Olitz
Things between Fitz and Olivia had gone from quiet and secretive, to openly thrust into every home in America overnight. Celebrity reporters had quickly caught on to the cute name the public had given them and used it daily when reporting about their whereabouts. Olitz. Respected television reporters used it everywhere except when they were on the air.
Now that their relationship was public, everyone wanted to see them. Wanted to know everything about America's perfect 'it' couple. Most of the press was positive, happy to see that the nation's leader was living her life after loss, and had found happiness with someone new. Someone well respected, educated, and informed on something other than himself. Someone like able even.
But there were those who found it their joy in life to be negative, picking apart every aspect of the seemingly new thing. They didn't like that they had worked on a campaign together. Or that he had been friends with the First Gentleman. Or that he still helped the White House whenever he was needed. Their unnecessary noise was a mere whisper in comparison to the vast number of people who loudly and over joyously supported the couple.
Fitz had a sit down talk with his new associates in his Ohio hotel room to keep them in the loop. The press followed them around for Alena's campaign, but each day a few more were camped out in front of the hotel they were staying at. They would pepper questions at Fitz about his relationship with the President. His thinking was that his happy little trio might get asked about his relationship with the President, and he wanted them to have the facts so that was the only thing shared with the information hungry gossip mongers.
"By now you are all well aware of the fact that I am dating President Pope. Before the two of you were added into our little family, Huck and I kept our private lives private. Even from each other. We didn't discuss who we dated or when or why. Now though, I feel that rule has to change. For me anyways. No one else in this group needs to feel compelled to share any details of their personal life."
"Thank God." Abby whispered.
"Right." Harrison agreed quietly.
"I am discussing it with you because now that my name is out there, you might get stopped and asked about it simply because you work with me. The last thing I want is for misinformation to be spread. The press does a good enough job at distorting the facts on the regular. We don't need to add to that. And we're not going to. The fact of the matter is that Olivia and I had our first date over a month ago, but the press was not privy to it. They had no knowledge of it at all in fact. Still don't as far as I know."
"How did you manage to do that?" Abby asked as she sipped her coffee.
"I took her to the fair. We went at night and she was fairly unrecognizable. We had a great time too."
"And that was your very first date? The two of you never went out before that?" Harrison asked. Something about this seemed a little too put together in his opinion. He didn't care if his old friend had been dating the President for years. He would protect him at all costs. He would definitely protect the first female leader of the free world too. But he was curious, and this seemed like a safe space to ask his questions.
"Yes. That was our first date." Fitz answered. It was the truth. He wasn't about to tell his newly hired group the history of his relationship with Liv. It was oddly comforting to him that Huck knew everything. But it was none of Harrison's or Abby's business. They only needed to know how to move forward with the information. "I was brought on as a fixer for Ms. Pope by Cyrus Beene, her now Chief of Staff, before she even began her campaign for President. She didn't get me the job. I do not want that to be an issue. Also, I never influenced any policies she made once she became the President. I am a fixer. I fix things. But I do not fix her. Never have. Never will."
We have been friends for years and have worked alongside each other for years. Just recently we began seeing each other as something other than that. It is relatively new and because she is the President, and the first female, first black woman, I am fiercely protective. Personally and professionally. You will not get updates of my personal life unless the status changes, so don't ask. I fully expect you to answer any and all questions directed at you in a truthful straight forward manner. Do not add your assumptions or guesses or feel the need to fill in any blanks yourselves. And while I expect the press to do all of that themselves, this is my life and I intend to keep as much of it private as possible. Any questions?"
"Not from me." Harrison stated. "The two of you seem like every other couple. You're pretty boring. I kinda expected more."
"Same goes for me. Just know that whether this ends badly or the two of you get married, we've got your backs." Abby told him.
"Thanks everyone. I appreciate it. Now. As you know, I am going to head back to DC for a week. I know the three of you are beyond capable of handling things here for Alena in my absence. We will stay connected about the campaign as a team. Call me if you need anything at all. I will be doing my part from there, as well as meeting with other clients. Huck, walk with me."
When the two of them were a good distance away from Harrison and Abby, Huck reassured Fitz. "Don't worry. It sounded real."
"I wasn't gonna ask you that." Fitz told him. He was, but he wasn't going to tell him that now.
"Yea you were. They don't need to know the specifics of your personal life. Timelines and all that. You didn't lie. Stop worrying."
"I'm not worrying." Fitz told him with a scowl.
