A/N: Thanks for your comments and encouragement. I'm surprised to learn that this story is attracting new readers and thrilled that your response on Twitter and other platforms is bringing new, fellow Olitzers to the story. I can't expressed how humbled I am by all of you. I hope you enjoy!
Now, let's go greet our guests," he said, eagerly pulling her in the direction of the cottage stairs. Olivia slipped around Fitz and hurried past him, excited to find out who was waiting upstairs for her. Fitz shook his head and bounded up the stairs behind her, laughing at her actions. He wondered if she was always this playful or if their day together brought out her slighter side.
He caught up with her just as she crested the stairs, the commotion from their race up the stairs causing the three guests to direct their attention to the pair. Olivia frowned in confusion when she recognized one of the guests. "Stacey, what are you doing here?" she asked as she and Fitz made their way into the sitting area.
Stacey took one look at the two of them and indignantly replied, "What the hell are you wearing? Why are the two of you dressed like twins?"
Stacey was puzzled by Fitz's appearance. He had always resisted her attempts to style him and his dates in complementary ways. Yet, here he was with Olivia, in an outfit virtually identical to his, and he actually seemed happy about it. In fact, as she looked closer, she saw he was practically beaming. What the hell was going on here? Olivia had presented herself as a married woman going on a business retreat with her boss, but, standing in front of her now, they looked every bit a couple. Were they having an affair? If so, why the pretense? Fitz had proven he didn't care what Stacey thought about the current woman on his arm. Moreover, the only reason Stacey knew Olivia was married was because she was wearing a wedding band, a very different ring from the one she was wearing now, when she came to her studio. Whatever was going on, the pair seemed to be in sync and disgustingly happy about it.
Olivia looked at Fitz. "I told you she wouldn't approve of this outfit," she teased.
"Calm down, Stacey, there's a perfectly good explanation for everything," Fitz stated.
"There better be. I have a reputation to uphold. I wouldn't have signed off on the two of you making a public appearance dressed like that."
Fitz laughed at Stacey's over-the-top reaction. "First, I think Olivia looks sexy as hell. All I've wanted to do all day is rip what's left of those jeans off of her." Olivia's eyes immediately darted to his, trying to read if he was once again pretending or if there was any truth to his statement. His darkened blue eyes were intense, burning with desire, clearly communicating his need for her. Olivia quickly looked away, afraid if she held his gaze, he would see the same feelings reflected back in her eyes. "Second, we didn't make a public appearance. We went to a baseball game and to see family." Stacey squinted her eyes at him suspiciously. "We sat in the stands like regular people. No one paid us any attention; much less knew you were our stylist. Your reputation remains intact."
"Were you guys in the helicopter we heard landing a few moments ago?" asked a simpering gorgeous leggy, blonde, with large breasts and sparkling blue eyes. Olivia was able to control her outward expression, but couldn't escape the warmth flooding her body as her blood begin to boil with jealousy. This woman was exactly Fitz's type. Why did he invite these women to the Hamptons? Was five days of celibacy more than he could manage? If so, why was he looking at her with savage desire when his next conquest was sitting there waiting for him? What exactly about this surprise did he believe was supposed to please her?
Stacey caught Olivia glaring menacingly at the blonde-haired woman and immediately scrambled to explain. "Olivia and Fitz, these are my friends, Madison and Renée," she said, gesturing in the direction of the blonde and a cute, pixie-like brunette, respectively. "Madison is a hairstylist and Renée is a makeup artist. We are Olivia's official glam squad for the evening."
Olivia looked over her shoulder at a Fitz. "So much for being naturally flawless," she quipped, still a little chafed by Madison's presence.
Fitz closed the distance between him and Olivia, approaching her from behind. Sensing his presence, she possessively reached behind her and pulled him closer to her. It was only when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him that he noticed the tension in her small frame. "You know I think you are the most beautiful and enchanting woman in the world. They are just here to help you showcase that beauty," he explained, brushing her hair aside and trailing a path of light kisses up her neck to her jawline, headed for her lips.
Olivia relaxed a little, but not fully. "You spoil me," she said, shifting in his arms so he could kiss her properly, wrapping her arms around Fitz's neck and displaying her engagement ring to Stacey and her friends.
"That's the goal," he whispered against her lips.
While Madison and Stacey snickered with a tinge of envy at the couple's open display of affection, Renée had the opposite reaction. "Stacey, why didn't you tell us Fitz was engaged?" she asked, gushing about the couple. "Fitzgerald Grant is quite the catch - rich, handsome, charming. Olivia, you must be the luckiest woman in Miami. How did you manage to snag one of the city's most eligible bachelors? I would have expected everyone to be buzzing about this. How are you keeping this a secret?"
Fitz chuckled at the young woman's enthusiasm. "It's not a secret; we're just not ready to make a big, public announcement. Once you introduce your relationship to the public, the public is free to dissect every aspect of that relationship. I'm have my hands full keeping this woman happy," he said, kissing Olivia on the cheek and lightly tickling her side, making her giggle. "We're not ready to entertain everyone else's opinion about our relationship and upcoming wedding."
"Have you set a date?" Madison asked coolly.
"Not yet," Olivia bristled. "I'm still trying to get used to the idea of being engaged. I never expected agreeing to go to lunch with him would lead to this. Everything is moving so quickly, it feels like it's only been a couple of days."
"A couple of days, a couples of weeks, a couple of months, what difference does it make? When you've found the person you know you're supposed share the rest of your life with why would you waste any time not being with that person." Concerned that, despite his demonstrative fawning over her, Olivia was still uncomfortably stiff in his arms, he lowered his lips to her ear and said, "Stacey yes, the other two no."
"What?" she replied quietly with furrowed brows, confused by his statement.
Continuing to hold Olivia close, he addressed the three woman. "Please go ahead in our room and get set-up. I need to speak with Olivia privately for a moment." Stacey, Madison, and Renée rose from their seats and entered the bedroom, wheeling large cases containing the tools of their trades behind them.
Only when they were out of sight did Fitz release her, motioning for her to join him on the couch. When she was seated, Fitz grasped both of her hands and looked at her intently. "You were wondering if I slept with them. You know Stacey and I have a past, but I've never met the other two. I saw the way you looked at the blonde. You thought she was here for me. I would never disrespect you like that."
