I am sorry it's taken me so long to post another chapter. This is harder and definitely more time consuming than I thought it would be. I would also like to apologize in advance for the story moving so slowly. It will get better.

Martha's Vineyard, July 2013

X

The big white air conditioned tent on the front lawn of the Oaks Bluff home of Mr. and Mrs. (Carolyn) Hayes Andrew Wright Senior began to fill before the sit down dinner scheduled for six o' clock. Several family members and friends had come to celebrate the wedding of their son Harrison Elliott, to Veronique Marie DuPree. The couple had chosen to host a rehearsal dinner for all of their invited guests. Several circular tables had been covered in white linen cloths and topped with hessian table runners, candles and floral centerpieces. There were long tables on each side of the room covered with cheese and exotic fruits, huge bowls of fresh salads, and cold seafood to keep the guests occupied until the main course and dessert. Several waiters in white jackets walked through the crowd offering trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne. There was also a DJ and a band from the mainland, they would also provide music entertainment at the reception the next day. The wedding was scheduled for nine the next morning, so the party would end at eleven.

An exhausted Fitzgerald Grant stood near one of the many open bars stationed throughout the tent, observing the well heeled, well connected and well dressed crowd. He had taken a six and a half hour flight from Seattle to the Vineyard the previous evening and had arrived after five that morning. Grant North America had recently broken ground on a new state of art facility for a worldwide aerospace company in Seattle that Fitz had designed, and he needed to be on site to make sure that everything was going according to specs. His last meeting had gone on a little longer than expected, pushing back his departure time by three hours. When he finally boarded the private jet, it was after eleven o' clock in the evening on the east coast. He couldn't let his friend down and miss his wedding, so he had flown all night to make it on time. His hectic schedule didn't allow for much socializing, but for Harrison, he made the time.

The plane landed at almost five in the morning at a very quiet and deserted Martha's Vineyard airport. There was a car and driver waiting to take Fitz to his family's summer compound in Tisbury. His grandfather had built the original structure, which sat on seventeen and a half acres, in 1950. Over the years a carriage house over the three car garage, pool, pool house, tennis court, four two-bedroom guest houses, one for each of his sons, and a private boat dock, which housed My Ivey, the sailboat named for his late grandmother, had been added to the property. Fitz rarely visited the home or the island because his career kept him very busy.

The staff had been alerted of his pending visit and had prepared the house. Fitz was happy and relieved that none of his family would be there this weekend and he would have the entire house to himself. He walked through the front door of the main house and took it in. This was where he spent every summer as a child. There were memories everywhere but he was too tired to take a trip down memory lane. Turning, Fitz tipped the driver and then grabbed his bags, which the driver had discretely placed just inside the front door. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked into one of the guest rooms that faced the beach.

Dropping his bags on the bench at the foot of the bed, Fitz emptied his pockets of loose change, his cell phone and leather wallet on a side table and headed towards the en suite bathroom. He brushed his teeth, showered and after drying his body returned to the bedroom and laid across the crisp sheets, nude, where he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Fitz recognized several faces in the crowd. There were the two well known African American CEOs from companies he held stock in conversing with a civil rights attorney who he had seen all over the news recently. He caught one of the CEOs attention and the two men tipped their snifters. A group of women were gathered around a very popular plastic surgeon whose face was plastered all over city buses in New York City, advertising his new reality show, and at least three FOOs. (Friend of Obama) Of course many of those in attendance recognized Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. His family had been credited with the creation of several major real estate projects around the world and his architectural designs were in high demand. His mother sat on several boards and co-chaired a few committees for charities that were dear to her, in New York City. She usually roped Fitz into attending their many fundraisers and galas which were also attended by several of the people in this large tent. Having met several members of Harrison's family and many of his friends, the guest list did not surprise him.

Fitz smiled as he thought about his confident, smart and gregarious friend. The men had met not long after the young Harvard Law graduate had joined GNA as a member of the company's in-house counsel. They'd stepped onto the elevator and laughed when they noticed they were both wearing the same pair of Sutor Mantellasi shoes. By the time the doors opened on Harrison's floor, the two men had become fast friends. They began to hang out together, enjoying all of the perks that came with being single, sexy, handsome and rich in New York City.

That is why no one was more surprised than Fitz when Harrison told him he was getting married. This was news, especially since he never seemed to be serious about any woman and certainly nothing that would lead to marriage. But when he was introduced to Veronique DuPree, he knew why Harrison was ready to settle down and marry the federal prosecutor. Veronique was intelligent, elegant and stunningly beautiful.

She had everything Fitz was looking for in the women he'd dated over the years. As a teenager and in his early twenties, it had been sex. But as he matured he realized sex was only one aspect of a satisfying relationship. It was important, but not as important as communicating with each other out of bed.