Huck simply stared at him.
"Fine. I'm worried a little bit. I don't want them saying anything to the press about Liv."
"They won't."
"How do you know that for certain?" Fitz asked.
"Because I'm going to have my own talk with them once you're gone. It'll be much scarier and more to the point."
"I thought I covered it pretty well."
"You did, Nancy. Relax. I'm just going to reiterate the importance of being a team and taking care of each other. If some old photos of things I did to people while I was in the CIA slip on the floor between us, well...that will be enough to scare the shit out of them." Huck stated without any hint of humor.
"Don't call me Nancy."
"Yea, you look more like a Becky." Huck teased.
"Shut up. Don't scare them too badly. Now that I've worked with them some, I think we've put together a pretty decent team of associates. I don't want to lose either one of them."
"That's why you're the mom." Huck informed him. "You worry too much. And you coddle them."
"What?! I do not worry about them, and I damn sure don't coddle them! I am not the mom!" Fitz hissed quietly.
"I look more like the dad than you do." Huck cupped his chin and scraped his fingers across the stubble on his face. "You've got those pretty curls and soft features."
Fitz grinned and ran a hand through the hair at the back of his neck. "You really think my curls are pretty?"
"Shut up." Huck said in a threatening tone. He always had to push it too far.
Fitz climbed into the back of a taxi as Huck watched. He pushed a button that let the window down. He couldn't help himself. Before the taxi took off he said, "kiss the kids for me."
"Asshole." Huck muttered.
The moment Fitz was in DC, he crawled into the back of another taxi and called Olivia. Her couldn't wait to see her. She answered on the third ring. His mind vaguely reminded him to be careful of what he said in the presence of the driver. "Hi."
"Wellllll, if it isn't Mr. Olitz." Olivia said with a chuckle.
The stupid grin on his face was unmistakable. "Who's fault is that?"
"If we're playing the blame game, I'll happily take the responsibility for that. One of us had to get their ass in gear and make this thing legit. Leave it to a woman to get things done."
"Your curls aren't as pretty as mine." he fired back.
"What?" she asked with a laugh.
"Nothing. Just something Huck said to me before I left."
"How is my..."
"Nope." Fitz said firmly, cutting her off. "He's not your anything. You're already in a very committed relationship with the catchiest little name in the world. It's on the tip of everyone's tongue in America."
"I need to be on the tip of your tongue. Very soon."
God love her for getting right to it. "Agreed. When can I see you?"
"Today would be nice, buuuut since you're in another state I guess I'll just have to..."
"What if I wasn't? In another state I mean?" He could hear the gears moving in her head through the deafening silence in the line. The smile on his face was automatic.
"Where do you find yourself this afternoon, Mr. Grant?" She tried to keep her voice light and uninterested, but inside she was already more excited than she probably should be.
"I could be on fifteenth street." he replied with a hint of mischief.
She inhaled sharply and a feeling of excitement came over her. "You're here? In DC?"
"I said I could be." he teased.
An excited sound came from her lips. "You are! You're here!"
"Did you just shriek?"
"I most certainly did not! I squealed."
"What's the difference?" he asked as his grin doubled.
"Ladies do not shriek. When are you coming to see me? We need to make that tip of the tongue thing happen really soon and...Oh! This is perfect!"
"Somebody is all wound up to see me."
"What? No! Not at all." She told him in a bored tone. "I have something of importance to discuss with you. I actually have a busy afternoon. I can probably fit you in around five thirty."
"Are you going to be able to fit every inch of me in at five thirty?" he asked lustfully. He knew better than to start with her, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't wait to get his hands on her now.
"Oh, I definitely will." She answered back, just as lustfully.
He was imagining it now and was getting harder by the second. His brain was shouting at him to stop with the seductive talk or getting out of the cab would be a form of public indecency. He tried to change the subject. "Uhhhh, whaaaat was the thing you wanted discuss with me?"
He sounded like he was having a hard time, and she decided to ease up on him. "There's an event."
"Yes." He said, answering the unasked question.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I'll go with you."
"You don't even know what it is, when it is, or where it's at." He was here! Her day just got infinitely better. She wondered how many things she could cancel on her schedule to spend a little more time with him.
"It doesn't matter. I'm in."
"What if there's a conflict with your schedule?"
"My work husband will fix it." he told her matter of factly.
"Your what?"
"Nothing. I'll tell you later. I'll see you at five thirty sharp. Keep that slot open for me."