"She's a gorgeous blonde Barbie doll. It's been five days. I would understand...," she said softly, her voice trailing off as she struggled to reconcile what she was feeling against what she thought was the appropriate response. This weekend was pretend. It shouldn't matter who Fitz entertained or when, as long as he didn't compromise the business deal they were there to close. Nevertheless, the thought of him with Madison made her crazy. She was the antithesis of Olivia, and being around her brought all of her initial concerns and insecurities back to the surface. Why would Fitz play pretend with her when he could have the real thing with Madison?
"You're exquisite and she's just a tall blonde. Why would I waste a second of the time we have left together with her?"
Olivia shifted in her seat, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs. She hated how easily he read her and spoke to her feelings, even as she was actively trying to deny them. Why did he say these things to her? Didn't he know it only further blurred the lines between them, making things harder for both of them when they returned to Miami? Would he easily shed the role of her fiancé and go back his playboy ways? Would she be able to do the same or had this weekend with Fitz left an irreversible imprint? Needing space from him and her thoughts, she teased, "So you did notice she's kind of perfect for you?"
"I'm not blind," he said with a light chuckle. "I saw her. I'm just not interested. Honestly, she's exactly the type of woman that would have distracted me in the past. Things are different now. Thanks to you, I'm more focused than I've ever been. This weekend I have learned that I can't do this alone. I don't have time for or interest in pretending anymore. I want something real." Something with you, he thought.
Olivia looked at Fitz and saw the fire burning in the depths of his eyes. He was telling the truth and the enormity of that truth overwhelmed her. She moved to pull her hands away from his, but he grasped her tighter, careful not to hurt her, but preventing her from fleeing. "You don't have to run," he said. "I haven't forgotten our reality. All I'm asking is that you let me show you who I am. Let me, with a little help from your glam squad, take care of you tonight."
Olivia took a deep breath and cautiously nodded, squeezing his hand to reassure him that she wasn't running. When he released her hands, she placed them on either side on his face and pulled him towards her. "You are not alone. We're in this together, remember. I may not be able to be everything you want, but at least you're not alone," she said, dropping her hands from his face.
Fitz reflected on Olivia's statement. Was this willingness to settle for less than what she wanted in exchange for not being alone why she married Jake? He knew they met when she was eighteen. By then, she'd already been alone for two years, her only family the one she formed with Winnie and her kids. Did Jake convince her that he would be her new forever family, the one person that would never leave her? Is that how he penetrated her defenses? Fitz worried that he'd underestimated her commitment to her husband. It wasn't based solely on love, but forged by her longing for security and permanence. Leaving him would mean risking once again being alone. Did losing her parents at such a critical period in her development make that risk intolerable? Was there nothing he could do to show her she deserved better and that he could be that better?
Olivia remained still and quietly observed Fitz deep in thought. His brows were furrowed and his lips pursed in concentration. Whatever he was thinking about obviously displeased him. What did she say to trigger this reaction from him? She hoped she hadn't offended him or in any way appeared ungrateful for all that he did for her today. "Fitz," she said softly, pulling him out of his head and back to her. "Talk to me," she implored. "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing," he lied to avoid answering her question. "It's fine. I'm fine." Olivia looked at him suspiciously. He was being less than forthright and that only added to her anxiety, causing her to fidget uncomfortably. "Stop that," he snapped at her.
Fitz's sudden change in demeanor caused Olivia to withdraw physically from him, her expression reflecting her alarm and frostiness. When he registered Olivia's reaction, his eyes softened immediately and he reached out to her, resting his hand on her denim-clad thigh, relieved when she didn't reject his touch. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just frustrated," he said, angrily raking his free hand through his hair.
"By what?" she asked tentatively.
"By the way you're always twisting yourself in knots trying to figure out and be everything you think others expect you to be. Stop trying to be the dutiful wife, the diligent employee or anyone else someone you thinks you should be. Stop trying to do what other people want or be who they expect you to be and just be you. Whoever that is."
Fitz knew he wasn't being fair unloading on her like that. She showed up for him when he needed her most and had done everything he'd asked of her, pushing through her own discomfort and insecurities to do so. He knew she was walking a difficult line trying to be faithful to her husband and deliver the performance he needed from her to convince the Merkles he was a changed man. If anything, it was his actions and his desires that were twisting her in knots. He was the one that kept pushing her to give more and more of herself, to move past the pretend and into something real. He was the one asking her to be someone other than herself.
Fitz was going to apologize and retract his statement when Olivia finally spoke. "What if I don't know who that is?" she asked softly, privately terrified by his request.
Fitz didn't know how to respond. Was she suggesting that there might have been some truth to his accusation? Seizing the opportunity, with a Cheshire grin, he replied, "Well, we've got about forty hours before we return home for you to figure it out. I'm up for the challenge. Are you?"
Was he crazy? Did he really think in forty hours they could uncover the person she'd been denying for the past twenty years. Avoiding his proposition altogether, she replied, "We should get in there, my glam squad awaits."
"Is that what you want to do?" he asked with a devilish grin.
Wanting to lighten the mood and relieve some of the tension, she playfully responded, "What if I said I wanted to ditch the ball and fly to Paris?"
Fitz pulled her toward him and wrapped her in his arms so she was facing away from him. He nuzzled his face in her neck and then spoke against her ear. "Is that really what you want? Do you have your passport? My father's jet is at the airport. We could be in the air within the hour. We have to drop Stacey and her friends off in the city first, but we could be in Paris by breakfast."
Olivia turned to look at him partially in awe and partially in disbelief. "You have an answer for everything don't you?"
"No, but you haven't asked for anything I can't make happen. You're going to have to think bigger if you're looking for me to disappoint you. So, are we flying to Paris?" he asked seriously.
Grinning like a loon, Olivia responded, "No, we are not flying to Paris. I have a glam squad waiting for me and you have to shower and get in your tux. Let's go," she said rising from the couch and reaching back to pull him up after her. He laughed at her feeble attempts to move him from the couch, eventually relenting and joining her as they headed for the bedroom.
Turning serious, he grabbed her wrist so she would stop moving. After Olivia spun around to face him, he spoke. "One more thing. You never have to worry about whether or not I have a past with a woman I bring into our lives. I wouldn't put you in that situation."
"What situation?" she asked, struggling to keep up the twists and turns in their conversation.
"I would never put you in a room where another woman knows more about me than you do."
"You didn't tell me about Stacey."
"That was before."
"Before what?"
"Before you needed to know."
"And now? What's changed?"
"Everything. I want you to trust me. I don't ever want you to be ambushed by something someone says about me. I want you to hear the truth from my lips first."
"Anything I need to know before we go in there?"
