A/N: Dafney64, Hold tight, all of your questions will be answered in the fullness of time. The Marla question has been answered. Monica, I like Mona because she knows a lot and can keep a secret. Guest, No rhyme or reason for the names except I am absolutely horrible when it comes to naming characters. I didn't realize I had four characters whose names all began with M until they were all in one chapter, by then it was too late to change. I can understand if the names caused confusion because I was confused too, for a while. Can you believe I almost named Jolie something like Mia? Sheesh. Kelleekellkell/Michelle, Keep your eyes on Marion over the next few chapters. Bujuman, Charlie leaked the information about Marla to the press in an attempt to undermine Fitz, but Kotch was already hot on her trail. We may never find out who the whistleblower is.
Thanks everyone for reading and let me know what you think. Here we go!
Chapter 27. The Debate
Breaking News
"Council President Marla Briggs has been indicted today on racketeering charges tied to a host of public corruption schemes", the blonde news anchor, who is showing way too much cleavage, reads from the teleprompter.
"Now let's go to the capital where State Attorney General Christopher Kotch is holding a press conference about this breaking story."
Standing behind the lectern that has been erected in front of the administration building, Kotch adjusts the microphone and clears his throat before beginning to speak.
"This office is satisfied with the Grand Jury's decision to return an indictment in the charges against Marla Briggs, president of a local City Council down state. For over 20 years, Miss Briggs has held herself out as a champion of the underprivileged and underserved. But during that time she sought to strengthen herself politically and enrich herself at the expense of the people she swore to serve. By misusing and misappropriating government funds and committing bank fraud, Miss Briggs has betrayed the public trust and undermined faith in government. Thank you", signaling the end of the press conference.
"Are there any co-conspirators?" A reporter calls out the question.
"Can we expect to see more indictments?" Another reporter yells.
"I have no further comments at this time", Kotch says, turning and walking into the administration building.
"Let's now go downtown to where Mayor Wilson is just arriving at City Hall", the news anchor reads.
The reporters have been camped outside the rear entrance of City Hall since the announcement of Marla Briggs' indictment. The crowd of reporters clamor to get a statement from the mayor as he exits the black, chauffeur-driven SUV.
"Mayor Wilson, what say you about Council President Marla Briggs' indictment?" The reporter from a local news station yells.
Mayor Wilson stops and scans the throng of reporters then looks directly in the camera.
"Under the circumstances, the charges in the indictment against Council President Briggs are deeply saddening. Council President Briggs has been a tireless and effective advocate for our city's hardworking families during her more than 20 years of distinguished service in the Council. If these allegations are true – and I mean if –then it is a sad day in politics."
"Mayor Wilson – Mayor Wilson. Did you have any knowledge of Miss Briggs' activities?" Another reporter yells.
"I knew nothing", turning quickly and walking into the building to take the elevator to the seventh floor. On the ride up to his office, Wilson wonders how many more times he will have the pleasure of taking this elevator ride.
"Turn it off Fitz, I can't stand watching it any longer."
Fitz presses the power button on the remote control and sits on the sofa next to his wife.
"I know this is hard, but –"
"Please, Fitz. I don't want to talk about it tonight", she says with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"We have to talk about it. I'm running for the office of the woman who was just indicted on racketeering charges - your friend for god's sake. The reporters are going to want a statement from me."
"What are you going to say?" Anxiously searching his face with her eyes.
"I don't know", raking fingers through his hair, now pacing around the family room. "This a goddamn disgrace. Stuff like this just proves the system is not designed for the people and by the people. It's all a goddamn illusion. And you have Marcella, Rashid, Marcus, and Jason all working their asses off trying to make a difference in their communities - at times it seems like a losing battle", shaking his head in disgust. "Public policy isn't based on the needs of the people, but the desires of special interest groups", he says in frustration.
"Fitz, more people like Marcella, Rashid, Marcus, and Jason just need to come together to organize and fight for their rights - just like what has been done in the past."
"What?"
"Fitz, the countless small deeds of unknown people laid the basis for the significant events in our history. People like Marcella, Rashid, Marcus, and Jason are the ones who've caused the change in the past and they're the ones who have to do it in now."
"Sometimes it just seems so pointless, Liv. Sometimes I wonder why I am getting involved in this mess."
"I won't give up Fitz, and I won't let you give up either. Those young activists are standing up for what they believe in -having a say in the world. That's the only way things will change."
XXX
"We told you Mr. Grant, those career politicians have been ripping off our communities for years – decades really", Rashid says angrily, pacing around the conference room at Grant Enterprises.
"Getting rich at the expense of the people they're supposed to help. I hope they all go to jail. That prosecutor should lock 'em all up – put 'em all under the jail", Jason chimes in.
"Word on the street is Wilson's going to be indicted too. He and Marla Briggs are the worst kind. They used to fight for the people who helped put them into office. Now you understand why it's hard to get people to engage in the process. They see it doesn't matter who's in office - their circumstances never change", Marcella exclaims.
