A/N: Happy March Madness to my fellow college basketball fans! I've failed you all, I know it and I'm sorry. I have some really good reasons for being away so long, but I know you didn't click on the link to read about me. You want to read about Olitz. So, I'm going to give you that, but first a bit of a disclaimer. This chapter was really, really long. About 20K words long, which is ridiculous. So, I broke it up into two separate parts. The good news is the second half is already written and I will post it in exactly one week, but the bad news is the two sections were never intended to stand alone so there is a lot that just moves the story forward. I hope you can be patient with me and that the first installment with the promise of a quick second installment will be worth the wait.
Olivia was sitting at her desk, enjoying her tea and the early morning quiet while she waited for Fitz to arrive. Ever since their trip, he'd been different, more focused. He reported to the office early, ready to work. Gone were the mid-morning arrivals, office showers, and hangover cures. She didn't know how he was spending his nights and she couldn't bring herself to ask. He told her he would wait for her to make her decision, but they never discussed what that meant for him. As much as it pained her to think of him with another woman, she knew it was likely some beauty was warming his sheets. Don't ask, don't tell had become their routine and she appreciated his newfound discretion.
She leaned back in her chair and wondered how she found herself her in this place. How had she gone from happily married to contemplating breaking her vows in a matter of weeks? Did she even know what a happy marriage was? Her friends and colleagues were all single. The only happily married people she knew were her parents. She thought back to when she and Jake were newlyweds planning their lives together. Were her hopes and dreams for the future ignored or had she failed to express them? Had she made choices, some of them without realizing it, that allowed contentment to overrule her passions?
Was she being unfair with this sudden yearning for and pursuit of "something more" with Fitz? How was Jake supposed to know what was going on in her mind if she didn't tell him? Fitz knew her the way he did because she had revealed so much of herself to him. Had she afforded her husband the same opportunity or had she been walled off and repressed, unconsciously hiding parts of herself from him? Was the bliss she felt when she was with Fitz unique to him or could it be found in her marriage?
Could she trust what she felt for Fitz or was he just the shiny new thing in her life? Different wasn't always better. From the surface, it looked like Fitz was the complete package, good looks, intelligence, charm, money, and sexual confidence. Nevertheless, were these the qualities of a good husband or a good fling? Was he also honest, loyal, attentive, and faithful? Olivia chuckled to herself. Three out of four ain't bad.
Olivia let out a frustrated, silent scream. She was tired of being stuck in her head and paralyzed with indecision. Tired of being torn between following the rules and allowing herself to give into her yearnings. Was having an affair the answer? It didn't seem fair to Fitz to start something with him while still holding on to Jake. If she was going to fall into whatever this was with Fitz, she needed to let go and trust him to catch her. However, it felt equally unfair to Jake to declare her marriage over and move on with Fitz without giving Jake an opportunity to satisfy her new desires. Did it even matter what was fair? How was she supposed to choose?
Olivia was mercifully pulled from her circular thoughts when her office phone rang. "Fitzgerald Grant III's office. This is Olivia," she answered.
"Hey doll. This is Big Gerry. I need to talk to - wait - what did you say your name is?"
"Olivia. Olivia Ballard, sir. I'm Fitz's executive assistant."
"Are you the same Olivia that Stephen Merkle just spent the last ten minutes raving about? The one that's supposed to be marrying my son."
"S-sir," she stammered. "I think you should talk to Fitz."
"It's a simple question. Did you or did you not spend the weekend with Fitz in New York as his fiancée? What happened to Mellie, his actual fiancée?" he asked, growing angrier with each word.
"You really need to speak with Fitz. He's not in the office, but I'll track him down and have him call you right away."
"I'll take your deflection as confirmation."
"Sir, I really think -"
"When you find my spoiled, ungrateful, self-indulgent son please let him know that his mother and I expect to see you both at seven o'clock for dinner."
"Sir, I -"
"It wasn't a request, Olivia. I'll see you at seven." With that, he hung up the phone abruptly.
Olivia panicked. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. They were so busy trying to convince everyone that Fitz checked all of the boxes to join their ranks and trying to close the Patterson Place deal that they never stopped to consider what would happen if they succeeded. With all the attention the Merkles were doling on Fitz and Olivia, they should have anticipated their engagement would come up during their next conversation with Fitz's parents. If they hadn't been so distracted by each other, they would have anticipated it and gotten in front of it instead of having it surprise them later. How many other unintended consequences would fallout from the weekend they shared and what would it cost them?
Olivia calmed down and tried to focus. She needed to talk to Fitz so they could come up with a plan. She looked at her watch. It was quarter after eight; Fitz should be on his way to the office. She called Fitz's cellphone but, after a couple of rings, she was forwarded to his voicemail. "Hey...we need to talk. It's important. Please call me when you get this. Thanks." Olivia frowned; it wasn't like Fitz not to answer when she called. She checked his calendar to make sure he didn't schedule a meeting himself after she left yesterday and found that he was free until eleven. Just in case he couldn't answer his phone, she pulled out her cellphone and sent him a quick text.
Olivia: Its important call me back.
She stared at her phone waiting for the three dots to appear, letting her know he was responding. After thirty seconds with no indication of a response, she texted again.
Olivia: Hello...
Annoyed by his lack of response, she waited a couple of minutes and called him again. This time, when he didn't answer, she hung up without leaving a message. She waited five minutes and texted him again.