Fitz quickly walked toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close. "I wouldn't have brought them here if there was. Today is all about you. You are my only priority and the only woman I want to be with."
Leaning down, he captured her lips with his own. He was delighted to find all traces of her earlier hesitation were gone as she surrendered to him without reservation. Fitz violated her mouth, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Olivia knew she should pull away from him, but her need to feel wanted by him made her powerless to deny him, greedily welcoming and succumbing to him. She tangled her fingers in his thick curls, tugging until he growled her name against her lips in pleasure.
She couldn't remember ever being this affected by a man while fully dressed. Every time he kissed her, touched her, she lost a little more of her will to resist him. He made her feel things she'd given up hope of ever feeling and the promise of him and everything that they could be was simultaneously exhilarating and frightening.
He continued kissing her while his hands traced along her back and down her side in long sweeps, every touch, every movement designed to make her feel desired. She yearned for, needed the contact of his body against hers. She slipped her hands under his jersey and ran them up his bare back, pulling him impossibly closer, enjoying how his muscles rippled and contracted under her touch. He was so strong, so powerful, yet his touch was gentle and restrained.
She arched her back, pressing her torso tight against his, her breasts aching at the contact. His lips dropped to her exposed neck and he quickly found the spot beneath her pulse point that made her purr. Her entire body pulsed with need and she shamelessly ground against his growing erection. He slid his leg between hers, so he could feel the heat from where he most desired to be pressed against his thigh. Desperate to get some friction, some release from the pressure building inside her, she rocked her hips, moaning softly from the combined pressure of the material and his muscular quadriceps against her clitoris.
His hands trailed down her back and traced along her wildly moving hips. One hand remained around her waist, holding her body against his, while the other slowly moved under her jersey, but over her tank, and blazed a path up the front of her torso resting just below her breast. He cupped one of her breasts in his palm, reveling in the feel of its size and weight in his hand. Everything about her was fucking perfect and he wanted nothing more than to spend the evening exposing, memorizing, and worshipping every inch of her. His lips once again found hers, their tongues dueling for dominance, as he raked the tip of his thumb across her stiff nipple, making her knees go weak and her moan into his mouth.
She was jolted back to reality when she felt his fingers move beneath the waistband of her jeans. Olivia pulled back from his kiss, causing his hands to slip from her pants and breast. She rested her head on his chest, smiling and panting to calm her racing heart. When she could speak, she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with need and explained, "We can't. You're focused, remember. The Merkles are expecting us in less than two hours. It would be rude for us to enjoy their incredible hospitality and not attend their party. Plus, there are people in our bedroom," she said giggling. "There's nowhere for us to go."
"Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice dripping with sex.
She smiled at him brightly, "It's what you need and right now your needs trump my wants." Before he could protest, she slipped from his arms and reached for the doorknob. She turned to him, her eyes darting to the impressive bulge in his pants, "Do you need a minute?" she asked.
"It's going to take longer that to calm him down," he said, adjusting his jersey to cover himself as much as possible.
"That's not going to work," she said laughing at him.
"It's all your fault. You and those damn jeans," he growled.
"You think the jeans are bad," she teased, "wait until you see my dress." With that said, she opened the door to their room, dragging him in behind her.
When Fitz and Olivia entered the bedroom, all eyes turned to them. The three women smiled knowingly, noting the couple's flushed skin and bee stung lips, evidence of their amorous activities. Stacey studied them closely. She'd known Fitz for years and had never seen him so much as kiss a women in public. He was a tiger behind a closed door, but in public, he was almost prudish. She always assumed he was intentionally cold and distant to remind the women he was with they were replaceable, disposable even. The closest he got to PDA was brief handholding or a casual arm around the waist or shoulder, just enough to signal possession to anyone watching. In complete contrast to that, he'd been all over Olivia since they arrived, some part of his body in almost constant contact with hers. Yet, his displays of affection didn't appear to be for anyone but Olivia. It felt a little voyeuristic simply being in the same room with them.
Fitz watched as Madison and Renée busily unpacked their kits. Fitz had never seen so much stuff. Between the two of them there were blow-dryers, flat irons, curling irons, scissors, dozens of make-up containers and tubes, a least fifty hair and make-up brushes of every shape and size imaginable, and a dozen hair care products. And, those were just the things he recognized! "Are you going to use all of that on Olivia?" he asked incredulously. "I hope to recognize her when you're finished."
The three women laughed at Fitz's naivety. "You've never seen this process before?" asked Madison.
"Never. This is one of many firsts that I've experienced with Liv. I usually show up at the end to whisk the girl away. I'm still learning to share my space." He turned to Stacey, who was laying a garment bag across the bed. "Is that her dress? Can I get a peek?" Fitz asked, moving toward the bed.
Stacey shooed him away. "No, I hope Olivia's dress and shoes are in the closet. These are for you."
Fitz laughed and headed to the bathroom. "I just need a second and then it's all yours," he said to Olivia.
"I think you'll need more than a second," she teased with a wink.
As Fitz disappeared into the bathroom, he heard Bruno Mars' voice sing out about his Manhattan condo from Madison's Bluetooth speaker. Before closing the door, he looked at Stacey and asked, "Did you bring it?" Stacey reached into a bag and held up a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. "I hope you brought more than one bottle."
Stacey chuckled. "I grabbed four bottles from the plane. Needless to say, the crew wasn't very happy and I don't think they believed me when I said it was for you."
Fitz shook his head. "I'm sorry about that. Some of the crews can be a bit uptight." Shifting his attention, he called out, "Liv, will you buzz Esmeralda and ask her to bring up some glasses and two ice buckets?"
Olivia nodded, moving to the intercom beside the bed to do as he asked, acutely aware that Stacey was scrutinizing every interaction between them. Olivia wanted to take her aside and explain. But, what would she say? That none of what she observed between the couple was real? That it was all an elaborate charade to convince a potential business partner of Fitz's growth and maturity? Was that even believable anymore? Did Fitz believe it? Did she?
Sighing deeply, Olivia decided to drop it and turn her attention to the other two women. "Well, it appears that I'm your blank canvas for the evening. Where do you want to start?"
Madison approached Olivia and ran her fingers through her hair, shaking it out to test its fullness, check its length, and evaluate the cut. "Whoever styled your hair was good, not as good as I am, but she was very good. Any thoughts about how you want to wear it tonight?"
"I just got it cut and colored on Tuesday and Fitz hasn't seen it straight, so I thought I'd change things up a little for him tonight."
Madison grinned broadly, "Sounds like a woman determined to keep her man. Do your thing. I ain't even mad." Olivia laughed at Madison's colloquialism.