"We can't let a few bad apples –"
"It's more than a few bad apples, as you say Mr. Grant", Rashid interjects. "Most of the politicians are corrupt."
"Be skeptical Rashid – not cynical. We always have to look for the truth and move on."
"Mr. Grant, a dose of cynicism is healthy because a dose of corruption exists in our society. You need the cynicism to recognize the corruption", Marcus says, finally adding his perspective.
"That's true Marcus, but you must be able to hold two ideas in your mind at the same time. Yes, we need to recognize corruption and injustice and be cynical and enraged about it, and periodically give into despair - it's only human", thinking about his conversation with Olivia last night. "But, you also need to have a sense of justice and hope and a sense of the long view - and not tilt too far to either side."
With eyes gleaming and lips curled into a slight smile, Marcus looks at Fitz, nodding his head slowly, impressed by the man's passion and oratory skills.
"Teach, Mr. Grant", Marcella shouts. "We can't give up. We have to persuade more people to get involved."
"This election is not a persuasion exercise", Jason jumps in, brushing crumbs from the corner of his mouth. "This is a mobilization exercise. It's about getting people out to vote and we do it with digital technology", turning and looking at Fitz. "Your social media accounts – Facebook and Twitter - are generating a lot of traffic, Mr. G."
"I hate texting", Fitz says and the group glance at each other.
"It's amazing the number of new followers you've gotten since the news broke about the scandal. They've all been chatting about the indictment."
"Let me see", Fitz says excitedly, looking over Jason's shoulder at the computer screen.
"People are looking for someone new, Mr. G. They also like that you've been coming to their communities and listening to them –trying to understand their issues – all the stuff that's important to them."
"Plus, the ladies think you're real easy on the eyes", Marcella says with a chuckle.
"We've been posting comments on your behalf for the past month, Mr. G. But between now and the debate we want you to personally reply to some of your followers - on both platforms."
"Wow. That sounds intriguing. So you mean I'll be able to talk with people in real time?"
"Yup", says Jason.
"OK, but you have to show me how to do it. I'm not familiar with social media."
They all turn and look at him in disbelief.
"Just show me once - I'm a fast learner", he adds quickly, realizing he said something uncool.
"Dang Mr. G, you're not that old. You should already know how to use this stuff. Give me your phone."
Fitz pulls the phone from his pocket and hands it to Jason, who immediately starts to download the necessary apps.
"But after I learn how to use it, what do I say?"
"You just share whatever is on your mind about the campaign, politics, the weather – that sort of thing. And you reply to whatever your followers are saying."
"I see."
After Jason gives him a quick tutorial on how to use Twitter, he hands the phone back to Fitz.
"Now you try it, Mr. G."
The team watch closely as Fitz methodically presses each key on the phone's keyboard, attempting to reply to a post. They look at each other and shake their heads, thinking they are going to be here all night.
"Mr. G, what are you doing?" Jason asks in exasperation.
"I'm answering a question", gingerly pressing each letter.
"Well it looks like you're writing a book. You only get 140 characters – short messages and short replies."
"One hundred and forty? Well that's not enough."
"Mr. G, you gotta learn how to use the abbreviations – talk in shorthand. I'll send a list to you."
Rashid glances over at Marcella and shakes his head, doubtful that Mr. Grant will learn how to use social media before the election is over.
"Practice posting to Twitter today and I'll show you how to use Facebook tomorrow", not wanting to overwhelm the man. "And by the way, I set you up on Instagram as well", Jason says, closing his laptop."
"What's Instagram?"
Marcus closes his eyes and shakes his head.
XXX
Engrossed in learning how to use the new apps to chat with people Fitz has lost track of time. He did not realize he has been online for almost three hours until he looks up and sees dusk is beginning to settle over the city. As a novice to social networking, Fitz does not realize he is not supposed to reply to every comment his followers make, but that is what he has been doing since he returned to his office. Shaking his head, he puts the phone into his pocket and grabs his jacket from the suit valet situated near the door. He needs to get home before the girls go to bed.
Pulling on his jacket as he walks quickly down the hall and sees light streaming from the main conference room. He crinkles his brow, wondering who is still in the conference room at this time of night. When he peeks into the room, he is surprised to see Marcus sitting at the mahogany conference table in the dimly lit room reading a book.
"Marcus, I didn't realize you were still here. I thought everyone left hours ago."
"The others left a while ago, Mr. Grant. I just stayed behind to finish up a few things. How's the tweeting going?" Slowly closing the thick book on the table in front of him, which does not go unnoticed by Fitz.
"It's amazing. My followers have so much to say. I'm still learning how to use the vernacular, including hashtags", shaking his head as he walks over to Marcus.
"You'll get the hang of it - it's not difficult at all. The more you do it, the better you'll get."
"I guess", picking up the heavy book Marcus subtly closed. "I didn't know you were in law school", looking at Marcus in surprise.
"You never asked", and Fitz nods.