Olivia: Ur dad called and is demanding we come 2 dinner 2 explain ourselves. Call me.
She stared at her phone. Still nothing from Fitz. She knew his phone wasn't dead because it wasn't going straight to voicemail. His phone was working; he just wasn't calling her back. Thinking that maybe he was at the office gym, she called the building's reception desk. "Hey Morris. It's Olivia in Fitz's office."
"Hey, Olivia. What can I do for you?"
"Have you seen Fitz this morning?"
"Not yet, but it's still early. Do you want me to ask him to call you when he gets here?"
"Will you please? He's not answering his phone and I need to speak with him urgently."
"Anything for you."
"Thanks, Morris. I'll talk to you later."
Olivia waited another ten minutes and called Fitz again, slamming her phone on the desk when he once again didn't answer. She sent another text message.
Olivia: Im starting 2 freak out. This is my job. Please call me.
Unsure what to do next, Olivia started her morning routine. She read and responded to emails; checked Fitz's voicemail and responded to the urgent calls; and started arranging for his travel at the end of the month. Feeling like she'd made decent headway into her to-do list, she looked at her watch. It was nine thirty and still no word from Fitz. Where was he and what was he doing? She called him and left him a second voicemail before firing off two quick text messages.
Olivia: Fitz...
Olivia: Where r u?
Quickly transitioning from being annoyed to being worried, Olivia called Brian. "Hi, Brian. It's Liv. How are you?"
Brian's face lit up with a bright smile upon hearing her voice. Olivia was quickly becoming his favorite passenger. "I'm good, Mrs. -
"Brian," she warned.
He chuckled, appropriately chastised. "I'm good Olivia. How are you? Is Mr. Grant ready for me to pick him up? Is he at your house?"
"What? No!" she exclaimed, shocked by how casually he suggested she would entertain Fitz at her house, in her bed. "I'm looking for Fitz. I need to talk him. I was hoping he was with you."
"I haven't talked to him since I dropped him off last night."
"Where did you drop him off?"
"Olivia," he hesitated. "You know I can't answer that."
"I'm not some crazy, jealous stalker. I don't care who Fitz is sleeping with. I wouldn't ask you to violate your agreement if it wasn't important. I've been trying to reach him for an hour. This is not like him. He always calls or texts me back. I need to find him before his father does."
Brian paused, thinking about what Olivia said. An hour without communication wasn't long enough to push the panic button. He knew his boss well enough to suspect he was in his bed, still drunk from the night before, his dick in the mouth of some beautiful woman. Yet, Olivia knew Fitz as well as, if not better than, he did. If she was worried, maybe there was reason to be concerned. "I dropped him off at home after work yesterday and haven't heard from him since. Do you want me to go check his condo?"
"No, Brian. Thanks for the offer. I just wanted to make sure he wasn't out last night."
"I don't know what he did last night. I just know I didn't take him anywhere."
Olivia sighed. "If he calls you, will you let me know he's okay?"
"Of course. I'm know you're worried, but I'm sure he's fine."
"I hope so. Have a good day."
"You too," he said, disconnecting the call.
Growing desperate, Olivia sent another text message
Olivia: Im starting 2 worry. R u OK? Just call me.
Olivia chewed nervously on her bottom lip. The only person left to call was his door attendant and she knew he'd be even more reluctant than Brian to provide any information. Moreover, if Fitz was driving himself, he wouldn't have to pass the doorman to leave the building. She was out of options. There was nothing left for her to do but wait. Fitz had a meeting in a little over an hour. He had to turn up eventually. Feeling a bit inept, she sent another text.
Olivia: WTF Fitz? If ur not hurt Im going 2 hurt u when I c u.
Where was he and why wasn't he returning her calls and messages? This was behavior she expected from the old Fitz, not the new Fitz. Olivia began to stew, as angry with herself as she was with Fitz. Old Fitz, new Fitz, who was she kidding, there was only one Fitz, the charming, but irresponsible manwhore she'd worked with for the past four years. She felt like a fool for beginning to fall for him. She couldn't believe she let her guard down with him, that she'd actually started to trust him, to think for a second he could be the man he described. He hadn't changed, if anything he was worse. At least before, he would answer her call or send her a message checking in. There had been radio silence this morning. Frustrated, she fired off another text.
Olivia: Pull ur dick out of whatever blonde bimbo ur fucking and call me back.
After twenty minutes without a response, Olivia dejectedly sent one final text.
Olivia: If u dont give a shit neither do I. U can explain to ur parents by ur self. Im done.
Olivia threw her phone in her purse, grabbed her wallet, and went to find Lauren to see if she wanted to walk with her to the corner deli for a bagel.
XXXXX
Fitz collapsed on the ground, covered in sweat, every muscle in his body screaming in exhaustion. He turned toward his partner, his eyes closed, a lazy smile spread upon his lips. "Thanks for the workout. I really needed that."
"Anytime," an equally exhausted voice called in response. "You know...you've been coming by a lot lately and I've been available, but that won't always be the case. We could make this a regular thing. I could reserve a time for you, that way you'd know I'm available."
"I'll think about it. My schedule is fairly erratic, especially now. It's hard to know in advance when I'll be available. Speaking of which, what time is it?"
"It's quarter after ten."