Stacey walked over to the pair and injected herself into the conversation. "We can straighten your hair, no problem, but I want it pulled up and away from your face." Speaking to Madison, she explained, "Her dress has a completely open back and one of the most daring plunging necklines I've seen. I want her face and the audacity of the dress to be the focus of her look tonight. I don't want her hair distracting from that look." Bringing Renée into the conversation, she added, "I want the same thing with her make-up. You heard Fitz, he thinks she's beautiful just the way she is and wants to recognize her tonight. I think you should go for a mostly natural look with a bold eye. It'll be a challenge, but let's see if we can draw attention away from her exposed skin to her eyes. We may just prevent Fitz from starting a fight tonight. What do you think?"
Olivia stood there silently as the three women discussed her as if she was a mannequin they were dressing up and placing in a display window. She wondered how many times, if any, her thoughts and opinions would be solicited during this process. After a while of being poked and prodded from every angle, she grew restless. When DJ Khaled's Wild Thoughts began playing on Madison's iPhone, Olivia used that as her excuse to escape. "I love this song," she exclaimed, moving away from the trio and losing herself to the beat.
Fitz entered the room and found Olivia dancing in the middle of the floor, her arms raised above her head, seductively swaying her hips to the beat. He was entranced, unable to tear his eyes away from her as her movements beckoned him like a siren's call. He smiled as he listened to Rihanna singing about out of control, alcohol fueled lust. He wondered if he gave Olivia wild thoughts. All he knew was when he was close to her, he didn't think, couldn't think, all he could do was he feel.
Watching her dance, her body moving in a sexy interpretation of the music, made him crave her touch. He moved in behind her and started grinding against her to the rhythm of the music, easily keeping up with her movements. Olivia was impressed with Fitz's skills, he was indeed a man of many talents and might just live up to his lofty reputation. She closed her eyes, reached up, and wrapped an arm around his neck. She pressed her butt against him, moaning softly when she felt his member begin to swell against the small of her back.
"Damn it, Liv," he growled in her ear, the timber of his voice sending shivers throughout her body. "I just got him calmed down."
"It's not my fault you're so reactive," she purred.
The other three women sat there watching the two of them moving in unison. It was obvious that they were in a world all to themselves. Renée spoke up, wanting to interrupt the moment before it grew uncomfortable. "Damn, Fitz, you dance pretty well for a…," her voice trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence without offending him.
Without looking at her, he chuckled and said, "For an old white man. This isn't dancing. If the guy you're dancing with tonight can't do this, I suggest you leave his ass at the club or risk ending your night frustrated and unsatisfied." The four women burst into laughter at Fitz's cocky response.
"This is dancing," he bragged, grabbing Olivia's hips and spinning her into his arms and beginning to salsa with her. Olivia watched incredulously as he easily moved his feet, hips, and arms to the beat. She knew he went out clubbing most nights, but she assumed he was hanging out in the VIP areas watching others or making out with beautiful women. Never did she picture him on the dance floor. He had far more rhythm than expected and she was pleasantly surprised. She was entranced as he led her boldly and confidently through the steps and spins.
When she proved herself a capable partner, Fitz increased the difficulty of their spins with elaborate and exaggerated movements, throwing in an occasional dip for good measure. Olivia never faltered, matching him step for step. She grinned wickedly when he pulled her toward him, holding her close as their hips moved against each other longer than the beat demanded. When the song ended, Olivia let her body crash gently into his, allowing him to support her weight as she panted in his arms, while the other three women hooted and whistled.
"Not bad Ms. Pope," he said, flashing her a lopsided grin.
"I'm better in heels," she explained. "Where did you learn to dance like that?"
"I've been dancing since I was a kid, but JC's mom taught me to salsa." Leaning down to her ear and whispering in a sexy baritone so low only she could hear, he added, "And I'm better when I don't have to worry about my feet or arms and can focus solely on my hips and your face."
Olivia released a sharp, audible gasp and her body shivered against his. She pushed away from him laughing to cover her flustered state. "I need to shower. Are you hanging out here?" she asked with just a trace of uncertainty in her voice.
"No, I figured I'd give the four of you some space. I need to make some phone calls. I also need to find Stephen to thank him for the helicopter and make sure he's onboard with the developments in the Patterson Place project. You'll be ok here alone?"
"Yes," she said, marveling at how he never failed to consider her well-being. "I'll be fine."
He dipped his head to hers and tenderly parted her lips with his, teasing her briefly with his tongue before breaking the kiss. "Why is it so hard to say goodbye to you?"
Olivia swatted him playfully on the ass and headed toward the bathroom. "Get out of here so we can get started," she called over her shoulder. Madison grabbed two bottles from her kit and followed Olivia into the bathroom.
Stacey unzipped the garment bag and removed a beautiful white silk kimono robe decorated with images of pink peonies and orange butterflies and handed it Madison. "Give this to Olivia for me. Thanks!"
Fitz looked at Stacey and asked, "How did you know?"
"Know what?"
"Pink peonies…they are Liv's favorite flower."
Stacey smiled, intrigued that Fitz not only knew Olivia's favorite flower, but the specific color she preferred. "I didn't. I thought it was beautiful and would look great on her. I wanted her to be comfortable while we tortured her for the next two hours."
"Take it easy on her, Stacey, please. She's not one of us. This is all new to her. I want her taken care of and protected. She's still skittish. I've worked hard to get her to trust me. I don't want that undone after spending a couple of hours with the three of you."
"Trust me. I'll take excellent care of her. Have I let you down before?"
"Never," he said, walking toward the door.
"Before you go," Stacey added. "Where's your tux?"
"In a garment bag in the closet. Olivia was hiding her dress so, I thought I'd do the same," he said smiling brightly. "I couldn't decide between the Tom Ford and the Brooks Brothers so I brought them both."
"Excellent choices. I brought a couple of options for underpinnings. Do you want to look at them before you go?"
"I'm good with whatever Liv likes," he said dismissively. "You ladies have fun, but not too much fun. I need Olivia relaxed, but mostly sober when I get back. She's pregaming a black tie gala, not a night clubbing in the city," Fitz warned. "Do you need anything? I can ask Esmeralda to bring you up some food."
"Fitz, go," Stacey instructed. "Hurry up before Olivia comes out of the bathroom. Return in forty-five minutes. We'll be ready for you then."