Fitz had dated more women than he could remember, but hadn't met the woman that made something inside him go off like an alarm saying, "don't let this one go or you'll regret it for the rest of your life." He never took a date with him to a wedding because he didn't want to send the wrong message. He wasn't anti-marriage or commitment-phobic. It was just that he hadn't found that certain someone, a woman who complemented him. He also wasn't actively looking for someone with whom he could spend the rest of his life, but that didn't mean he wasn't keeping his options open for a casual relationship.

He had just turned to order another drink, when his attention was momentarily diverted. His eyes were fixed on the gorgeous woman who had just walked in on the arm of Garrett Davis. His fiancée. He'd met Garrett at Harrison's bachelor party in Las Vegas which he had co-hosted with Harrison's older brother, Hayes. Fitz had actually liked the guy and had spoken with him at length, but he was surprised when Garrett mentioned that he was engaged to the groom's cousin, especially after listening to some of things he'd said and observing his frat boy antics at their private parties and the clubs. Some of it bordered on disrespectful, especially for a man engaged to be married. But Fitz wasn't one to judge and according to the slogan, "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." He was still curious about the woman who had agreed to become Garrett Davis's wife.

The couple was immediately swept up in greetings and hugs from several partygoers as they walked further into the room. Fitz raised his glass to his lips to take another sip of the smooth liquor as his gaze took in everything about her in one penetrating glance. She was tiny. Petite. She wasn't more than five feet four inches without heels. The strapless white dress ended several inches above the knee, clinging to and outlining the curve of her full breasts, narrow waist and slim hips. On her feet she wore strappy gold wedge sandals which were at least four inches. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun which was held in place by chopsticks. She was casually chic. Staring at her, Fitz experienced an emotion he hadn't felt in years: lust. He was actually lusting after another man's fiancée.

They continued to walk over to a table where several people were engaged in an animated conversation. Everyone greeted the young couple as Garrett pulled out a chair to seat his fiancée. He lowered his head so he could hear what she was saying above the music before turning and heading towards the nearest bar. A smile of recognition filled his face when he saw Fitz.

"Fitz Grant, it's good to see you man," he said as he extended his hand in greeting. Fitz laughed and shook his hand.

"It's good to see you again Garrett, although this place is a bit more laid back and definitely quieter than Vegas."

Both men laughed before Garrett turned to place his drink order.

They engaged in light conversation while the bartender fixed his drinks.

"So have you been on the island long, because we missed you on the course this morning." he asked.

"No, I arrived early this morning from Seattle, and spent most of the day adjusting to Eastern Standard Time."

"Is that your way of saying you slept most of the day away?" Garrett asked as Fitz laughed, shaking his head.

When the bartender placed Garrett's drinks on the bar, he removed a bill from his pocket and slipped it into the tip jar, before turning to Fitz and saying, "hey come on over to our table so I can introduce you to my fiancée and our families."

Garrett turned to walk away before he could answer. Fitz followed closely, casually looking about and casting a smile or nod of his head here and there to keep his mind off the next few steps, which would land him right in front of the woman who had captured his attention the moment she walked into the room.

Fitz heard the loud and boisterous laughter coming from the occupants at the table. Smiling, Garrett turned to him and said, "we're a rowdy bunch when we get together. My dad probably just told one of his very bad jokes."

When the two men approached the table all conversation ceased.

"Everyone this is Fitz Grant," Garrett said as he set a glass of wine on the table in front of the beautiful woman Fitz was trying hard to keep from staring at. "He's one of Harry's friends and he hosted a killer bachelor party in Vegas last weekend." There was a collective groan from a few people at the table, which made Fitz laugh out loud.

Starting on the opposite side of the table and calling off names, he said, "Fitz, my parents Edison and Jacqueline Davis." Mr. Davis nodded while Mrs. Davis smiled and said, "Hello."

"Maya and Eli Pope, my future in-laws and aunt and uncle of the groom," they both said hello at the same time. "Next to Eli is his daughter Cicely and her husband August."

There were more smiles and hellos.

"And this beautiful lady sitting here is my fiancée, Olivia Pope." Garrett placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled.

She angled her head and looked up at him offering him her hand and a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Hello Mr. Grant, it's very nice to meet you."

He took her small hand in his, holding it firmly before releasing her fingers and replied, "Please call me Fitz," and looking up, "it's nice to meet everyone."

Stunning. That was the word Fitz decided most accurately described Olivia Pope. Her honey brown skin had a natural glow. Naturally arching eyebrows and thick eyebrows framed a pair of mysterious, brown doe eyes. Her nose was short and rounded at the tip and her full pouty lips had him thinking impure thoughts. Everything about Olivia Pope was feminine and as close to perfection as a woman could get.