"Shit. I have to run. I have a meeting at eleven that I can't blow off." Fitz felt heavy footsteps approach him and raised his arm in the air. A strong hand grasped his and helped him to his feet. "Thanks, Matt."
"No problem. Here," he said, stepping behind Fitz, "let me help you out of this protective gear." Once Fitz was free, he shook hands with his sparring partner and moved to collect his gear. "Leave it. You're in a rush. I'll clean everything and store it until your next visit. See you tomorrow?"
Fitz laughed. "Probably not, but we'll see. I'll definitely return before the end of the week." Looking around the mat, he asked, "Have you seen my phone?"
Matt shook his head. "It must be in your locker. Let me know if you don't find it." With that, he collected Fitz's gear and headed toward the area reserved for staff.
Fitz grabbed a towel from the bin and rubbed his hair dry as he walked to the locker room. He opened his locker and checked the pockets of his sweatpants for his phone, breathing a sigh of relief when he found it. He unlocked his phone and noticed he'd missed four calls from Olivia and that she'd sent ten text messages. There was also a missed call and text message from Brian. Without checking any of the messages, he immediately called Olivia back. When she didn't answer her office phone, he called her cellphone. Again, she didn't answer, but this time he left a message. "Hey, Liv. I saw I missed your calls. Sorry, I left my phone in my locker. If you were calling to remind me about the meeting at eleven, I haven't forgotten. I'm jumping in the shower now and will be in the office in thirty minutes. I'll see you soon."
Fitz read the message from Brian checking in for the morning and responded letting him know he'd jogged to the gym and needed him to meet him outside in fifteen minutes. He tossed his phone back in his locker and gathered the things he needed for his shower.
Shortly later, he slid into the back seat of his Mercedes freshly showered, wearing sweatpants and a Yale lacrosse t-shirt . "Good morning, Brian."
"Good morning, sir. Straight to the office?" Brian questioned, taking in Fitz's casual appearance.
"Yes, we don't have enough time to stop by the condo. I have a meeting at eleven. I'll change at the office."
"Have you talked to Mrs. Ballard today?"
Brian referring to Olivia as Jake's wife jarred Fitz. "I called her, but she didn't answer. Why?"
"She called earlier -
"She called you?"
"Yes, sir. She was looking for you. I think she was worried."
Fitz removed his phone from his pocket and read Olivia's text messages, his face growing grave as her tone deteriorated with each message. "Fuck me!" he exclaimed, slamming his fist on the armrest as he read her final two message. Of all days to leave his phone in his locker, this was the worse. Of course, she assumed he was fucking someone else instead of taking her call and now didn't want anything to do with him.
"What did you tell her?"
"Nothing, sir. I can't talk to anyone about where I take you or what I witness while working for you."
"You can talk to Liv."
"With all due respect, I can't. My lawyer said that, per the agreement, the only person I can talk to about you is you mother."
"You had a lawyer review the agreement?" Fitz asked with a chuckle.
"I like my job. I plan to keep it."
"I give you permission to talk to Liv." Brian looked at Fitz uncertainly in the rearview mirror. "I'll have my attorney amend the NDA," Fitz conceded.
"Thank you."
A few minutes later, Brian pulled the car to a stop in front of the Grant Enterprises office building. Fitz hopped out of the car and jogged into the building. As he rushed past the reception desk, he offered a hurried greeting. "Good morning, Morris."
"Good morning, Mr. Grant. Olivia wants you to call her."
She'd called Morris too? Damn it. In the four years they had worked together, he could count on one hand the number of times she had to track him down. It was their agreement, she would eat, breathe, and live Fitzgerald Grant every minute of every day and he would always be available to her. It didn't matter what he was doing, when she called, he answered. It was one of her conditions for taking the job.
"I'm heading up to her now. Thanks," he said, pushing the button recalling the elevators.
When the elevator opened on his floor, Fitz moved quickly through the office area making a beeline to Olivia's desk. He approached her quietly, disappointed, but not surprised when she didn't acknowledge him. "Liv, can we talk? Please."
She looked up at him, anger marring her beautiful. "What do you need?"
"We need to talk."
"You don't have time. You're supposed to meet Neil in five minutes," she replied flatly.
He held up his hands in surrender. "Just give me five minutes, please. I can explain."
"You don't have time," she said, punctuating each word. "You can't go dressed like that," she said eyeing at his apparel with disdain, "everything you need is in your closet. Stop wasting time standing here talking to me and go prepare for your meeting."
Fitz looked around, there weren't a lot of people milling about, but they weren't alone. "Do you really want to do this here, at your desk, where everyone can hear?"
"Unless you have a work related need, we're not doing anything. You're going in your office to change and then to the executive boardroom for your meeting. I will be out here, working."
"Fine, have it your way." In a louder voice, he started explaining. "I understand why you're mad, but it's not what you think."
Olivia watched in horror as the people around them turned and looked curiously in their direction. Of course, he would pick the phrase that made her seem like the jilted lover. "Your office. Now!" she snarled quietly. Fitz turned on his heels and headed into his office with a pissed off Olivia trailing behind him.
As soon as she walked into the office, he closed the door and pulled her into his embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered against her head while she struggled in his arms.
Finally breaking free, she crossed the room and looked out the window. "You don't owe me an apology. You didn't do anything to me."