"Fitz, you can't just say things like..."
He ended the call before she could throw something back at him and make his situation hard again. There would be time for that when he saw her. For now, though, he had a client to meet. The cab came to a stop in front of his office. He handed the driver a large bill, which covered the cost of the ride as well as a generous tip, and got out of the car.
Not long after Fitz arrived, a very familiar face stepped out of the elevator. He had been a famous actor once upon a time. He still played small parts on television shows as a guest, but the highlight of his career was definitely behind him. The gentleman looked nervous, but covered it fairly well as he strode confidently to the fixer and extended his hand. "Mr. Grant I presume."
"I am. Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Robert Cooper?" Fitz asked with a smile.
"Every single day." The older man replied with a chuckle.
"Let's take this into the conference room." Fitz recalled Huck's automatic attempt to make their clients feel more at home. "Would you care for some coffee or tea? Bottled water perhaps?"
The new client waved his hand back and forth. "No, thank you. At my age, too much caffeine keeps me up at night."
"Alright. Let's get right to it then. What can I help you with, Mr. Cooper?"
"Last night, I was driving my car while intoxicated. I was leaving a friend's house after a little celebrating. It was about two a.m. at the time and there weren't any cars on the road. I didn't think I was that impaired, but it became apparent to me when I got to the first stop sign. I went past the sign before I stopped. About ten feet past it."
Fitz sat silently and waited for him to continue.
"I only live ten minutes away from my friend, so I thought if I went slow, I could make it home undetected and sleep it off."
"But that's not what happened?"
"No." He felt like a jackass, telling this truth to a complete stranger, but it was going to come out sooner or later and he needed help. Professional help. I was stopped at the red light about three blocks from my house waiting for the light to change when a car pulled up beside me. I heard a bunch of noise and looked around, wondering what the hell was going on. There was a couple of guys around my age in the car beside me. They were screaming something, but I couldn't hear them because my window was up. So, I rolled it down.
They said, 'aren't you that guy from the tv show back in the day called Encompass? The one about racing cars?'
I told them that yea, that was me when I was younger and smarter. They told me that they were shooting a low budget film about street racing. Something called Night Racers and asked me if I'd be interested in being in it. The passenger even got out of the car and handed me his business card. Can you believe that?" He asked with a chuckle. "I told them no. That I was too damned old for that type of character.
Then they asked for my autograph, but I told them that it had been a long night and I was going home. They weren't happy that I wasn't complying with their request. So, they asked me to race them to the next light. They tried to convince me that it would be better than an autograph. My fuzzy head rationalized that I'd get home faster if we raced, so I agreed. They laughed and said they were going to record it on their phone for a unique memory."
"What happened?" Fitz asked.
"I beat them to the light. I blew right past it. Hell, I was so proud of myself I threw my empty bottle of beer out the window and kept on going."
"That's bad." Fitz said nodding. "Not the end of the world, but bad."
"The light was red." Mr. Cooper admitted.
"You didn't hit anyone, did you?"
"Thankfully no."
"So, what do they want?"
"They have sent an email to my agent explaining what they are in possession of, and that they will take it to the police where I will most likely get arrested for drunk driving and street racing. The cops will probably come up with other charges that could stick too. It'll ruin me, and I won't be able to film my new movie. It wouldn't be that big of a deal, but it's supposed to be my last before I retire."
"What do they want in exchange?"
"They want me to do a cameo in their short film. If I agree to do that, then they will hand over the footage they shot from their phone. I have until tomorrow morning to let them know my answer." Mr. Cooper slid a copy of the email across the table.
"What does your agent say about you doing the cameo?"
"He's more upset about the drunk driving charges and how that will affect the public image of me. I've always been really careful about it in the past. The truth is, it's been a problem for a really long time. I've just been avoiding dealing with it because I enjoy drinking and I've never hurt anyone before."
Fitz looked at the older man. He was known for being an actor, but he seemed absolutely sincere. "What would you like to see happen?"
"What do you mean? The end result?"
Fitz nodded.
"I'd like for the video to never see the light of day. I'm also big enough of a man to admit that I know I have a drinking problem, and that it might be time for me to deal with that. I'm too old for this kind of shit. I think I need...professional help with it. You know what I mean?" He felt like an absolute failure to have let alcohol consume and affect his life like it had for the past few decades. He might be at the end of his life, but he'd rather it be with a clear head and without worries of abhorrent behavior plaguing him.