"Law school is a significant commitment. How do you find the time to go to school full time, serve the community, and work on my campaign?"
"I'm committed to doing all three, Mr. Grant."
"So what year are you?"
"I have one year left, Mr. Grant."
"Pretty grueling. I remember the long nights of studying. So what are your plans after you graduate?"
"Get a job", and they both laugh.
"I hope you don't mind me studying in here, Mr. Grant. It's nice and quiet here at night ", glancing around the space with a slight smile. "I can get a lot done after everyone has left."
"Not at all. Stay as long as you like and use whatever you need."
"Thank you, Mr. Grant."
"And Marcus, let me know if you need anything."
"Thank you, Mr. Grant."
"Good night, Marcus."
As Fitz walks to his car he wonders what else he does not know about his young advisers. Only recently he learned Jason is a computer whiz and tonight he learned Marcus is in law school. He makes a mental note to learn more about the people who are working tirelessly to get him elected.
XXX
When Marcus Davidson first met Fitzgerald Grant at the Springfield Heights community center he was not impressed. The man dressed casually, usually wearing a sports jacket, a pair jeans, and a white shirt. Half way through the lecture the jacket was discarded and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms. He looked more like a college professor than the famous negotiator Marcus learned who he was after Googling him. And months later when Marcus and his friends stepped off the elevator in the glassed encased building where Grant Enterprises is located, his impression of Fitzgerald Grant changed quickly. The offices of Grant Enterprises looked like something from the pages of Architectural Digest magazine. It looked like the kind of place he always dreamed of working.
XXX
When Fitz finally arrives home all of the lights on the first floor are off except the under-counter lights in the kitchen. He goes into the kitchen, turns off the lights, and then climbs the stairs to check on his girls. Slowly pushing open the slightly ajar door to Cena's bedroom, he smiles when he sees she is curled into a ball and Biker Princess is dangling from her hand. He sets the toy onto the nightstand, kisses the sleeping girl's forehead, and quietly creeps from the room to check on Jolie. He shakes his head when he sees Jolie has once again kicked off her covers. He wonders if she gets too hot as he pulls the pink and white blanket with the fringed edges over her chest. He kisses her forehead and quietly walks from the room and down the hall to their bedroom.
"Where have you been? You said you would be gone for about an hour", Olivia says as she finishes her nightly routine of slathering on her favorite body butter.
"At the office", crawling across the bed and pecking her on the cheek. "Look at this Liv", pushing the phone in her face.
"Fitz please", turning her head and pushing the phone away from her face. "Too close."
"You gotta see this, Liv. I'm on Twitter. Do you know what that is?" He asks, looking down at the screen as he slowly types another reply.
"Of course I know what Twitter is Fitz", she says with indignation.
When his phone pings, Fitz gets really excited.
"That's someone replying to what I just wrote. The immediacy is amazing, Liv."
"Well, I'm going to bed now. You better be careful what you post. Don't put any personal stuff out there", she says tiredly. "And don't get addicted."
XXX
Before crawling out of bed to get Cena and Jolie ready for the day, Olivia looks over at her sleeping husband, whose phone is pinging on top of his chest. Picking up the phone to read some of his tweets, she wonders how long he was online last night. After reading a few of his posts, she sets the phone back onto his chest and gets up to prepare breakfast for the girls.
"How about a special breakfast of pancakes this morning, Cee?"
"Yay", clapping her hands. "May I make a happy face, mommy?"
"Yes you may", opening the refrigerator to retrieve the container of sliced and diced fruit.
"JoJo can't eat panny cakes mommy", pushing Biker Princess across the island top and around Jolie's carrier.
"Not yet", Olivia says, setting the container of fruit on the island next to Cena.
"JoJo can't do anything mommy."
"Not yet. She's only four months old so it's going to be a while before she starts to talk or walk."
As Cena designs the fruit face on the top pancake, her tired and disheveled father drags into the kitchen.
"Daddy look, I'm making your happy face."
"That's nice Princess", he says tiredly, walking over to the coffee maker to get his first of many cups of black coffee of the day.
"How long were you up last night?" Watching her husband move in slow motion around the kitchen.
"A long time. My followers never stop talking Liv", pecking her on the cheek before taking a seat next to Cena.
"I told you not to get addicted, babe."
"I don't know how people ever get anything done if they're posting or replying or tweeting all day and night", looking at Jolie as she entertains herself by blowing spit bubbles.
"You have to manage it babe", setting his breakfast in front of him.
"You don't understand Liv, my followers have a lot to say and they want to talk to me. They even send pictures - some are a bit questionable, though", sipping the hot coffee.
"You better be careful Fitz, and I mean it."
"I wonder why Darius and Johnson didn't suggest I use social media."
"Babe, those Old Gs probably don't know how to use any of those apps." She brings a hand to her mouth, not believing what she just said. "You're now reaching a whole new segment of the electorate."
Halfway through his second cup of coffee and breakfast, Fitz is beginning to feel more awake, so he turns the carrier around and makes funny faces at Jolie.