He stared at the back of her head frustrated by her folded arms and closed-off body language. He needed her to turn around, to indicate some willingness to listen. "I worried you. I'm sorry. I should have had my phone nearby. I should have told you I was going to the gym this morning and would be late coming into the office."
"You don't have to check-in with me. I'm not your mother and I'm definitely not your wife," she said coldly.
"Liv, Livvie...will you look at me?" Olivia stepped closer to the window, refusing to turn around. "I read your messages. You needed me. Then you felt abandoned when I didn't call you back. You needed me and I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry. I know how that must have felt."
She whipped around to face him. "You don't know anything," she spat.
"I read your messages," he said calmly. "You were panicked, then you were scared, following that you were worried for me, then you assumed the worst and were angry, and finally you abandoned me. I'm sorry for putting you through that."
Her body language softened. "You don't have time for this. You're supposed to be in a meeting and you're not even dressed."
"They will wait or start without me. Either way, I don't care. We're not leaving this office until we've addressed what happened."
"Nothing happened. Your father called, I panicked and overreacted when I couldn't get in touch with you. There's nothing to discuss."
"What did he say to you?" he asked, his voice tender and inviting. He sat down on his office couch and gestured for her to join him.
"You should change," she huffed, sitting in the matching side chair.
He immediately noted the distance she was maintaining between them, a deliberate choice not to let him too close. "I will, in a minute, but first tell me what my father said."
"He didn't say much." Fitz looked at her expectantly, his silence inviting her to continue. "I answered the phone the way I always do and he started with the same misogynist bullshit he always does, but then he asked me to repeat my name."
"That's bullshit. You've been my assistant for four years. He knows your name," he said incredulously. "Plus, you've covered his desk. Men like him don't forget women who look like you."
Olivia's cheeks flushed with heat. She would never get used to him complimenting her. "Your apple didn't fall from his tree?"
"That's another conversation for another day. Back to your story."
"Long story short, he knows we pretended to be engaged at the Merkles' and ordered us to come to dinner tonight at their home to defend ourselves."
"Your last text message said you weren't going," he said quietly.
"I was angry when I sent that message." Fitz relaxed. "But, I haven't changed my mind. This is my job, my life. I can't be caught in a pissing match between you and your father. "
Fitz leaned forward, engaging Olivia, refusing to concede defeat so easily. "I'm not going to try to convince you to join me. I'm beyond grateful for everything you've done and I wouldn't dare impose further. You've been clear since the beginning that our agreement was for one weekend only and I respect that. However, I want to point out that you are going to be the topic of conversation tonight whether you are there or not. Don't you want to be there to represent yourself?" Fitz flashed her his trademark crooked grin and Olivia felt her insides melt.
"I thought you weren't trying to convince me to go?" A grin slowly spread across her face.
Sensing an opening, Fitz moved closer to her, staring at her intently, his brillant blue eyes boldly holding her gaze. "This is the part where I'm supposed to promise you it won't happen again. But, that's absurd. It's going to happen again and again and again. No matter how badly I wish it weren't true, there are going to be times when you need me and I can't be there for you." Olivia's eyes widened in shock at his candid admission. She leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her, bracing herself for what he would say next.
"What I can promise you is that it won't be because I'm fucking someone else. It won't be because I prioritized something or someone over you. It will be because something outside of my control happened or because something innocuous turned into something sinister. I accidentally left my phone in my gym locker at the same time my father decided to bully you. I feel horrible about it, but I feel worse that you didn't trust me. That it took you less than two hours to go from annoyed to assuming I'm fucking someone else. That's on me."
"Fitz," she interrupted, "I was frustrated when I sent that text. It was inappropriate, uncalled for, and completely unprofessional. Who you sleep with and when you sleep with them is none of my business."
"But I want it to be."
"I'm -
"Don't finish that sentence."
"What do you want me to say?"
"That we're in this together."
Olivia stood up, walked back toward the window, and folded her arms, hugging herself. "Why would you believe any promise I made?"
"Liv -"
"Don't."
Fitz exhaled in frustration and dropped his face into the palm of his hand. Without saying a word, he walked over to his closet. He removed his shoes and shirt before stepping out of his sweatpants. Curious about what he was doing, Olivia turned around just in time to catch him in his boxers. "What are you doing?"
"Getting dressed," he said, surprised she would ask such an obvious question.
"While I'm in here?"
"It's nothing you haven't already seen and enjoyed." He flashed her a devilish grin, flexing his pecs and bunching his abs, enjoying the lust-filled look that crossed her face. Olivia stifled a moan, but could do nothing to prevent her nipples from stiffening and the moisture flooding her core. Damn him. "Which tie?" he asked, holding up two from which she could choose.
"The red one." Olivia stood there, quietly contemplating her next move, while he got dressed. Once he was dressed in his shirt and slacks, she stepped in front of him, flipped up his collar, and helped him knot his tie. "Thanks," he said, resting his hands on her hips, marveling how he could almost span her waist with only one of his hands. She filled up his life so completely it was easy to forget how small she actually was. "I really was at the gym."
"I know."
"You do?"
"Yes," she said, leaning toward him, inhaling deeply. "You've showered." She reached up and gently stroked his cheek. "You've shaved." Looking deeply in his eyes and smiling softly, she continued. "You're sober." Her eyes darted toward his discarded clothes. "But, you weren't dressed. I believe you."