"The hardest part is admitting that you have a problem so you're taking a step in the right direction, I'd say. The real question is, are you doing this because you could go to jail or because you really want to change that aspect of your life?" Fitz asked.
"I'm not allowed to see my grand kids. I may not have hurt anyone physically with my drinking before, but I am usually very mean when I drink. The day my daughter had her first baby, I went out and got drunk, and then was dropped off at the hospital where I was kicked out and told to not get in touch with her ever again.
"I see."
"So, yea. It would be nice to be able to meet my three grand kids before I die. And it would be nice for them to see me as a decent guy instead of an asshole." He bunched his hands into fists and released them on a sigh. Looking up at the fixer for the first time since he started telling his story, Robert said, "I want to stop drinking completely. I want to start in a program after I fix this nightmare with these gentlemen. Do you think you can help me?"
His mind was working in overtime, and Fitz was quiet for a few minutes. "Here's what I think we should do. You want help with your alcoholism, so I think the first step is to get you checked into a rehabilitation center. The reason I'm suggesting that you deal with that first even though the other matter is time sensitive, is because once the other problem is dealt with, you will be more likely to forget following up with the root of the problem. And I'm only going to help you with everything if you make your sobriety a priority."
"That makes sense." Mr. Cooper agreed.
"Once that part is taken care of, then we will reach out to the two individuals who claim to have the video on their phone. We'll have some conditions to discuss."
"What are those going to be?" Robert asked. He liked that this guy was calling him out on his bullshit. He would definitely have conveniently forgotten about rehab for his drinking problem once the police issue had been resolved. This fixer knew what he was doing. And he was a straight shooter about it.
"Well, for starters, you will have to agree to do the cameo in their film. They have a video of you blowing through a red light and throwing a beer bottle out of the window of your car at two in the morning. There's no way around it, unless the video doesn't exist. If it does, you have to do it.
I'll get the video deleted from the phone and the cloud so it will never see the light of day. Then, I'll get them to sign an iron clad non disclosure agreement so they can never talk about it again either. That will include the reason why you agreed to be in their film to begin with. That should keep your acting legacy in tact.
As for the film, you will not be compensated for your part in it. Instead, the directors will donate whatever amount they planned to pay you to Alcoholics Anonymous. That has several benefits. There's no link to them blackmailing you to be in their movie, they are financially supporting the very disease that caused all of this to begin with, and the organization gets a hefty much needed donation."
"Wow. You really are as good as I've heard. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome. There is still a lot to be done, but I'll reach out to these individuals immediately to get the ball rolling. The rest I'll take care of first thing in the morning and notify you with all of the details."
Mr. Cooper got to his feet and extended his arm. "I sincerely appreciate everything. I've always been the good time Charlie that everyone wants around for a laugh and a drink. Besides my kid refusing to see me, no one has ever actually tried to help me stop drinking. Thank you so much, Mr. Grant."
"I hope it works out for you, Mr. Cooper. I'll be in touch with you before lunchtime tomorrow."
Once his new client had left, Fitz made a call to a facility that he had helped others get into for substance abuse. He sent an email to the man who had reached out to his client's agent and set up a time to meet him tomorrow. Once all that was complete, it was time for Fitz to head to the White House. He locked the office door behind him, promising to leave work at work. At least while he was with Liv.
Upon arrival, he went inside and signed himself into the visitor's log, and was told to go to the Oval. He met Olivia as she was walking out of her office. "Madam President. Did you get pulled into a meeting? I can check in with you at a later time."
"No, it's fine. I've been locked in there for most of the day and I need a change of scenery. Do you mind?" Olivia asked.
"Not at all." They began walking down the hall as Secret Service followed close behind. "Where would you like to go?"
"I'm hungry."
"I get that from you a lot lately." he told her and bumped his shoulder against hers as they continued walking side by side. "You wanna hit up a Subway? Eat fresh and all that?"
"Funny. No. I thought we'd have dinner in the residence. Maybe watch a movie afterwards?"
Look at her. Dragging him to the residence to eat a meal in private and have her way with him. Watch a movie. Yea, okay! That was a cute cover story for the listening ears of the Secret Service. "Yea. Sounds fun. Do you have the movie Hitch?"
"Hitch? With Will Smith? From two thousand five? I don't know. Why?"
Fitz shrugged. "We are very similar in what we do for a living. It seems fitting. Do you have any popcorn? I can't watch a movie without it."