Stacey and Renée busied themselves preparing for Olivia's emergence from the bathroom. Renée's hands deftly moved through her kit, selecting a moisturizer, cocoa liquid foundation, flesh-toned blush, a dusty almond lipstick, and a neutral gloss. She called Stacey over to her to consult on the eye she requested. "How do you feel about a liquid eyeliner layered with a cosmic black eyeliner and a carbon black mascara? I'll know for sure when she's in my chair, but I'll probably need to add lashes to give her volume. Is this bold enough for you or do you want bolder?"
"It's fine," Stacey said curtly. "With these selections she'll glow, but she won't look too made up. He should be pleased," she dismissed, heading toward the closest in search of Fitz's tuxedo and Olivia's dress.
"You didn't know, did you?" Renée asked tentatively.
"Know what?" Stacey knew exactly what Renée was talking about, but she also knew Olivia couldn't be engaged to Fitz. A fact the pretend couple was obviously working to conceal.
"That Fitz was engaged," Renée responded more confidently. "He didn't tell you when he asked you to come to New York. You found out when you saw that huge rock on her left ring finger."
"It's smaller than I thought it would be. Fitz doesn't usually do small," she said in a snarky voice.
Ignoring Stacey's comment, Renée continued. "He didn't tell you, did he? You thought he was inviting you here for more than styling Olivia. That's why you're being such a bitch to her."
"I'm here for the same reason you are; because Fitz's offer was too good to refuse. I'm here to do what he's paying us to do so we can get back on his jet and fly to the city for twenty-four hours of partying, shopping, and eating, all courtesy of Fitzgerald Grant. I couldn't care less that he's engaged. I'm his stylist and, I guess, now I'm her stylist that is until one of them calls off this engagement." Renée looked at Stacey, her eyes questioning the last statement. "Don't look at me like that. You may not know Fitz, but you must know of him. He's fucked half of the women in Miami. Olivia is not his first fiancée and she probably won't be his last. There is no reason for me to be a bitch to her. She doesn't have anything I want."
Renée chuckled humorlessly. "You can't bullshit a bullshitter. I may not know Fitz, but I do know you and I can tell that you have feelings for him. It's why you were testing them when they arrived? All that crap about their outfits and your reputation, you just wanted to see if he would defend her. Were you surprised when he did or did you suspect Olivia was different?"
"Don't be fooled by the ring. Olivia is just the latest woman on Fitz's arm. I haven't seen anything different about her yet," Stacey lied. Everything about Fitz was different when he was with Olivia. He doted on and deferred to her in a way she'd never seen him do before. Fitz was never shy about throwing his money around, but, in her two interactions with Olivia this week, it appeared that he was using his money to take care of her rather than impress her. Oddly enough, he actually appeared to be trying to protect her from his lifestyle. However, none of that changed the fact that Olivia was married. She was unavailable and that was a problem Fitz couldn't buy or bully his way out of.
Renée smiled at her friend deep in thought. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
Stacey rolled her eyes and entered the small walk-in closet where she was immediately confronted by the image of Fitz and Olivia's domesticity. Their clothes were hanging neatly side by side, Olivia's items easily taking up two thirds of the space. Stacey ran her fingers along Fitz's clothes allowing her mind to consider for a moment what it would be like to be the recipient of his affections, not just the subject of his sexual desires. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices coming from the bedroom. Madison and Olivia were finished in the bathroom and had joined Renée. She grabbed two garment bags, one from Fitz's side of the closet and the other from Olivia's, sneering at the designer luggage, an obvious gift from Fitz. Remembering Fitz's admonishment from earlier, she plastered on her best fake smile and joined the other women.
When Stacey reentered the room she found Olivia seated in a bar chair that someone delivered to the room along with champagne glasses and an antipasto tray. She looked around and shook her head. Fitz must have intercepted the housekeeper and asked for the additional items. Olivia was dressed in only the robe and her hair was in its naturally curly state. Madison was blowing it straight with a ghd Air Hairdryer. Fitz was right; Olivia was a beautiful woman without enhancement. It should be an easy night for the glam squad.
The three women were briefly startled by a loud popping sound followed closely by the sound of Renée's giggles as she uncorked a bottle of champagne. She quickly poured four glasses, handing one each to Stacey and Olivia before placing a third in the dresser near Madison. Renée raised her glass in the air and exclaimed, "To the beautiful ones." All of the women laughed heartily before taking a sip of their champagne.
"Stacey," Madison called, pulling Olivia's hair up to the crown of her head. "How about a sexy, tousled ponytail?"
"A ponytail?" Olivia questioned. "I just cut my hair. It's not long enough."
"I've got plenty of hair," Madison countered. "And, thanks to the photo Fitz sent Stacey, it's already died to match your color."
Olivia frowned. "What photo?"
Ignoring Olivia's question, Stacey addressed Madison, "A ponytail would be perfect. It's youthful, but when paired with her dress will look sexy and edgy. I don't want to add bangs, so her roots should have lots of volume. The ponytail itself should have body and it should swing in rhythm with her hips when she walks. Let's do it."
Annoyed that both women were talking about her rather than to her, Olivia spoke up. "I don't want a weave. It's important to me that I don't start changing who I am to please him. When he looks at me, I want him to see the real me, not some plastic perfect version of me," she said in a commanding tone, making it clear that she was the one calling the shots.
Madison was shocked by Olivia assertive response. "I get it and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made assumptions about who you were based on what I know about Fitz."
"It's okay. You're not the first person to do that," Olivia offered, trying to push away the memories from the previous night creeping into her conscious. "I'm still adjusting to being with Fitz, but I know I'm different from the type of women he usually dates. I'm proud of that and I'd like to stay that way." Reflecting on Fitz's angry words from earlier, she added, "Whatever the future may hold, I'm committed to being myself."
Olivia's honesty and relatability were a refreshing change from the clientele she was used to working with and was starting thaw Madison's initial frosty demeanor. "I should have started this process by asking if there were things you didn't want me to do with your hair. If I may, I think I have a reasonable compromise that will work for both you and Stacey. How do you feel about clip-in extensions? They would only be for the gala and it will take you less than two minutes to remove them when you get back to the room tonight. It would be a temporary change to achieve a very specific look that Stacey will never let you repeat. Is that acceptable?"
Olivia nodded slowly. "Thanks for understanding."
"No worries," Madison offered. "Tonight is all about you." In a low voice so only Olivia could hear, she added, "Don't worry about challenging Stacey. She understands making you happy is the only way to make him happy. She wouldn't dare disappoint one of her best clients." In a louder, cheerful voice, she said, "Renée, Olivia's glass is empty. Bring her some more champagne and turn the music up."