"Smile like this JoJo", he says with a big smile, sliding his phone from the granite top to capture the moment.
"Smile, Princess."
Cena poses for her father with a big smile as he takes a selfie of them grinning broadly.
"Take another picture, daddy."
"Fitz, I hope you're not posting those pictures online."
"Already posted them on Instagram."
"Let me see daddy", Cena says, pulling his arm so she can look at the phone screen.
"Instagram? How do you even know how to do that?"
"It's not hard, Liv I'll teach you later."
"I already told you I know how to use all of those apps", getting more annoyed by his newfound knowledge of social media.
"Smile again, Cee."
"Fitz, people can be cruel. They can say nasty things about our children."
"Liv, they're going to be on TV next week anyway when we do that stupid interview with Shelby Sage. By the way, I really don't understand why they need to be there", snapping another picture of his daughters.
Olivia is prepared to protest until she realizes he is right. She cannot keep the girls out of the spotlight forever, especially if he wins the election.
"Did you read Joan's email? The owners didn't accept our offer."
"I knew they wouldn't", swiping his index finger down the phone screen."
"You knew they wouldn't?" Turning and looking at him with surprise over her face. "Then why would you have Joan go in with that number?"
"It's called negotiating Liv", reading the latest tweets. "Did you know you can only use 140 characters on Twitter?"
"I don't want you to play games and lose this house, Fitz. I really like it."
"I gave Joan another –"
"What are you smiling about?" Watching him grin as he looks at the phone screen.
"One of my followers just posted a gif of Charlie. It's too funny."
"Fitz, what about the house?" She asks in frustration.
"Let me see daddy", Cena says, not knowing what a gif is or who Charlie is.
"No, that's not for nice little girls to see", Olivia interjects.
"You should see the number of Likes it has already."
"Fitz - the house."
"Joan is submitting our second offer today. Don't worry, we'll get the house. It's been on the market for six months. The owners are highly motivated to sell."
"I just don't want you to insult them by lowballing."
"It's not lowballing, Liv. It's about market value", typing slowly to reply to a tweet.
She rolls her eyes, growing more annoyed trying to talk to him while he is tweeting.
"You know, if you're going to be a social media junkie then you should at least learn how to type faster", throwing the dish towel on the counter and stomping from the kitchen in frustration.
XXX
Wilson has been growing increasingly frustrated with his candidate because the man has not been taking the election seriously. Wilson knows if Charlie is going to have any chance at winning the election he needs to have a stellar performance at the debate. Charlie needs to come across to the audience as knowledgeable and caring about the issues.
"I hope you've been doing your homework to prepare for the debate next week, Charlie. Grant is smart – he's been learning about the issues -taking his message directly to the people."
"I know everything I need to know about those people", interrupting Wilson's remarks.
"You should at least pretend to care, Charlie. And don't take anything for granted."
"The people don't want to hear a damn thing Grant has to say now that wife of his has been linked to the Marla Briggs scandal."
"Grant's wife hasn't been accused of anything, Charlie. Kotch has his people talking to everybody", growing more annoyed with the pompous man. "Have you been meeting with the debate coach?"
"I don't need a coach", proudly strutting around the office. "You know Teddy, you've been acting awfully strange lately", smirking at the mayor. "You wouldn't have anything to do with that Briggs scandal –now would you? Have you been pilfering from the city's coffers, too?" He asks with a chuckle.
Unable to tolerate any more of man's idiocy and veiled innuendo, Mayor Wilson grabs Charlie in the collar and throws him against the wall, causing some of the plaques and framed awards to tumble to the floor.
"Listen you damn fool. I have had enough of you not taking this thing seriously. You think you're just going to waltz into that auditorium and improvise – wing it? Grant is prepared I tell you - he's ready. He'll chew you up and spit you out on that stage. And he'll do worse than that if he ever found out what you did to his wife's foundation."
Charlie's eyes bulge wide and sweat beads form on his forehead, wondering how Teddy found out that he caused the flood at Olivia's foundation.
"Don't look surprised, Charlie. I know every damn thing your dumb ass does. So you'd better leave that Grant lady alone and focus on winning this election. Do. You. Understand. Me?" Pressing his forearm against Charlie's throat.
With fear in his eyes and unable to speak, Charlie's nods his head rapidly. He had no idea Teddy was such a badass.
"And Charlie, don't let this $2000 suit fool you - I'm come from the streets too."
Wilson releases Charlie, walks over to the full-length floor mirror, and glares at the trembling man's reflection.
"And don't ever call me Teddy again", straightening his silk tie. "It's Mr. Mayor to you. Now get the hell out of my office."
Wilson sits in the leather chair and grimaces as Charlie scampers from the room. Charlie unknowingly hit a sensitive nerve. Mayor Wilson has been nervous, on edge really, ever since the Grand Jury indicted Marla. He wonders how close Kotch is to learning about his special relationship with the woman.