He tightened his grip on her hips, his gaze falling to her lips. "I'm sorry."
Olivia took a steadying breath. "I'm sorry, too." She slipped from his grasp and moved to his closet, removing his suit jacket from the hanger. She helped him into his jacket and came around in front of him, smoothing his lapels. "You're all set." He tangled his fingers in her hair, caressing her cheek. "You have this meeting with Neil and then the two of you have a late lunch with Michael Goodman. After that, you have a meeting with Cyrus and Patrick. Then, you're free until dinner with your parents at seven." She walked to his desk and retrieved a couple of folders, handing them to him. "Everything you'll need is in these."
He thanked her and moved toward his office door. "Fitz," Olivia called as soon as his hand touched the doorknob. He turned and faced her. "If you want, we can ride to your parents' house together."
He was unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. "I would like that very much."
"I'll meet you here at six," she said, shaking her head at his unbridled joy.
XXXXX
Olivia was sitting at her desk when she heard the sound of approaching cart wheels. She glanced at the clock on her monitor and frowned. It was too late for the lunch cart and the afternoon mail had already been delivered. Curious about what was going on, she stood up from her seat and leaned over her desk just in time to see Stacey rounding the corner pushing a rack of clothes in garment bags. Olivia shook her head, smiling. "Fitz has you making office calls now," she said, rolling her eyes in disbelief.
"When your most loyal client calls, you answer, no matter what he asks you to do. Besides, this request was relatively benign. The worst part was finding a place to park the van."
"You should have parked in his space. He never uses it. Brian drops him off at the door. Are you here to restock his closet? He's wearing his last suit today."
"Is he in there?" she asked, nodding in the direction of Fitz's office.
"He's not back from his three o'clock meeting. You can go ahead in and get started. I'll text him and let him know you're here."
Stacey took a couple steps toward the office when she heard Olivia call her name. She turned, waiting for her to finish her statement. Olivia looked at her hesitantly, uncertain how to phrase what she wanted to say. "What you saw in New York," she started. "It wasn't what it looked like. We were -"
"You don't have to explain," she said coolly. "It's none of my business. I'm just his stylist and he's just a paycheck."
"You're more than that to him and we both know it."
Stacey looked at Olivia, a twinge of sadness in her eyes. "He made his choice and he seems quite happy with it. I hope everything works out for him." With that, she turned on her heels and entered Fitz's office, pushing the rack in front of her.
Olivia flopped back into her seat. What did Stacey mean when she said Fitz made his choice? Was being with Stacey an option? He made it seem like their relationship was casual, a couple of hook ups. Was it more? As far as she knew, Fitz was back on the prowl, a different woman in his bed every night. Whom did Stacey think he chose? She reached for her phone and sent Fitz a quick text.
Olivia: Stacey is waitin ur office.
His response came back in seconds.
Fitz: K. Wrapping up. BRT.
Less than five minutes later, Fitz walked past Olivia's desk and headed into his office.
"Fitz, wait," she called.
He turned around to face her with a big smile on his face. "Yes?"
"I need to leave around four thirty to get ready for tonight. I'll meet you back here at six. Do you need anything before I go?"
"No, I have everything I need. I'll see you tonight," he said, his eyes falling on her lips, telegraphing his desire to kiss her good-bye.
"Are you cheating on Stacey?"
"Huh?" Fitz asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "With whom, you?"
Olivia reflexively recoiled from him. "Why would you ask that? I don't have anything to do with your relationship with her."
Fitz laughed at Olivia's reaction. "Is the thought of being with me really that terrible?"
Olivia smiled softly at him, but didn't address his question. "I thought maybe you were working with another stylist. She seemed a little off today. When I asked her about it, she gave some vague answer about you making your choice and her wishing you well."
Fitz knew exactly what Stacey was referring to and was uneasy at the thought of being the topic of their conversation. She'd worked with him for years and was always professional, but he was starting to wonder if the best course of action would be to find Olivia a new stylist. Fitz shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. Olivia wouldn't need a stylist unless she decided she wanted to be with him and right now he found her impossible to read.
One minute she seemed open to the possibility of exploring things with him and the next she was hiding behind the veil of professionalism. The situation was further complicated because she refused to entertain him outside of work. In New York, thing were so easy. If he sensed she was angry, scared or confused, he was able to remain present while giving her the time and space she needed to get comfortable enough to open up and talk to him about it. Here, back in Miami, he was finding it much harder to communicate with her. He had taken on many of his father's day-to-day responsibilities while managing his own workload. Most of his day was scheduled and, when he was alone in his office, she had already left for the day. This pattern made it too easy for her to avoid him or shut him out and he robbed him of any recourse when she did. He knew she was struggling and he wanted to make things easier for her, but he couldn't bring himself to let her go, not when he wasn't convinced that was what she wanted. He just wished he knew what she wanted.
"I'm not cheating on Stacey," he assured her. "But I am keeping her waiting. If there's nothing else, I really should get in there." Feeling dismissed, Olivia nodded silently and turned her attention back to her monitor.
She spent the next ten minutes quietly completing her remaining tasks for the day. She had packed up and slipped her purse on her shoulder when Fitz's office door opened and Stacey called her name. "Will you come in here?" Stacey asked. "We need a tiebreaker."