It was Jacqueline Davis' voice that broke his reverie. "Fitz, why don't you join us? We were just being entertained by my husband and his awful jokes."

Fitz politely declined, stating that he was assigned to the table with a few GNA employees from the legal department. Of course there was no way he could sit anywhere near Olivia and ignore what she was doing to him.

He spent the remainder of the cocktail hour totally entranced by Olivia Pope. He watched her as she laughed, the dimples in her cheeks on full display, and talked to a group of women at another table. He ignored all that was going on around him, studying the woman who had cast a spell over him without her even knowing it.

A flurry of activity and applause pulled everyone's attention towards the tent's entrance. The bride and groom had arrived. It wasn't long after that the waiters were directing guests to take a seat at their assigned tables, dinner was about to begin. Fitz found his place card and was more than happy to have a clear view of Olivia and her fiancé.

Fitz kept a subtle eye on Olivia over the rim of his glass, throughout the five course meal and from the center of the dance floor while he danced with an array of faceless beauties. Her every move was fluid and almost choreographed in its perfection. Her dress fit her lithe body like a glove. Damn! Every time he looked at her, his thoughts ran off in dangerous directions and his body threatened to let everyone know exactly what was on his mind.

It was during a conversation with a well know Congressman, who had approached the couple as they were leaving the dance floor, that Fitz knew all wasn't right with Olivia. He was accompanied by a beautiful woman who hung onto his arm. Fitz had paid such close attention to Olivia for the better part of the evening, that he instantly sensed her tension from the appearance of the couple. He waited to see the dimples, but the smile never came. Fitz observed her more closely, with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

After several courses, the silent and efficient wait staff cleared the tables before coffee, dessert and cordials were served. Several guests begin to make their way outside to the lounge areas that had been set up on the lawn facing Inkwell Beach. Fitz and a few other guests made their way to a somewhat secluded area that had been set up as a cigar lounge.

He was sitting in a club chair with one leg crossed over the other, holding his Cohiba Behike between his thumb and forefinger when he noticed Garrett standing off in a corner, chatting with a small group of guys, holding a highball and slyly staring at three women standing at the outside bar… one woman in particular. It was the woman who had been hanging onto the Congressman for dear life earlier. If Garrett was outside, that meant Olivia was inside alone and it finally gave Fitz the opportunity to talk to her. He was about to stand when Hayes walked up to him.

"Hey Fitz, how are you? You okay?" he asked before taking a seat in the empty chair next to him.

"I'm good Hayes. This is exactly what I needed after a long, hectic week," Fitz replied, before taking another drag from his premium cigar.

The men sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

"Garrett introduced me to his parents and his fiancée." Fitz said. Both men glanced over at Garrett who was still standing with his friends but they had now been joined by the women they'd been staring at earlier and Garrett was now leaning down, whispering into the Congressman's date's ear.

"So you met Liv." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, along with your aunt, uncle, cousin and her husband. She didn't say much though." Fitz stated.

"Not surprised, since Garrett usually does all of the talking. It's been that way since they've been together."

Fitz detected a hint of indignation and pushed.

"I think something may have been bothering her." He wasn't about to mention her reaction to the Congressman and his date earlier, but he now suspected that their presence, especially the woman's, may have been the reason.

"Probably. I honestly don't know what she sees in the guy. We were all surprised when they started dating again, after being apart for so long."

Fitz knew it was wrong to pump Hayes for information but he wanted to know if that relationship was as solid as it appeared.

"How long have they been together?" he asked.

"From what I remember, they got serious in their senior of high school. He was her escort at her debutante ball and they dated all through college, even though he was in Atlanta and she was in New Jersey."

Hayes gave Fitz a wry smile after his last statement but continued to speak.

"I mean we all grew up together and our families have been friends for long as I can remember. But he was the last guy I thought she'd marry. His dad and Uncle Eli have been best friends since their undergrad days at Morehouse and I think even they have misgivings about the two of them getting married. Of course Uncle Eli loves his "baby girl" too much to make an issue of it."

Fitz took a sip of his scotch but didn't comment on this last bit of information.

"She doesn't need him. Olivia would be a gift to any man, but only if he isn't intimidated by her intelligence. She's always had a spark and zeal for life, but lately man, I don't know, it hasn't burned as bright. It briefly returned last night at dinner when she announced that she's being considered for partner at her law firm. If she's recommended, she'd be the youngest partner in the firm's history. Beauty, brains, she's got it all. And Garrett Davis doesn't deserve any of it. Harry, Cissy and I have told her over the years that he's not the marrying kind. You want a good time, he's your man. You want a Tiffany setting and registered china, look somewhere else. I think she may have mentioned that to him and that's why he finally proposed. But she's happy, so we're all happy." The last part of that statement was said with no enthusiasm.