Stacey watched as Madison and Renée fussed over Olivia. Pleased things were going according to plan; she turned her attention to Fitz's outfit. She opened the garment bag and retrieved the two options. Holding both suits up for Olivia to see, she asked, "Which one do you like? Fitz said that you could make the decision."
Olivia's face twisted into a frown. "Me? Why? You're his stylist. You dress him far better than I ever could. You should pick."
Stacey beamed proudly. "I know he prefers the Tom Ford, it makes him feel like James Bond, but I think the cut of the Brooks Brothers suits him perfectly."
"I've been dropping hints about my dress all day. It's definitely worthy of a Bond girl. Let's go with the Tom Ford."
Stacey returned to her garment bag and removed a white marcella shirt with French cuffs, onyx studs, and a black diamond point bow tie. "Do you know where his cuff links are?" she asked Olivia.
"I think they're in the attaché case with my jewelry."
Stacey went into the closet and returned carrying the case with a pair of Tom Ford black leather derby shoes for Fitz and a pair of glittering gold Stuart Weitzman sandals with a single strap at the ankle and toe for Olivia. She placed the shoes near the bed and handed Olivia the case, waiting patiently while she unlocked it. When the case was open, Stacey gestured toward the case and asked, "May I?"
"Of course," Olivia replied, handing over the jewelry.
Stacey began opening and closing the small boxes looking at the options, occasionally praising the quality of the Samuel's artisanship. After thoroughly reviewing the contents of the case, she approached Olivia carrying two boxes. She opened the first box, revealing a pair of two-carat cushion cut diamond studs that matched Olivia's engagement ring. Talking to Madison and Renée, she said, "I think we should keep it super simple with her jewelry, just these and her engagement ring." The two women looked at the earrings and nodded their approval. She opened the second box, revealing a pair of platinum cuff links with black pavé diamonds. Speaking to Olivia, she asked, "Do you approve of these for Fitz?"
Olivia took the box from Stacey and examined the cuff links. "They're beautiful," she replied, in a hushed voice. "Samuel is an incredibly talented man. They're perfect for our 007."
Stacey looked at her watch and said, "Fitz should be back soon. Are you almost finished with her hair?" Madison nodded her reply, focused on putting the finishing touches on Olivia's ponytail. "Good, I want her to be in make up when he arrives. I don't care if he sees her hair or make up, but I want him dressed and out of here before I start dressing her.
Stacey walked over to the dresser opening the drawers searching for Fitz's boxers and socks. When she found what she was looking for, she went into the bathroom and began organizing things for Fitz. Olivia chuckled inwardly at how familiar Stacey's actions were, recounting the numerous times it was her responsibility to make sure his every need was anticipated and taken care of. These past few days with Fitz had been a complete reversal of that norm as he, or more accurately his team, catered to Olivia's every need, both real and those imagined by Fitz.
Olivia was just transitioning from hair to make up when there was a quiet knock on the door quickly followed by the door opening a crack and Fitz calling into the room, "Is it safe to enter?"
"I can't ensure your safety, but you can come in," Olivia replied.
"Hello ladies," Fitz greeted everyone as he entered the room and headed straight for Olivia. Reaching for the champagne glass on the table, he asked, "Is this your glass?" When Olivia replied affirmatively, he raised the glass to his lips, finishing the contents in a single swallow before refilling the glass and placing it on the table in front of her. "You look beautiful," he said to Olivia before asking Renée, "Have you done her lips?"
"No," she replied stepping out of the way.
Fitz positioned himself between Olivia's legs, leaning down and kissing her gently, careful not to touch her face or hair, before pulling away. "Hi," he said smiling at her. She laughed quietly and pulled his head down for another kiss before responding. "Hi. How is Stephen?"
"He's good. Pleased that you enjoyed the helicopter ride, but bummed his Yankees lost. He invited us to New York to join him in his box for the next game, but only if I promised not to wear this jersey."
She faux pouted. "I think you look cute in that jersey."
"I think the problem is the team, not the jersey," he teased. "The lawyers circulated the first draft of the subcontract. We can review it tomorrow."
"We?" she asked.
"You're the lawyer. I want your input." Stacey's ear perked up at Fitz's comment. Olivia had introduced herself as Fitz's assistant. If what Fitz said was true, she was overqualified for the position. Had proximity to Fitz been the primary motivation for Olivia's employment?
"I went to law school, I'm not a lawyer. You should trust your legal team on this."
"I trust you," he said, pecking her on the lips.
Without thinking, he reached up and caressed her face, intending to deepen the kiss when Stacey interrupted. "Alright you two, that's enough. Renée just started her make-up and you're ruining it." Fitz chuckled, noticing for the first time that his hand was on her cheek and removing it immediately. "You," she barked, "it's time for you get ready pretty boy. Everything is all set up for you in the bathroom. When you're done let me know and I'll bring in your shirt and pants."
"Which tuxedo did she choose?"
"The Tom Ford."
Fits grinned broadly. "The lady obviously has excellent taste in men and tuxedos," he said, kissing her one last time before doing as Stacey instructed and heading for the bathroom.
Renée resumed her position in front of Olivia, examining and touching up her cheek. "I don't know how you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Anything other than spend the day in that man's arms," she said dreamily.
Olivia laughed. "He's not always like this. He's extra today because he took me home to Boston, where he planned and executed a full day of surprises. Normally I hate surprises, but I have to admit today was incredible, every single detail of the day was perfect. Now he's strutting around because he thinks he's the king of surprises."
Renée shook her head laughing. "It's a very sexy strut."
"Don't let him hear you say that." Olivia teased. "He difficult enough to deal with today, he doesn't need any additional encouragement."
"So, spill, what's it like to be engaged to Fitz?"
"It's a little surreal. I mean, he's Fitzgerald Grant. Everyone in Miami is familiar with his reputation. I thought we'd go out on a couple of dates, have a little fun, and then we'd move on. But, I quickly learned that Fitz is so much more than his reputation. He's kind, thoughtful, protective, generous, and loyal." Renée raised her eyebrows, silently challenging Olivia's assessment of Fitz. "I know," Olivia said with a laugh, "that last one was a surprise to me as well."
"So, in other words, he's perfect."
"I didn't say that. His habit of indiscriminately bedding women means that his life is littered with women that know him intimately," Olivia said, pointedly looked at Stacey.
"Those bitches would have to go," she said sassily.