"Of course," Olivia replied, smiling politely. She rose from her chair, smoothing her dress before walking into the office.
When she entered the office, Fitz spoke immediately, "Please close the door."
Olivia did as instructed and turned back to him. "Stacey said you needed me," she said timidly, still a little shy from feeling dismissed earlier. She was looking around the room, trying to avoid making eye contact with Fitz, when her eyes fell upon the rack of clothes in the middle of the floor. Some of the items had been removed from the garment bags and she could tell that it was a mixture of men and women's clothing. "What's all this?" she asked.
"My way of apologizing."
"An apology dress to wear to dinner with your parents?" she asked, careful to keep her voice neutral in front of Stacey. The king of surprises was already out of tricks.
"N-no. Y-yes." Fitz stammered.
"Well...which is it?" Olivia asked with a smirk.
"The dresses are for you to choose from for dinner with my parents, but they're not my apology. These are," he said, handing her a Christian Louboutin shoebox.
Olivia carefully removed the lid and pulled away the white tissue paper to reveal the sexiest pair of black strappy high-heeled sandals she'd ever seen. Fitz watched her carefully as she gasped in admiration and slight shiver ran through her body. "I think I just had my first shoe orgasm." Fitz looked at her with lust-darkened eyes, picturing her wearing only those shoes as her body quivered beneath him.
Before he could respond, Stacey interjected. "I had the same reaction when I picked them up."
"Don't you mean picked them out?"
Stacey turned in Fitz's direction. "That was all him. I just retrieved them from the boutique."
Olivia's eyes found Fitz and he blushed when she offered, "These shoes scream 'come fuck me' in three different languages."
Momentarily forgetting they had an audience, Fitz responded without filter. "Yes, but can you?" he asked in a sexy, husky voice.
Her eyes locked with his and he watched with tortured pleasured as she transformed from innocent to seducer. She licked her lips and parted them slightly, carefully watching his breathing become labored as wicked arousal claimed his body. When she was sure he was ready to explode, in a silky, seductive voice she asked, "Do you prefer vieni a fottermi," the latter part spoken in a flawless Italian accent, "or veins me baiser?" spoken in a rusty French accent.
The sexual tension that simmered in the room came to a boil as Fitz's arousal become obvious, unavoidable, and urgent. He pushed himself off the desk and made a move toward Olivia when he was frozen in place by the sound of Stacey clearing her throat. Both Fitz and Olivia quickly turned their attention to her in unison, shocked and surprised to find that she was still in the room. Looking incredibly uncomfortable, Stacey said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just need you to look at the suits and for Olivia to select a dress and I'll get out of your hair."
Fitz flashed her an apologetic smile, discreetly adjusting himself the best he could. "I'll take everything. Just put it in the closet, while Liv makes her decision."
Ignoring her body's frustrated screams, Olivia placed her shoes on the chair and walked over to the rack. She flipped through the options, rejecting dress after dress. They were all dowdy, unflattering, and uninspired, more suitable for a woman twice her age than for her. Unlike her first experience, where she felt like she and Stacey really connected, none of the dresses were remotely close to her style and she was frankly surprised Stacey was willing to put her name on any of these looks. Dismayed by the options she quipped, "Am I meeting his mother or turning into his mother. A potato sack with a turtleneck and long sleeves would be more attractive."
"That's what I told him."
Olivia's head snapped toward Fitz. "You told her to dress me like this? How could the man that gave me those," she said gesturing to the shoebox resting on the chair, "expect me to wear one of these?"
"Liv -
"Stop, just stop. I'm not your Madonna or your whore. Keep the shoes and the dresses. I don't need your gifts. I'll wear my own clothes," she said, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. "I'll be back at six."
The whiplash in her sudden change in mood left Fitz puzzled and dizzy. Olivia went from sizzling hot to subzero temperature in a matter of minutes. He was struggling to keep up with her, uncertain if she wanted to kiss him or slap him from one moment to the next. Would it always be like this with her or was her volatility the product of her indecision? Was her reaction really about the dresses? Yes, he instructed Stacey to select more conservative attire, but he hadn't intended to offend Olivia. Everything about her aroused him. Tonight was the first time they would be together outside of work in over a month and he just wanted to make it through dinner without dragging her into the nearest closet or bathroom. For a couple of hours he just needed her to be less her so he could find a way to resist her.
"Olivia, wait," Stacey called. She stopped walking and turned to face the stylist. "I think I have some more suitable options in these garment bags," she offered, gesturing toward the two bags on the couch. Olivia had somehow overlooked them when she was avoiding Fitz. "Plus, I found the perfect dress for those shoes." Olivia looked at her uncertainly. "Don't blame him. I'm the stylist and I picked the dresses. It's my job to push back against his bad fashion decisions. He's just nervous about dinner and I'm sure he was just trying to protect you from his father's roaming eyes and hands. You're gorgeous, even dressed in a potato sack with long sleeves and a turtleneck. We just need to make you a little less tempting. Trust me; I have two perfect dresses in here. One for your inner Madonna and one for your inner whore, neither of whom belong to him."
"Two perfect dresses?" Olivia asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Have I ever let you down before?"
"We haven't known each other that long."
"Come, let me wow you."