He was taking the movie idea a little too far. She hoped he understood that they were definitely not watching a movie. They were having sex! Energetic, hot, and very passionate sex. The two of them walked into the living room, where Olivia gave Tom and Jeffery a curt nod and closed the door in their faces. She grabbed the front of Fitz's shirt and began pulling it up from its tucked place in his pants. She looked up into his blue eyes, and naturally they were filled with mischief and he was smirking at her, not bothering to help in any way whatsoever.
"I'm out of popcorn." She informed him as she undid each white button on his shirt before opening it up to reveal his chest and splaying her hands on his warm skin. Her lips followed her hands. "Mmm, is that going to be a problem?" she asked between kisses.
He grinned down at her before she sunk to her knees in front of him and began anxiously unbuckling his belt with her quick and nimble fingers. He managed to choke out "I'll...try to make the best of it" before she wrapped those fingers around him and began sucking his hard length.
Her mouth felt like heaven on his skin as she tortured and teased, but fully pleased him. Her hands were on the backs of his legs, and she lightly kneaded the fuzzy skin there as she pulled him closer. His eyes were closed and Fitz was panting. He never wanted this ecstasy to end, but he also didn't plan on finishing like this. He had every intention of getting her sexy little body fully nude and fully aroused, and then driving himself repeatedly deep inside of her. He planned on bringing her to a somewhat loud and energetic release of her own, and then he'd follow her in orgasm. Fitz was nothing if not a gentleman.
Prying her hands from the backs of his legs, Fitz pulled her to her feet and tried not to laugh at her pouting face. "I'm sorry, but I have plans that really can't wait any longer."
Once their sexual needs had been met, it was time to refuel. They were sitting side by side in her large bed tangled up in the sheets, eating their dinner that had turned cold quite a while ago. "So, what's the news?"
"What are you talking about?" She asked, and took another bite. "This is really good cold! Maybe I'll start asking the chef to serve it cold from now on?"
"You might offend her if you do that." Fitz replied.
"How do you know my chef is a woman?" Olivia asked.
"It's my job to know all kinds of things." he told her with a grin.
"So, you know all about the place we've been invited to as our first public outing as a couple?"
Fitz stopped chewing and looked at her. "I haven't received an invitation."
"You haven't been to your house yet then, I assume?"
"I had to meet with a client at the office shortly after I got in town. Seeing you was much more important that going to my empty house. It's my next stop though. Where have we been invited?"
"The Met Gala."
"The Met Gala invited us to attend as a couple? That's a pretty big deal."
"I'm excited."
"So, we're going?"
"We're definitely going! If your schedule is open."
"I already told you I'd go. I'll make myself available."
Olivia shrieked for the second time that day.
They discussed the pros and cons of what they were doing. Neither one of them wanted to take for granted the amazing support the American people had shown to them – as individuals as well as a couple – but they wanted to be together. In the end, they opted to do just that.
Tonight was the evening of the Met Gala. It was a huge night for everyone who had been invited. It was also the Met Gala's anniversary and the theme was "About Time", taking a look back at fashion over the past one hundred and fifty years. Homes and hotel rooms all over New York were full of harried attendees getting their hair or make up done and were in various stages of getting dressed.
Every attendee but two.
Olivia and Fitz were in their hotel room, a suite in fact, but they weren't getting hair or make up done. And they weren't getting dressed. Quite the opposite, in fact. Neither one of them were wearing anything at all. They had much more pressing things to do at the moment.
Fitz thrust his hips, pressing Olivia's back into the mattress. She sighed with pleasure as her hands roamed his shoulders and easily kept up the lazy pace he had set for them.
They really didn't have time for this, but she'd insisted she had to have him before they left. Who was he to say no when she had been standing naked in front of him?
He had taken a chance and booked the large fancy suite for him and Liv to stay in the night before. Secret Service tried to be a pain in the ass about it, but he wasn't caving. They were together now, and while that most definitely meant Fitz had to do some bending, it also meant that her agents did too. He stuck to his guns and the President's protectors worked around it.
Fitz got the two bedroom grand suite at The Mark Hotel. He was a man in love, and that meant he could splurge on his girlfriend whenever he felt like it. Since their room was on the eleventh floor, Secret Service insisted that every room in the floors above and below the one the President would be staying in were empty. The hotel was beyond thrilled that she was staying with them, and complied without hesitation.