Olivia shook her head. "That would only send the message that I don't trust him, when I do. Some of these women have been in his life for years. Trying to push them out would only encourage them and discourage him. Love can't exist in a space without trust." Again looking at Stacey, she added, "We don't have secrets. He's honest and candid about his past and I try to remember it's just that, his past."
Before Renée or Stacey could respond, the bathroom door opened and revealed Fitz, fresh out of the shower, his towel resting low on his hips, drops of water running over his well sculpted abs. "Fuck me," Renée exhaled softly while Madison and Stacey stared at him with their mouths slightly agape. Olivia watched as Fitz enjoyed the women's reaction. Feeling her eyes on him, he stared at her grinning devilishly, before winking in her direction.
"Show off," Olivia teased. "We all know you're beautiful. Now, do you need something or did you just want us to stroke your ego."
Fitz flashed her his trademark lopsided grin. It wasn't his ego he wanted her to stroke, but this wasn't the time or the place to think about that. "I need my shirt and pants," he replied, running a hand through his hair that was beginning to curl despite being heavy with water. The simple motion flexed his biceps and gave his audience a better view of his torso.
"Do you want me to style your hair before you put on your shirt," Madison asked.
Fitz looked to Olivia for her opinion and she shrugged with indifference. "Sure," he replied. "Just let me put on some pants first," he said reaching for the clothing Stacey was handing him before disappearing into the bathroom.
Renée positioned Olivia's face so she could begin working on her eyes. "He just oozes sexy male confidence. How old is he?"
"Forty," Olivia and Stacey said simultaneously.
"I've never seen a forty year old man that looks like him. He must live in the gym."
"He works out less than you would think. He does just enough to prevent his lifestyle from affecting his body. He's guilty of at least four or five of the seven deadly sins, pride being near the top of the list."
Fitz once again opened the bathroom door, this time dressed in his tuxedo pants and an undershirt that was straining to contain his muscles, his feet still bare. "I'm ready for you," he said to Madison. She grabbed the things she needed from the table, following Fitz into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Determined not to respond to the brazen act of disrespect, Olivia remained still and silent while Renée worked her magic. She was surprised when the bathroom door opened less than a minute later and Fitz asked her, "Any requests?"
Renée stopped working so Olivia could turn her head in Fitz's direction. "She can gel your curls into submission, but don't let her cut them. I like your hair long enough to curl around my fingers."
"You heard my beautiful fiancée," Fitz said to Madison, retreating into the bathroom, but leaving the door open. Olivia couldn't stop the smile that was spreading across her face. Fitz recognized Madison's not so subtle message and countered with a message of his own. He belonged to Olivia; at least he did for the rest of the night.
Fitz, now fully dressed minus his tie and jacket, and Madison rejoined the group just as Renée was finishing Olivia's eyes. "You're just in time. I was just about to hand her over to Stacey. Do you think you can kiss her without touching her face?" Renée asked, stepping away from Olivia.
Fitz laughed at the tiny young woman throwing attitude his way. "I think I can manage," he said making his way to Olivia, under Stacey's watchful gaze. "Any chance I could convince you to let me stay while you get dressed?" he asked, rubbing his hands along her thighs.
"None. It's my turn to surprise you. Now kiss me before Stacey throws you out."
Fitz made a show of clasping his hands behind his back before leaning down and capturing Olivia's lips with his own for a slow, hungry kiss. Olivia was the first to break the kiss. "You should go before we forget why we're here," she teased.
Fitz pecked her lips a couple of times before leaving her in Stacey's very capable hands. "I'll be waiting for you in the living area."
Thirty minutes later, the bedroom door opened and Fitz looked up expectantly, unable to hide his disappointment when he saw it was Stacey leaving the room, not Olivia. Chuckling at his reaction, she explained, "They are just putting the finishing touches on her hair and make-up. She'll be out in a moment." She crossed the room and joined him on the couch. "Does she know?"
"Does she know what?"
"That you're falling for her."
"I'm not falling for her," he scoffed.
"How many women have I dressed for you?"
"Too many to count."
"Exactly. And, not once have I ever seen you like this. You're always so professional, so coolly detached from the current woman on your arm. There is something different about her, something special, even I can see it. In exchange for two hours of work, you financed a trip to New York for me and two of my friends. You've always been prone to grand gestures, but this is extreme, even for you."
"She's married," he deflected. "We're just friends."
"Does her husband know where she is?"
"Of course he does. What, did you think that I kidnapped her? They talk twice a day. Well…they were. I don't think they've spoken today."
"Does that have something to do with your handprint being on her arm and your fingerprints on her thigh?"
"Those aren't my prints," he spat. "Who do you think I am? I would never hurt her."
"Someone hurt Olivia?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern. "Who? Her husband? Is that why she's here with you?"
"Her husband is a whiny bitch baby, completely ill-suited for her, but I don't think he would hurt her, not physically."
"Well, who?"
"That's Olivia's story to tell. If she wanted you to know, she would have explained when you discovered the bruises."
"They were hard to miss once she took off her robe. Don't worry, Renée worked her magic to cover the bruises on her arm. Do you know who hurt her?"
"Yes," he replied, coolly.
"And?" she asked, frustrated by his sudden coyness. "You're just going to allow someone to get away with hurting her?"
He looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "You know me better than that. I handled it the best I could in the moment. She was with me and I didn't want to cause her any more harm. I tried to convince her to press charges, but she refused."
"So…what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to ruin him, slowly, so I can enjoy it," he said, his eyes alight with mischief.
"Olivia must be very special to warrant such a response."
"Like I said, we're just friends."
"You light up when she's in the room and you hang on her every word. The way that you look at her, like she's your hallelujah, heroin, and reason to breathe. God," she sighed audibly, "what wouldn't I give to have a man look at me like that, even just once? I'm more than a little jealous of her." Fitz looked at her curiously. "You have to know how I feel," she said with a nervous laugh.
"Stacey, I…" he trailed off, uncertain what to say.
"Don't," she interrupted. "You're easy to love, but impossible to date. I know I'm not the woman for you. Before today, I was convinced no woman was. That was before I saw you with her. You didn't even pay any attention to Madison and she's fucking gorgeous, exactly your type."
"Is that why you brought her here?"
"I brought her because she's an incredibly talented hairstylist. The best I know." Fitz looked at her suspiciously. "OK, maybe just a little bit," she surrendered. "I was hoping to tempt you into ditching Olivia after the ball and partying with us in the city. In my defense, I didn't know about the two of you. I thought she was married."
"She is married," he growled in frustration.
