitz. This revelation gave new context to everything she had been feeling for the past week. Had every emotion he provoked in her been intentional? If so, what was his motivation? Was he trying to make up for a lost opportunity or was this weekend the culmination of an eleven-year revenge plot against her husband? And, if it was the former, how would she get through the weekend without violating her promise to return to Jake unaffected by the weekend?
Discomforted by her silence, he spoke, "Liv, say something, do something, anything, please."
"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered.
"What difference would it have made? You're happily married to him, right?" he asked, unable to mask his jealously. "You didn't remember me. I obviously didn't make the same impression on you as you did on me. Telling you would have only complicated our relationship. I meant what I said, I know exactly how lucky I am to have you in my life. I wouldn't do anything to risk losing you."
Olivia closed her eyes and sighed. "Why tell me now?"
"Jean asked us how we met and we didn't have a script, so I just told the truth. Plus, the last four days have already complicated our relationship. I wanted you to know that I was being sincere. It was true then and it's true today, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and that's not even among your five best qualities."
Fitz longed to hold her, but he remained still. Olivia was like a skittish animal, it took time for her to build trust. He knew she was now questioning the trust he had worked hard all day to build. "What do you want from me?" she asked, her wild eyes darting around, looking for an escape.
Fitz ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Nothing. You are not the girl the guy gets at the end of the movie. You are not a fantasy. This weekend is not about what could have been. It's about what is. You're married and I'm your boss. This weekend is about us moving into the CEO suite after my father retires. Our engagement may be fake, but our partnership is real and we will fail this weekend if we don't start trusting each other."
Olivia visibly relaxed. "Did you really eat at The Capital Grille for two consecutive weeks?"
Fitz chuckled. "I did. I had every entrée on the menu, some of them twice. The food is excellent, not as good as J.C.'s, but excellent nonetheless." He paused for a moment. There was a question he wanted answered, but he was afraid of her reaction. Cautiously, he asked, "Where did you disappear to that night and why didn't you return to work?"
"I didn't disappear. I just asked Rebecca, the hostess, to tell anyone looking for me that I left."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because every guy at your table, including Bob, tried to hit on me and some of them weren't used to being told no."
"Not every guy," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Only because you couldn't find me," she teased. "Like I was saying," she continued. "That night was my last night at the restaurant. I was only working there to save up money for a Namibia safari, my Christmas gift to myself. The asshole trustee my parents left in charge of my trust funds wouldn't give me the money, so I got a job. My flight to Namibia left the next day. Waiting on your table was supposed to be a goodbye gift of sorts from my manager. The Harvard recruitment dinners were some of the most popular among the staff because the large parties and expense accounts generally meant big tips, especially for the female servers. That night was the best night I had in the four months I worked there. Bob is a very generous tipper."
It wasn't lost on Olivia that had she not asked Rebecca to lie for her, the life she was pretending to have could actually be hers. She pushed the thought from her head and chastised herself for being a silly romantic. Even if he found her that night, there was no reason to believe their fling would have ended any differently than any of his others. Fitzgerald Grant was an incredibly seductive and charming man, but he hadn't given her any reason to believe he was capable of long-term commitment and fidelity.
The universe was a cruel bitch, Fitz thought. Change one small thing here or there and his life would have been completely different. If the GSD recruitment dinner had been one day earlier, she would have been working when he came back the next night to find her. Maybe they would have talked, maybe he would have joined her in Namibia, maybe they would have fallen in love. If the GSD recruitment dinner had been one day later, they never would have met and he would have been blissfully unaware of the difficulty of having her in his life but not being able to have her.
"It's been a long day and I'm beat. I'm going to head up to the room. Will you give me fifteen minutes before joining me?"
"As you wish," Fitz said, watching her walk toward the main the house, afraid that she'd left their conversation more spooked than she was when they started it.
The next morning, Fitz was snatched out of his sleep when he heard a thud followed by a slew of profanities coming from Olivia's mouth.
Fitz lifted his head from his pillow, rubbed his eyes, and sleepily asked, "What time is it?"
"It's early. I'm sorry. I was trying not to wake you," she replied, hobbling around the room, trying to walk off the pain of her stubbed toe.
Realizing that Olivia was partially dressed, he asked, "Where are you going?"
"For a run. You can get in the bed if you want. I'm sure the floor is uncomfortable." Olivia moved towards the door.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
"What?" she asked, quickly checking that she had everything she needed.
"Your shirt," he stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Olivia frowned; she was wearing a peach Victoria Secret knockout sports bra, a gray pair of Athleta run shorts, and matching peach and gray Asics trainers. "Why would I need a shirt? It's a beach. I have bathing suits more revealing than what I'm wearing now. But," she said, quickly walking to the dresser and removing a gray jogger's jacket from one of the drawers, "you are correct, it's immodest to walk through another woman's house dressed like this when her husband's home." Olivia quickly slipped on the jacket and zipped it closed.
While she was putting on her jacket, Fitz noticed her bare left hand. "Where's your ring?"
"In the case with the rest of my jewelry. My fingers swell when I run. I'll put it back on when I return."