Draining his glass, Hayes stood and announced that he was going to go inside and look for his date. But before he walked away, he looked Fitz in the eye and said, "don't think I don't know what you were doing. She's engaged and she's happy." He knew he didn't need to say more.

Fitz nodded his head in understanding and took another drag of his cigar.

A few minutes later the woman who had occupied his thoughts all evening appeared to float out of nowhere. She had wrapped a light shawl around her arms to fend off the cool night air, and carried a glass of wine. Fitz's gaze followed her until she settled on a couch away from the other guests.

She was staring out at the dark beach, a slight frown marring her beautiful face, when Fitz walked up.

"May I refresh your drink, Miss Pope?"

Olivia turned with a start, but all traces of her earlier distress were masked by her public face. She stared into his questioning eyes. Her stomach fluttered. "Mr. Grant, it's not polite to sneak up on people."

"Fitz," he corrected, "and I didn't sneak up on you. You were just too lost in thought to notice me."

She cleared her throat and looked down at her half empty glass.

"No, thank you…Fitz. As much as I'm enjoying this 1982 Lafite, my day starts very early tomorrow and I don't want to be the bridesmaid with the bloated and puffy face, walking down the aisle." She emitted a small, light laugh.

Fitz's eyes widened in surprised. He knew it was an excellent vintage but he wasn't really a big fan of wine.

"You know your wines," he said.

She glanced up at him before turning back to look out at the beach and responding, "I developed my passion from my father. It's been a hobby for a few years now, I'm still training my palate." She was rambling because this man made her nervous.

Fitz moved to sit in a chair near the couch Olivia currently occupied.

"May I?" Olivia looked up to see what he meant, and nodded her approval.

The soft sensual scent of her floated to him, momentarily clouding his thoughts. His eyes settled on her profile and he realized that he'd never seen a woman with such flawless skin. It seemed to radiate with a vitality that was magnified by her sculpted high cheekbones and large luminous brown, doe shaped eyes that could surely see into one's soul. And that mouth! What would those lush, pouty lips feel like touching his.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, feeling as if she were being undressed with the way he was staring at her.

"That was my next question to you," he said, recovering smoothly.

Olivia tilted her head in question. "I beg your pardon?"

Fitz angled his chin in the direction of the Congressman and his date, who were now standing together talking with another couple. "Congressman Woodson and his date seemed to have rubbed you the wrong way earlier," he stated casually.

Olivia turned away to look out onto the expansive lawn and the beach beyond. "Have you spent your entire evening watching me, Mr. Grant? You do know that I'm engaged to be married, right?" she asked, both flattered and defensive.

"Pretty much," Fitz responded. "And yes, I'm well aware that you're engaged Miss Pope. I met your fiancé for the first time last weekend in Las Vegas, and if I still didn't know, that big rock on your finger makes the point loud and clear," he stated, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

She glanced down at the ring, but didn't comment. It was a beautiful diamond. It was also oversized and ostentatious.

"You're very observant and blunt, Mr. Grant. Why are you out here instead of inside dancing?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Miss Pope."

"Touche, Mr. Grant."

They both laughed.

When they recovered, Fitz cleared his throat and spoke again. "You know, you'd make an excellent politician."

Olivia turned to look at Fitz quizzically. She smiled, displaying those dimples for the first time in hours. "Why is that?"

"You have a knack for evading direct questions."

"What do you mean?" She asked softly.

"You skillfully avoided answering me about David Woodson. He seemed to have upset you earlier." He smiled sheepishly. "I couldn't help but notice."

"Well some things are better left unsaid," she answered quietly.

Olivia wasn't about to admit to him that he was partially correct. She was upset, but it wasn't because of the Congressman's presence, it was because of his date.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes until someone called her name. They turned to see her sister walking towards them.

"Hello, again, Mr. Grant. Look, Libby we're leaving in about ten minutes if you're ready to go."

Olivia stood, so did Fitz. "Okay Cissy, I'm on my way." Her sister waved at Fitz and turned to walk back towards the tent.

"Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Grant," she said with a smile. I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend. Excuse me." She turned to leave when his voice caught her mid-stride.

"Fitz," he said, with that crooked smile that could make a woman do the kinds of things she'd only fantasized about.

Glancing at him over her shoulder, she smiled in acknowledgment, then quickly walked away, following her sister and disappearing inside the tent.

Fitz stood staring after her, long after she was gone. He was conflicted. She was an engaged woman. Off limits. He knew he should stay the hell away from her, but he couldn't. He saw something he wanted, and there weren't many things Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III wanted that he did not get.