XXX
Dressed in a pair of black, wide leg Palazzo pants and a white, boat neck tee shirt, Olivia breezes into the study with her curly hair falling just above her shoulders. Her face, breasts, and hips are still full thanks to Jolie, and she looks amazing.
"Are you almost ready?" She asks cheerily, standing in front of the desk.
"A few more minutes", his chin resting in his palm and not bothering to look up from the computer screen. "I need a couple of more minutes to finish reviewing my notes for the debate."
"Okay, but Cena is waiting for you by the front door. She's ready to go to the carnival – ready to get onto the rides and eat cotton candy."
"Give me five", he says. "I'll -"
His breath is taken away when he looks up and sees his wife standing in front of the desk looking absolutely beautiful. He smiles and licks his lips when he sees she is wearing her hair natural, which she has been doing a lot since Jolie was born. She looks fresh, natural, and beautiful to him. She also looks younger.
"What?" Her reaction to him gawking at her.
"You look beautiful", walking around the desk and wrapping her in his arms. "Pucker."
"Don't you have work to do, mister?" Smiling broadly and wrapping her arms around his waist.
He captures her lips with his and her hand flies to the nape of his neck, grazing the fine hairs with her finger nails. He slides his hands down, cups her round bottom, and pulls her close. Kissing and sucking each other's mouth with ferocity, they are getting lost in the moment. She backs him against the desk and steps between his legs, exploring his familiar mouth with her tongue. Ears ablaze, he runs his hand up her neck and into her hair, holding her close. They are oblivious to everything around them, forgetting Cena and Jolie are waiting in the foyer. They are reaching the point of no return when Jolie's screams interrupt their impromptu make-out session, and they pull apart, bursting into laughter. Olivia swipes her thumb across his smiling lips, wiping away the evidence of their moment of passion.
"You should finish your work so we can get going", trying to peel his hands from her waist. She knows when he gets like this there is no stopping him from wanting to finish the act.
"This is my work", holding onto her waist and trailing kisses down her neck.
She escapes his grasp and back peddles toward the door.
"Five minutes, mister. And bring your sweater - it's going to get chilly later."
Fitz looks at her retreating from the study and runs a hand down the side of his face in frustration.
XXX
They have had a long day of rides, games, and way too much sugar in the form of funnel cake and cotton candy, and now the girls are fast asleep in the back seat as Fitz navigates the car home. Face set hard, he grips the steering wheel tightly with his left hand and pushes the gear shift with his right hand. Oblivious to her husband's quiet demeanor, Oliva looks in the back and shakes her head when she sees her girls are sleeping with their heads hanging to the side like two drunken sailors.
"They've had a long day, babe. We're going to have a fight on our hands trying to bathe them. Who do you want tonight?" Looking at her phone and swiping through the photos she took of them at the carnival.
Silence.
"You should've seen the look on Cee's face when the rollercoaster took that big dip. I thought she was going to scream her lungs out", chuckling as she swipes to the next photo until she sees the scowl on his face from the corner of her eye. And for first time since leaving the carnival she realizes he has not responded to anything she has said since they left the carnival.
"Babe, is something wrong?" Looking at him curiously as he forcefully pushes the gear shift to accelerate the car.
Silence.
"Are you upset about something?" She asks, clueless about what has her husband in such a foul mood.
He pulls the car into the driveway and slams on the brakes, causing her to lurch forward and the phone to fly from her hand and land onto the floor.
"What the heck is the matter with you?" Getting upset because now he is acting like an asshole.
"Get Jolie and I'll get Cena", he says brusquely, sliding from behind the steering wheel and opening the back door.
XXX
With the girls bathed and tucked into their beds, Olivia sits on their bed fuming, waiting for her rude husband to get out of the shower. She had plans for them to shower together tonight, after the kids were in bed, but she would not dare give him any loving of any kind tonight. When the bathroom door finally opens, she looks up and sees steam wafting into the bedroom as he walks into the room drying his hair.
"Why didn't you turn on the fan? You know that's how moisture builds –"
"I don't give a damn about any moisture", snatching open the dresser drawer and pulling out a pair of pajama pants.
Shocked by his outbursts, she gasps and watches as he pulls on his pajama pants and tee shirt. He tosses the damp towels across the room and they fall short of the hamper, landing onto the floor. He knows that shit bothers her, that she hates having clothes thrown around their bedroom.
"If you're upset with me then say so. Don't give me the silent treatment."
"I'm going to bed", walking over to his side of the bed.
"No - you're not. We're going to talk about this. We don't go to bed angry anymore – remember?"
"Let it go, Olivia", glaring at her with dark eyes.
"I will not let it go. You're upset with me and for what I don't know", flailing her arms.
"Just go to bed, Olivia", trying to pull back Hildie's tightly tucked bed linens.
"I will not go to bed. I'm not Cena, you don't treat me like a child", jumping on his side and preventing him from getting into bed.
"No, I'm treating you like my sister, the whore", he says with venom dripping from his voice.