"Give me five minutes to change, brush my teeth, and stick my head under the faucet and I'll join you," he said, already moving from the floor to the dresser in search of his athletic wear.
"Fitz, really, you don't have to come. I'll be fine."
"No shirt and no ring…I'm definitely joining you," he said walking toward the bathroom.
"Don't tell me you're one of those Neanderthal men that believes his partner is his possession."
"Of course not," he said, pausing in the bathroom entrance. "You are free to come and go as you please, but if you are going to insist on leaving the house wearing that, I'm going to insist on accompanying you, if for no other reason than to enjoy the view."
Olivia playfully tossed his pillow at his head. "Hurry up. I want to watch the sunrise while we run." While Fitz was in the bathroom, Olivia took the opportunity to return the blankets and pillows he used the night before to the bed.
Fitz emerged from the bathroom and found Olivia facing away from him, arranging the blankets on the bed. He stood for a minute appreciating the view of her rounded buttocks and toned legs as she reached across the bed for something. Remembering that his running shorts would not provide much camouflage, he interrupted her, "You don't have to clean up behind me."
Startled, Olivia quickly twisted around to face him. His hair was damp and he was dressed in a Nike running tank and shorts that did little to hide the sculpted muscles that rippled in his chest, arms, and legs. Olivia swallowed hard and allowed her eyes to slowly travel the length of Fitz's body. She knew he worked out, but she had woefully underestimated the body that, heretofore, had been hidden by his clothes. He was Adonis personified.
Fitz's lips twisted into a beautifully wicked grin. "See something you like?" he flirted, his sparkling blue eyes making filthy promises she was sure he could keep.
"Not too bad for an old man," she quipped.
"Old man? I just turned forty in May."
"I know exactly how old you are," she said, placing more emphasis than needed on the word old. "Come on, we're going to miss the sunrise."
Fitz and Olivia quietly made their way out of their room, down the stairs to the cottage, and exited onto the grounds. They made their way over to the pool area and stopped in front of one of the sunbathers. Olivia quickly removed her jogging jacket and began to stretch. Fitz suspected the playful little minx was intentionally torturing him by twisting her taut little body in positions that made his dick twitch. Determined to make her as uncomfortable as she was making him, Fitz whipped off his shirt and ran a hand through his damp curls, the movement causing his abs to ripple.
When he looked down, she saw Olivia was staring at his chest and abs, subconsciously chewing on her bottom lip. God, he was gorgeous. His body all well-toned muscle concealed by flawless, tight, tanned skin covered by a thin layer curly brown hair. "What are you doing?" she stammered, "Why are you taking off your shirt?"
"It's a beach remember. You're not wearing a shirt, why should I? Now, are we going to stand here and stare at each other or are we going to run?"
Olivia sprinted in the direction of the path to the beach. "Hope you can keep up old man," she called over her shoulder.
Fitz raced in her direction, his long strides allowing him to catch up with her easily. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not old, I'm experienced? If you let me, I'm sure I could teach you a thing or two," he said with a wink, sprinting in front of her. Olivia quickly caught up to him and he slowed down, allowing her to set their pace. Olivia relaxed, settling into a leisurely pace, jogging just out of the reach of the lapping waves.
The two of them ran in comfortable silence, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the mostly empty beach as they watched the sun rise over the ocean. They enjoyed the sound of the crashing waves, the ocean's breeze, and the screeching seagulls as they dove into the water, searching for food. Occasionally, they would pass other couples and exchange a brief wave and polite greeting, but mostly it was just the two of them alone, surrounded by nature's beauty.
After jogging for about twenty minutes, Olivia's voice cut through the quiet, "We're about two miles in. Do you want to turn around?"
"I have another four miles in me if you want to keep going."
"Are you sure? I know you hate running."
"I do, but I'm enjoying being out here with you. I'm in no hurry to get back to the house. I don't know what's more beautiful you or the beach. "
"You are full of shit Grant, but I can see why women find you irresistible. I'm covered in sand and sweat and you pick this time to turn on the charm."
"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes."
"You've had some of Miami's most beautiful women in your bed. You'll have to forgive me if I don't swoon every time you pay me a compliment," Olivia lied. The truth was his frequent compliments were starting to wear down her defenses. Being around him made her feel confident, adored, and secure, emotions she hadn't experienced simultaneously since her mother died. She was starting to enjoy being with him far too much, but was losing her will to fight against these feelings.
"Maybe you should."
"Excuse me?"
"You just said it yourself, I've been with some of the most beautiful women in one's of America's sexiest cities. That should qualify me as an expert on beauty. Even stripped down and covered in sweat and sand, you are a very beautiful woman."
"I liked you better when you were silent," she teased, sprinting away from him.
Forty minutes later, Fitz was elated to see the Merkles' summer home in the distance. Olivia was jogging along easily, but Fitz's muscles were burning from exertion. He was so tempted by the sight of her barely covered body that he ignored how much he hated running, especially running on sand.