Fitz rose from his desk and walked toward the door. Stacey looked up, but Olivia remained focused on the new dresses. He mouthed 'thank you' to his friend and she mouthed 'you owe me in response'. "Clearly I'm not needed here. I'll leave you ladies alone. Olivia, feel free to get changed in here. I'm going to talk to Cyrus. I'll be back in an hour."
"I'll take good care of her. She'll be ready for you in an hour," Stacey replied. Fitz paused in the door, waiting for Olivia to speak. When she didn't, he quickly made his exit in search of Cyrus.
XXXXX
Olivia walked out of the bathroom wearing a sleeveless black floral lace sheath dress with a pair of caged Louboutin booties. Her look was a compromise between her usual bolder, sexier style and the more conservative style Fitz needed to get through dinner with his parents "You look beautiful," he said, opening his arms to her. She hesitated, uncertain what to do. "It's after five and the door is locked. No one is going to see us. It's okay...unless you don't want me to touch you."
Her eyes softened at the vulnerability in his voice, turning into warm, chocolate puddles. She wanted him to touch her, but she was afraid of what would happen when she was once again in his arms. Their day had been a roller coaster or emotions and she was uncertain how her body would respond to him. She hated feeling like this, so stereotypically female. She was normally a decisive woman, but, with him, she found herself reacting rather than acting. Deciding to trust herself with him, she walked toward him slowly. "Fitz..." she exhaled his name like a plea. "You think it's easy for me to see you every day and deny myself something I want so desperately?"
"If you want me and I want you, why are we torturing ourselves by not being together?"
Olivia stopped when she was standing in front of him. She looked up at him expectantly and wrapped her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes and sighed with relief when she felt his arms encircle her waist. "I couldn't bear to be touched by you, go home, and be touched by him."
"There's a solution to that problem." She pressed her hands against his chest as he pulled her closer.
"It's not that simple. He hasn't cheated, he's not abusive, we're not having financial difficulty, we don't even fight. He just..."
"He just doesn't make you happy."
"Whose fault is that?"
"Was that rhetorical or do you want me to answer?"
"It was rhetorical, but, please, share."
"You both are to blame. It's his fault because he doesn't love you enough to discover what makes you happy or to listen when you try to tell him. And, it's your fault because you don't insist that he prioritize your happiness."
Olivia exhaled loudly, moving closer to him. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Expose the truths I'm trying to hide." She looked away, embarrassed by her own transparency.
He touched her chin and gently tilted her face toward his. "It's my superpower. I'm like Wonder Woman with her lasso of truth." Olivia chuckled softly and relaxed into his embrace. "Seriously, I pay attention to you. I listen to you. I watch the expressions on your face. I want to know what makes you happy or sad or moan," he said, dipping his head to nuzzle at the sensitive spot on her neck that caused her make that sound he loved. He pulled away and looked down at her, adoration sparkling in his eyes. "I think we can make each other happy without sacrificing our individual happiness. I know you're scared and I wish I knew how to make you feel safe, how to convince you that choosing you and your happiness doesn't make you a terrible person."
"Choosing me or choosing you?"
"I believe if you choose you, you will choose me." He pulled her tighter into his embrace and, since that's where she wanted to be, she didn't fight him. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing in her scent, his beautiful face full of pained longing. "I've missed you."
She giggled softly, leaning into him. "You see me almost every day." Her fingertips brushed the nape of his neck, creeping into his hair. "How can you miss me when I'm right here?" she asked in a sultry tone, looking up at him through her lashes, tempting him, drawing him into her.
She was fucking irresistible. "I've missed us," he whispered, his lips mere millimeters from hers. "I've missed holding you, touching you, kissing you. You're all I've been able to think about. Wondering if you miss me the way I miss you or if you are happier without me?"
Happier without him? Did he really think that was possible? In a few short weeks, he'd awakened desires and dreams within her that she'd neglected for so long, parts of her that she had convinced herself no longer existed. He was like a relentless ocean wave slowly eroding away her defenses until she was left exposed and vulnerable. She nervously licked her lips, her pink tongue darting out and brushing against his lip. He released a low growl. Gently cradling her face, he lowered his lips slowly and brushed them softly against hers. Her body hummed in anticipation of what she knew was to come.
Fitz drew away briefly, opening his eyes to catch a glimpse of the desire etched on her beautiful face. He nibbled gently at her bottom lip before fusing their mouths together again. His fingertips traced along her cheeks, as his tongue begged for entry. Olivia gasped in pleasure and he took advantage of the opening to plunder her mouth, teasing and tasting every nook and cranny. With his free hand, he traced a path down her back, around her waist, and down the curves of her butt, savoring the feel of her body, soft and warm against his. In response, her small, delicate hands slid inside his jacket and stroked his back, melding her body into his. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of her. Being close to her changed something for him, filling him up with a happiness he'd never experienced before.
They were so close Olivia could feel his heartbeat pounding like a jackhammer against his chest and into hers. She leaned into him, yearning for the connection, needing to feel all of him, her thigh grinding slowly against his throbbing erection. A groan rumbled deep in Fitz's throat as he broke their connection to kiss a trail down her neck, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of her sensitive skin. Her head fell back and his name slipped from her lips in a lusty moan. She clung to him helplessly, her traitorous body succumbing to his desires as she felt her own come alive. Her breaths came in short, quick pants; her nipples tightened and hardened; her skin tingled under his touch; and a warm, throbbing pressure built in her core.