She brings her hand down hard across his face and he stumbles backward on his heels. Eyes wide, they look at each other stunned, and Olivia quickly brings her hand to her mouth when she sees her fingerprints on the side of his face.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean –"
"I'm sleeping –"
"What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?" She yells with tears streaming down her face.
He snatches the pillows off the bed and stomps toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
Enraged, he turns and looks at her with anger in his eyes.
"Don't you ever disrespect me like that again."
"Disrespect you? What are you talking about? How did I disrespect you?" She says weepily."
"You were flirting with that guy who looked like he was young enough to be in goddamn high school."
"Flirting?" Brushing the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand.
"You heard me", taking a few steps toward the bed. "I saw how you were giggling with that guy like you were some damn schoolgirl."
"I don't know what you're talking about – who you're talking about", wiping the tears from the other cheek.
"That guy who was standing in front of JoJo's stroller. The guy who you thought everything that came out of his mouth was so damn funny", he says angrily.
Her eyes roll up skyward, as she searches the recesses and corners of her mind trying to remember who he could possibly be referring to, and then she remembers.
"You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is all a joke."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"Babe", she says softly, crawling from the bed and standing in front of him. "While I'm flattered that you still get jealous, but you are so off base."
He does not relent, continuing to grimace and clutch his pillows.
"That young man, and you're right, he is a young man, was asking me about JoJo. He wanted to know if he could expect to ever get any sleep again once his wife delivers their baby in six weeks."
Fitz crinkles his brow, processing what she said, when he realizes he has made a huge mistake.
"We were laughing because I said he and his wife probably won't get another good night's sleep for the next 18 years. In fact, I told him how we didn't get any sleep for a few weeks because JoJo was colicky. That's what you saw - there was no flirting."
"Liv, I'm sorry", holding the pillows with one hand and raking fingers through his hair with the other hand. "I thought –"
"No - that's just it Fitz - you didn't think", now she is angry. "You can't jump to conclusions and accuse me of something just because you're feeling insecure. You have to talk to me about these things", walking to her side of the bed and pulling back the covers.
"I'm sorry. This investigation – the campaign – the debate – and this interview tomorrow -it all has me so damned stressed. I can hardly think straight these days."
Olivia climbs into bed and turns her back to him.
"Can we talk about this?" Still standing by the door and holding his pillows.
"Talking is over."
"Liv –"
"I was going to help you with your little stress problem tonight but you blew it. Good night Mr. Grant", she says, reaching up and turning off her lamp.
XXX
They look in the mirror preparing for the interview at the TV station with Shelby Sage. He has been in a bad mood all morning and she knows why. But it is his fault, smiling internally as she watches him try to knot his tie.
"You would think I was running for President of the United States and not for our small City Council", growing frustrated because he cannot seem to knot the tie properly today.
"Are you a grumpy pants today babe?" Swatting his hand from his neck so she can knot the tie.
"I'm just saying, Liv."
"You're just saying what?" Running her tongue across his lips to give him a little relief.
"This campaign just seems like it's been going on forever."
"It's only been five months. Are you having regrets?"
"I just want it to be over. It's taking away too much of our family time. And, I don't like dragging you and the kids to interviews like it's some dog and pony show. It's just overkill."
"Shelby is very popular babe - everybody watches her. Look at it as another way to get your message out."
"I'm on Twitter and Facebook", he says stubbornly and she rolls her eyes. "Why do the girls need to be there anyway? Is Shelby going to ask Cena and JoJo questions too? It's all so ridiculous."
"The people like to know about the candidates they're voting for babe, including their families. Besides, it's only an hour", and he looks at her with incredulity.
"You mean you like people asking questions about us – about our personal lives? We've had enough of that lately."
"Well apparently I don't dislike it as much as you."
He huffs and walks over to the nightstand, picks up his watch, and fastens it onto his wrist.
Somebody's got up on the wrong side of the bed, she thinks to herself as she applies her lipstick.
"I'm going down to put the girls into the car. We have to be at the station early - so don't be all day."
When he turns to leave the bedroom, she sticks out her tongue at him.
"Don't think I don't know every time you do that Liv", he says, walking from the room as her mouth falls open in surprise.
XXX
The Grants arrive at the television station two hours before the interview is scheduled to start and someone immediately hustles Olivia in the back to the makeup department. Fitz waits in the hall holding Jolie and talking with Darius as Cena plays a few feet down the hall with Biker Princess. When Olivia returns from getting camera ready, Fitz is hustled to the back to remove the shine on his face caused by him perspiring.
"He's nervous Darius", Olivia says, rocking Jolie who is beginning to squirm.
"He'll be fine."
"He's ready for the election to be over."
"Election Day is in six weeks. He'll relax then", Darius says.
As Olivia and Darius chat, Cena runs toward the man standing at the end of the hall looking at his phone.
"Mister, mister", Cena yells, pulling at the hem of the man's jacket to get his attention.
The man looks down at the pretty, caramel-skinned girl with blue eyes and a head full curly brown hair.