"First one to the house showers first," she cried as she dead sprinted past him toward the path from the beach to the house. Fitz groaned and took off after her. This woman was going to be the death of him. It only took 30 yards for Fitz to catch up to her. Determined, to beat her, he grabbed her waist and swung her around, intending to disorient her and deposit her behind him, ensuring an easy victory for himself. However, when spinning around, he noticed a figure standing on one of the main house balconies.
"I think we have an audience," he said, gently placing her on the ground.
"Who?"
"It's hard to tell from this distance, but I think it's Jean Merkle."
Kicking off her socks and shoes and running toward the water's edge, Olivia asked, "Do you want to give her a show?"
Fitz removed his socks and shoes and darted after her. "Usual rules, I'll follow you wherever you take me." Olivia was calf deep in the ocean when Fitz reached the water's edge. When she felt he was close enough, she playfully kicked in his direction, covering him with salty water. "So you want to play?" he asked, charging in her direction.
Predicting his movement, Olivia got a half-second jump on him and slipped out of his reach. He quickly caught up to her, easily lifting her small body in his arms and threatened to throw her in the water. "Fitz, stop," she cried through a fit of giggles. "You're all sweaty. Put me down."
"Oh, you're going down," he said, wading deeper into the water.
Sensing he was serious, she began to struggle in his arms, "Fitz, no, wait, I'm sorry" she pleaded. Fitz raised her body higher in the air, preparing to toss her in. "Wait," she cried, in mock distress, "my hair, you can't get it wet."
"Black women and their hair," he scoffed, lowering her to the ground.
"What do you know about black women and their hair?"
"I told you, I've dated women of all ethnicities. I know exactly how long it takes you to straighten your hair after it gets wet. It's quite a production," he said, turning to return to the shallow end. Olivia looked out to the horizon and noticed a large wave coming their way. Coordinating her movements perfectly, Olivia jumped on his back at the exact moment the wave crashed into his body, both collisions caused him to lose his footing, pulling them both into the warm, salty water.
Fitz jumped up sputtering, pulling Olivia up with him. "Now, what were you saying about black women and their hair?" she teased.
"Come here, you," he said pulling her toward him. Olivia jumped in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Without a second's hesitation, she pressed her lips against his. His body stiffened when she slid her tongue along the seam of his lips, begging for access to his mouth. Olivia hesitated, fearing she had led him somewhere he was unwilling to follow. Sensing her uncertainty, Fitz released a guttural moan, opening his mouth and granting her access. Gently she eased her tongue into his mouth, slowly exploring the warm, wet cavern before engaging his tongue in a sensual dance.
For two days, Fitz had been driven to distraction by thoughts of what it would be like to hold her like this, kiss her like this. Now that she was finally in his arms, her small body pressed flush against his, he was determined not to spook her. He fought his instinct dominate her mouth with his, opting instead to let her control the kiss, to let her lead him.
Olivia pulled away from him just long enough to catch her breath before recapturing his lips with hers. She buried her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, luxuriating in the feel of his wet curls between her fingers. Humming in satisfaction, she eagerly swallowing his moans of pleasure caused by the feeling of her nails gently grazing his scalp.
Olivia pressed her body against his, the feel of her restrained, but perfect breasts against his bare chest causing him to groan with satisfaction. His strong arms moved from around her to waist to underneath her thighs, his hands cupping her butt. She shivered in his arms when he began to knead her tight muscles, moaning as he pushed her tongue back with his own. Unable to take it any longer, he consumed her, pulling her impossibly close and taking her mouth in a series of sloppy, openmouthed kisses. He poured every ounce of frustration from the previous days into kissing her, his body communicating the feelings he was forbidden from acknowledging.
Caught up in his desire, he inadvertently lowered her body so that she could feel his erection pressed against her core. She quickly pulled away from him, her eyes wide with shock. Panting, he stared at her as he eased her legs down from his waist and placed her gently on the ground. "Shit, Liv, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…I wasn't trying to…" he stuttered, desperate to explain.
"I know," she said reassuringly. "I was just…surprised, by how responsive your body was."
Slightly embarrassed, he responded, "It's not usually. It's been four days."
"You say that like four days is a long time."
"For me, it is. I think I just got carried away in the moment. It won't happen again. I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. You weren't expecting me to kiss you like that. I think we both got a little carried away." Her eyes flicked in the direction of the main house. "It looks like Jean is back inside. We should head back and get cleaned up before breakfast," she said, walking back toward the beach.
"Liv," he called, grabbing her hand and turning her to face him. "Are we OK?"
"We're fine. These things happen," she said with a shrug. "We're both adults. We can handle this." She intertwined her fingers with his and pulled him closer to her. He released her hand and wrapped his arm possessively around her waist. They walked in silence back to the main house, both working overtime to ignore how real the pretending was starting to feel.
A/N: Well, well, well…Fitz's charm offensive is starting to wear down Olivia's walls. Will he breakthrough or will her defenses hold? What really happened that night in the restaurant? Did Fitz meet the love of his love or a conquest fifteen years in the making? What about Olivia? What if is the most dangerous question a person can ask herself. Does Fitz's revelation about a past encounter she doesn't remember make her question the decisions she's made? As always, I'm eager to read what your thoughts and what you liked and disliked.