They locked eyes as their bodies continued to move in perfect harmony together. Warmth, passion, desire, and contentment were all there. But most of all there was love.
"This is nice."
"Sunshine is nice. This is so much more than nice."
"I didn't mean the sex." She chuckled. "I meant that fact that we stayed in this hotel room together last night. That we're going to get ready here together once I'm done with you. And that we're going to the freaking Met Gala together as a couple tonight, where everyone in the world will see us."
"Oh that. Yea, that's nice." He said with a grin. She was beautiful, and he had missed her while being in Ohio for the past couple of weeks. But now he was in DC for a while and he planned to spend as much time as possible with her.
"You know you love the simplicity of the every day, and that you and I get to experience it today. It's nice to see domesticated Olitz."
He pushed into her again and watched her face contort with pleasure. "I don't know how I feel about that nickname yet.. But...I do love going to bed with you, waking up next to you, and spending the day with you. One day we'll have that every single day for the rest of our lives, and I'll never take it for granted."
"I know our everyday isn't like everyone else's, but I'm not sorry."
"Don't be. I'm beyond proud that you're my President."
"I would be beyond proud if you could give me an orgasm soon." she teased.
"The Met Gala isn't going to start until you get there. I'm just making sure all the butterflies are gone so you can enjoy yourself tonight." he dipped his head and kissed her, but picked up the pace as requested.
Two hours later, the door of the unused smaller bedroom opened and Olivia stepped out from it and went into the spacious sitting area. Fitz had been watching television in his tuxedo as he waited for his date to get ready. He turned the tv off, got to his feet immediately, and gave her his full attention. "Wow! You look spectacular!"
He made a circular motion with his index finger, and Olivia smiled before turning in a circle in front of him for a more thorough inspection. "Why did you go with a gold gown? I thought red was your favorite color?"
"You don't go to the Met Gala wearing your favorite color. You go there to make a fashion statement that goes along with the theme." she explained.
Fitz nodded at her, knowing there was more of an explanation than that.
"I chose this dress because it's Presidential enough to please the people who choose my clothes, and because I feel like a fierce queen in this gown. Like a walking Oscar award or something. It's about time that a woman is President of the United States, and she doesn't look like a nineteen fifties housewife while doing so."
"Agreed. You look sexy as hell. The bare back of that dress is nothing we've ever seen on a First Lady before either. You are breaking all kinds of barriers in that gold creation. And you're making me want you again too."
She touched the corner of his tie and smiled up at him. "You look very handsome in your tux, Mr. Grant. Maybe we can find a dark corner somewhere once we get there?"
"You are going to be a fun date. I can tell." He gently touched his lips to hers and asked, "Are you ready?"
"MmmHmm. Let's go show the world what out on the town Olitz looks like."
The minute the limousine pulled up to the curb, the press knew it was the President. Pictures of the leader of the free world together with her fixer were the ones everyone was after. The continual flashes were blinding, but Fitz stepped out of the car, buttoned his jacket, and then went around to the other side and opened the door. The moment Olivia's hand was inside of his, the clicking and shouting became all consuming.
He stepped back and followed her lead. She was the one they wanted to see. He knew that, and he knew his place. Fitz was more than comfortable with it too. But then Olivia looked over her shoulder, gave him a smile, and held her right hand back. He proudly took her hand and walked beside her.
Olivia squeezed his hand, leaned close to him, and whispered, "we're in this together."
He kept his blue eyes on her brown ones as she smiled at him even bigger. They had a quick silent conversation and Fitz saw the answer to his unspoken question. He put his arm around her waist and slowly pulled her close as her hand rested against his chest. They were still wearing smiles as his head moved closer and his lips brushed across hers in a soft kiss.
The paparazzi lost their fucking minds.
"Over here!"
"This way!"
"Now that's a Presidential look!"
"Turn to the left"
"Who are you wearing?"
"The two of you look spectacular!"
"Madam President!"
"Kiss her again!"
"Oh my god!"
"Look at them!"
"You look amazing!"
"They are stunning together!"
"Olitz is everything!"
There was no mistaking the look that crossed between the two of them. The President and Mr. Grant were head over heels in love with each other, and it seemed that they were ready for the rest of the world to know.
BIG SHOUT OUT to Charlotte for doing the photo edit for this chapter. I posted it on Twitter. She is a genius! Thank you, reader for investing time in this story & for giving me feedback about it. I appreciate you so much!