"Well aren't you just the prettiest thing", smiling kindly at the little girl.
"I dropped Biker Princess."
"And who is Biker Princess?"
"My daddy bought her and I dropped her over there", pointing toward the radiator. "Can you get her, please?"
"Sure, I think I can get her for you."
Cena grabs the stranger's hand and guides him over to where she dropped the toy.
"Right there", pointing to Biker Princess, who is lodged in the space between the radiator and the wall.
The man gets down onto his hands and knees, stretches his long arm into the space between the radiator and the wall and retrieves the toy.
"Here you go, pretty girl", swiping the dust from his pants as he stands and gives Cena her toy.
"Cena", Olivia screams, panicking when she sees her daughter standing with the man.
"Mommy, the nice man got Biker Princess for me", holding up the toy for her mother to see.
With chest heaving, Olivia pulls Cena behind her and holds Jolie close to her chest.
"Olivia, this is your daughter?" Looking back and forth between Olivia and the smiling little girl in surprise.
"Thank you, Charlie", giving him a long look. "Now let's go find daddy, Cena."
"Thank you, mister", looking over her shoulder at the seething man as her mother pulls her down the hall.
"Half-breeds", Charlie says under his breath, but loud enough for Olivia to hear him.
Olivia's body stiffens when she hears the despicable words, but she keeps walking. She will not give Charlie the pleasure of knowing his words hurt her.
XXX
"The interview wasn't too bad, babe. Shelby only tried to engage Cena once", Olivia says as she sits on the bed performing her nightly routine.
"I'm just glad it's over", reading the reactions to the interview on Facebook.
"Let's move, Fitz. Let's buy a house in the city. Maybe one of those new townhouses down by the river."
"Move? Why?" Setting the tablet on his lap and looking over at his wife with raised eyebrows when he hears the out-of-the-blue request.
"My business is in the city. Your business is in the city. You're going to be President of City Council – it just makes sense. Besides, it will send a positive message to the citizens that you're truly invested in the city - that you won't be just popping in and popping out."
"One, I haven't won the election yet, Liv. And two, I hardly call having to work 12-hour days popping in and popping out."
"That's another reason we should move. I hate that you have to drive all the way out here so late at night. That can be dangerous when you're tired."
With lips pursed, he listens intently, thinking a long time before responding. Then he pulls her close and kisses the top of her head.
"Now, are you going to tell me why you really want to move?"
"I told you –"
"Olivia ..." He says in a warning tone.
"The kids are getting older, Fitz."
"What's going on, Liv?"
"I've been thinking about it for a while."
"You have?" Looking at her in surprise.
"They need more diversity, Fitz. Church Falls is hardly a bastion of diversity you know."
"Is this about what Deon said?"
"Yes – no – not really."
"I love this house, Liv. We've become a family here. I always thought we would raise the girls here - grow old together here. I thought when the girls went away to college we would be empty-nesters for a few years and after college they would move back home."
"Move back home?"
"Yes, because they will have earned useless degrees."
"That we happily paid for - of course."
"Of course. So they won't be able to find jobs to support themselves."
"Except at the local coffee house and pizza joint."
"Exactly. So that's why we can't move."
"Seriously, babe –"
"Can we discuss this after the election? I can't think about moving right now when I have to get through the debate next week."
"OK, we'll discuss it after the election."
"And Liv, I'm sorry about last night - about what I said. It was mean and nasty. There was no call for what I said."
"Apology accepted, but don't accuse me of something when I have given you no reason. And, while I wasn't flirting with that guy, there really isn't anything wrong with a little harmless flirting every now and then", smiling at the look of shock on his face.
XXX
Fitz is wound as tight as a drum as he walks back and forth from the bedroom and the walk-in closet. The debate is in a few hours and he cannot seem to calm down, his nerves are all over the place. Although he is comfortable with the issues and can speak intelligently about the problems facing the city, including citing the appropriate statistics when necessary, he does not know what to expect from Charlie. The man is too unpredictable.
"Liv", he calls out from the closet, frantically opening and closing his valet drawers.
"Olivia", he yells, his voice rising with the increasing anxiety.
"Ssh", she says, running into the closet with an index finger pressed to her lips. "I just got JoJo to go to sleep. She's been cranky all day."
"Is she all right?" looking at her with concern. "Do I need to stay home?"
"She's fine", continuing in a hushed voice. "She just needs to get some sleep. And no, you don't need to stay home. What do you want?"
"Where are my lucky cufflinks?" He asks in an equally hushed voiced. "I'm going to need them tonight - Charlie likes to go for the jugular. You know the Investigation is going to come up."
"Charlie is a mean-spirited jerk who says things to divide people, babe. The dynamic has to be between you and the audience. Don't get down in the mud with him."
He nods.
"Use your law degree to out debate him - rebuke what he says."
"This scandal changes everything, Liv. Besides, Charlie knows how to get the crowd on his side."