"I couldn't tell watching the two of you together. She wasn't exactly spurning your advances. I dare say she was welcoming them. I've never seen you so affectionate with someone. You've got it bad, but she has a husband waiting for her at home. What are you going to do when she returns to him? You know that is what's going to happen, right? There is no way in hell she throws away her marriage to be with you. How long was your longest relationship? Six months?
Fitz sat there and silently stewed listening to Stacey. She didn't know anything about what was happening between him and Olivia. His past actions weren't relevant to his relationship with her. Everything about her, about them, was different. He wasn't being a hopeless romantic. He knew she was married and he knew that meant something to her, but he also knew she wasn't happy, she had told him as much. She had sacrificed so much - her family, her career, her passions - to be with Jake, yet she chose to spend the weekend with him, against her husband's wishes. She was there with him for a reason and he was determined to find out why.
"You don't understand," he offered weakly.
Stacey's eyes softened and she smiled at him warmly. "I'm not trying to be cruel, but I also can't stand by and watch her lead you on and take advantage of you. I know you and I've been in Olivia's shoes. Are you going to tell me that you're not throwing around your money, lavishing expensive gifts on her? How much has this little weekend cost you?" Fitz looked away from her awkwardly, uncomfortable by how easily she read him.
The door to their bedroom opened and Madison and Renée emerged. Fitz turned his attention to the women, thankful for the interruption. "She's ready for you," Madison said to Fitz. Stacey rose from the couch and joined the other women preparing to make their exit.
"Stacey…"
"Yes?"
"Thank you, for everything," he said, walking toward her. When he reached her, he opened his arms and pulled her into an endearing hug, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. "You're a good friend." Fitz released her and walked toward the bedroom door.
'Fitz…" she called over her shoulder, just before descending the stairs.
He paused and turned his head toward her, his hand still on the doorknob. "Yes?"
"Prepare yourself."
"For what?"
"I dress beautiful women for a living and, even still, she took my breath away," she paused before adding, "If you're convinced she's the one, don't give up until she understands why you're the better man, the only man for her." With that, she and her friends disappeared down the stairs.
Fitz took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before joining Olivia. When he was ready, he slowly twisted the doorknob and opened door. Olivia was standing in the middle of the room, fidgeting nervously as she waited for him. The moment their eyes clashed, a sexual yearning leapt between them, devouring them slowly.
"Hi," he said, in a breathy exhale, all of the air rushing out of his lungs as he took in the sight before him. Olivia was a vision in white, the contrast with her caramel skin tone making her radiant. She was breathtakingly beautiful in a sequin-encrusted white column gown with a wide plunging neckline, stopping just above her belly button and exposing a generous amount of cleavage. Accenting the dress were a trio of neon yellow strings forming a Y across her exposed skin. How he longed to trace the path of the strings with his tongue.
"Hi," she replied, giggling nervously, under his intense gaze. "You look dashing."
"You look amazing, absolutely stunning. It's taking every ounce of willpower I have not ravish you where you stand. I've never wanted anything as badly as I want you right now."
Unable to handle his unvarnished honesty, Olivia's eyes darted to the floor. She craved his affirmation and receiving it made her feel appreciated and worthy. She could hear her mother's voice chiding her for letting a man define her worth, but that's not was this was. There was something different about this man. He reminded her of her worth without trying to define it for her. He had no desire to control her, but desperately wanted to consume her. Yes, he wanted her to submit to him, but only if it empowered her to do so. It was evident that whatever happened between them would be her choice and her choice alone, uninfluenced by him or anyone else. He was standing before her willing her to choose him and she was uncertain how to respond. Did she want him as much as he appeared to want her? Was giving into those desires worth the consequences?
Fitz stood quietly, waiting for her to return his attention to him. When she did, he said, "I don't think any woman has ever looked more beautiful than you do tonight."
"It's not too much?" she asked timidly.
Recalling her response from earlier, he said, "It's the perfect amount of much. Can you move?"
"Yes," she replied, giggling demurely. "I probably shouldn't do jumping jacks, but I can walk and dance without being concerned."
"How?" he asked, genuinely confused about how the dress was defying the laws of physics.
"Tape. Trust me it's secure."
"Turn around, slowly," he commanded in a deep, sexy baritone that was laced with need. His gaze burned over her, making the ache in her body grow. A little self-conscious at first, she began a slow turn, exposing the side cutouts in her dress, holding his gaze until the strain on her neck was too much to bear. She heard him growl a deep rumble that only added to the slick heat gathering between her legs when she revealed the back, or lack thereof, of her gown. The dress dipped low, a small neon yellow modesty patch and some strategically placed neon strings, the only things preventing her from being indecent. Fitz's fingers twitched involuntarily with the desire to make contact with her exposed skin.
"Do you like it?" she asked shyly.
Struggling to maintain control, he replied, "Like is not the word I would use. I love everything about the way you look tonight. The only thing more perfect would be to see that dress on the floor."
"Okay, Bruno," she teased. "It took me two hours to get ready. We are at least making an appearance. I want to show you off."
"Trust me; no one will be looking at me. All eyes will be on you and that dress."
"Stacey has an incredible eye. The whole look is flawless," she said modestly.
"The dress is simply decorative. It's you that's absolute perfection."
Feeling her resolve weakening, she changed the topic. "Shall we go?"
"Can I say no?"
"No," she replied, grinning widely. "We have people to convince of our love"
"That shouldn't be a problem tonight," he said moving toward her and pulling her into his embrace. He buried his face in her neck, dropping sloppy open mouthed kisses along the column of it, making her groan in frustration as her body vibrated under his touch. His kisses moved down to the slope of her shoulder, left bare by her evening gown and his hands dipped below her dress' modesty patch.
"Fitz," she gasped, uncertain if she wanted him to stop or continue.
Fitz reluctantly tore his lips and hands from her skin. Gathering himself, he said, "Then we shall," offering her his arm. Olivia nodded, her skin still flushed and tingling from his touch, and laid her hand on his arm, allowing him to escort her from the room.
A/N: A bit of a disclaimer, this was supposed to be the third of three chapters planned for their day together, but once I started writing, I ended up going in a different direction than originally planned. I decided to pop their bubble a little to see how they would respond to an outside challenge. The next chapter will explore the connection that's building between them now that they've exposed themselves a bit. As always, I welcome your thoughts and comments – let me know what you liked and disliked. Sometimes you guys read things in the story that I didn't consciously write, which then triggers other ideas or thoughts. Thank you for the inspiration.