Fitz's lips found their way back to hers. He smiled against Olivia's mouth when he felt her tremble as he slid his hand under the hem of her dress, gently running his fingers along the inside of her soft, but toned thighs. Oh, how he longed to make love to her, to lift her into his arms and bury himself inside her, to pound into her until she begged for her release. He dragged his fingers over the damp silk that separated him from her core, slipping his fingertips beneath the edge of her thong with the intention of pulling them down her legs. "Fitz," she cried, her voice a needy whine as she pushed away from him.
Fitz stilled his hands, resting them on the fleshy part of her hips. Chuckling softly, he dropped his face to the crook of her neck. "I'm not sure if that's stop or don't stop," he whispered in her ear.
Olivia took a step backwards, sighing as his hands slipped from beneath her dress. "We have to stop." Trying to gather her composure, she ran her fingers through her hair, smoothed her dress, and wiped the edges of her mouth. "I'm sure your mother already hates me. I can't meet her for the first time looking freshly fucked." She slipped her hand in Fitz's inside pocket, removing his handkerchief and using it to wipe the stain of her lipstick from his lips.
When she was finished, he spoke. "My mother doesn't hate you. She doesn't know you and, once she meets you, I'm sure she will adore you, just like the rest of us. You're infectious, remember?"
"That's me. A real life Typhoid Mary," she said, smiling sarcastically, walking toward the bathroom.
"Can I have them?"
"Have what?" she asked turning back to him, genuinely perplexed by his question.
"Your panties," he replied unabashedly, grinning wickedly at her.
"You're a pervert," she said as she slipped her hands underneath her dress, pulling down her panties. She stepped out of them and tossed them in Fitz's direction before disappearing into the bathroom
Fitz stepped forward to catch them. "Says the woman who literally just threw her panties at me," he called after her. He brought the silky garment to his face, inhaling deeply, before tucking it in his pocket. Looking down at the erection bulging in his pants, he groaned loudly. Something had to give and soon because he didn't know how many more cold showers he could handle.
Ignoring him, she called from the bathroom. "Give me a minute to freshen up and then I will be ready to leave. Will you call Brian and let him know we'll be ready in ten?"
"I thought we would go in your car. I'll drive us to my parents and then I'll drive you home after dinner. Brian will meet me at your house and drive me home."
"I'm not trusting you to drive my car," she teased. "I'm not sure you have a driver's license."
"I'll make you a deal, you let me drive and, if I wreck your precious car, I'll buy you a new one."
"What happens if you wreck me? I'm not as easy to replace."
"You can trust me. You're safe with me."
"Somehow I doubt that," she said in a sultry voice, emerging from the bathroom. "I'm fairly certain you're just waiting for the perfect opportunity to take advantage of me."
Their eyes met and she felt the air rush out of the room, the intensity in his blue eyes making it difficult for her to breathe. Her eyes darted away from his. "You can't look at me like that when we get to your parents' house. If you look at me like that, your mother will know."
"My mother will know what?"
"She'll know that we're pretending and she will definitely hate me."
"Who exactly are we pretending to be this time?"
Olivia approached him and intertwined her fingers with his. "It's not who we're pretending to be. It's who we're pretending not to be." Stretching up on her tiptoes, she kissed him softly on the lips, pulling away before he could deepen the kiss.
Fitz smiled down at her before wrapping her tiny body in his warm embrace. "So, you admit there's something to hide?"
"I've tried to ignore this - whatever this is that's growing between us - but I can't. No matter what I do, it's not going away. I come to work and I feel alive and free. Then, I go home and I try to be the person I was, but I feel trapped. There's this disconnect between who I am and who I'm supposed to be. The only time I feel like I'm being honest with myself is when I'm with you."
"What does that mean for us?"
"I don't know and that terrifies me. I'm not sure I can do this, but I'm also not sure I can not do this."
Fitz heard the anxiety creeping into her voice. He pulled her close and kissed her on her forehead. "Shhh," he murmured into the top of her head. "I didn't mean to pressure you. Nothing has to be decided today. In fact, it's better if you don't make your decision today." Olivia looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't think I could make it through dinner pretending to only be your boss if I knew you wanted more."
He leaned down so his face was even with hers and kissed her sweetly on the lips. Dropping his hands to her waist, he said, "We should go. We don't want to be late." Olivia nodded quietly, willing herself not to react when her body lost contact with his. "One question before we go," he said. Olivia looked at him, but remained quiet, waiting for him to ask his question. "Are you commando under that dress?"
Olivia released a full-throated melodic laugh. "You really thought I'd go to dinner, with your parents, sans underwear. You really are a pervert."
He shook his head, laughing. "Have I ever claimed differently?" he asked with a shrug, flashing her a brilliant smile. "If you're ready," he said, gesturing to the door. Olivia nodded in reply, grabbing her Prada purse and Louboutin shoes from the chair. "Ladies first," he said, opening his office door and ushering her through it.
A/N: So, what did you think? Are you ready to meet Gerry and Anne Grant? Will they see through our tortured couple or will Fitz and Olivia be able to pull off the "we're just colleagues" routine? How long before Olivia stops fighting and gives into her feelings for Fitz? What, if any, consideration does she owe her husband? As always, I love to hear your thoughts – good, bad, and otherwise. I'll be back in a week.