"Everyone will love you, babe. You just have to stay above the fray. Nobody wants to hear all of that back and forth bickering."
"Why am I doing this again?" Looking at her wild-eyed.
"Because you want to make a difference in our great city. Remember, man of the people."
A look of befuddlement spread across his face because he is not quite sure what she means.
"Here are your cufflinks", closing the top drawer of the valet where he always stores them.
XXX
The debate between the candidates for President of the City Council is being aired live tonight from the Springfield Heights High School, and when Fitz arrives at the high school he is still on edge, Olivia's pep talk did little to calm his nerves. So he searches for Darius and Johnson to discuss some last-minute ideas he has about the debate. As Fitz looks for his advisers, he wishes Olivia was going to be sitting in the audience because seeing her face would help to calm his nerves. But Olivia had already made plans to watch the debate at home with John and Abby.
Olivia walks into the family room from the kitchen and sets the tray of snacks onto the coffee table. Then she lifts Ethan from Abby's arms and settles onto the sofa next to John, who is holding Cena on his lap. As Abby lifts Jolie from the carrier, the debate moderator appears on the television screen.
"We are broadcasting live from the Springfield Heights High School auditorium for the one and only debate between businessmen Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Third and his opponent Charles Barber. This debate is scheduled for one hour and the rules for the debate are as follows: each candidate will get two minutes to make an opening statement. Afterward, I will ask the candidates questions, to which they will each respond and rebut. And finally, at the end of the debate, we will take questions from members of the audience. Before we get started, everyone please silence your cell phones. Now, let's get started. Are you ready, gentlemen?"
As Olivia looks at the television screen, she can see that her husband is nervous.
"My brother looks like he has to go to the bathroom", John says with a chuckle.
"Shush", Abby says, elbowing her husband in the ribs.
"Why is daddy on TV?" Cena asks, pointing at the screen.
"Because he's going to help make things better for our city", Olivia says as Charlie begins to speak.
"It's not a coincidence that my opponent's wife, Olivia Pope, is making money off the backs of the poor in this city. She takes taxpayers dollars and uses it to hire his family members. She has hired his mother to work at her foundation. The woman has never had a job in her life but she gets a nice, cushy job that is paid for by you – the taxpayers of this city. I'm quite sure one of you could have benefitted from that job."
The crowd begins to grumble.
"And, Olivia Pope has also been paying my opponent's sister a very hefty salary to work at the local community center. Again, I'm sure one of you could have used that job – someone who actually lives in the community."
Some of the audience nod their heads up and down.
"Nepotism is alive and well, people. And my opponent and his wife will continue it if he is elected. Olivia Pope is corrupt, just like her friend and mentor Marla Briggs – who you know is being investigated for corruption – for stealing your tax dollars."
The crowd's rumblings get louder and the bell rings, signaling Charlie's two minutes are up.
"You have two minutes, Mr. Grant."
"Stay above the fray baby", Olivia says when she sees the look on her husband's face.
"Although this election is not a referendum on my wife or her foundation, I will take a moment to opponent's erroneous and false statements", turning to look at Charlie. "First, my wife's name is Olivia Grant."
Charlie grimaces as he looks out onto the audience, refusing to acknowledge Fitz.
"Second, the funds raised by the Olivia Pope Foundation are spent directly on programs to help the people of this city to realize their potential - to live better lives. All expenditures are properly accounted for, as required by the law."
"And", looking at the audience. "It is apparent my opponent doesn't want to talk about the issues or his policies for making life better for everyone in this city. He would rather use this important time - this platform - to launch personal attacks against my family – against my wife – against my mother - and against my sister. Neither of whom is running for Council president."
"Attack me all you want Mr. Barber, but back off my family. Now, if you want to talk about the issues – if you want to talk about how we each will go about the business of helping this city – then let's do it. But we won't talk about my family and I won't get down in the mud with you."
Fitz turns and gives Charlie a hard look and the audience goes wild and starts to chant family first, family first.
"What we need in this city is not division. What we need in this city is not hatred. What we need in this city is not violence and lawlessness. What we need is love, and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our city, whether they be white or whether they be black."
Undeterred by Fitz' goody-two-shoes remarks, Charlie continues the personal attacks when it is his turn to respond.
"Like I said, the Olivia Pope Foundation is a fraud. Some say she has received some of that money Marla Briggs, her mentor, has been stealing from you – the good people of this city. She might be going to jail."
The crowd begins to groan again, not liking what they are hearing.
"Money donated to her foundation to help you realize your potential, as my opponent says, has been used for everything but that. The sleaze factor is enormous."
Olivia is fuming as she watches Charlie try twist everything her foundation represents.
"They drive over here from their big suburban home - in their big, fancy cars. I'm sure some of you would love to drive a big BMW or an Audi."
The crowd rumbles again.
"Hell, they don't even decency to drive American cars."
Charlie is energized. He is on a roll and he knows it, until Marcella stands and interrupts his rant against the Grants.
"Who are you?"
"Excuse me?" Charlie says, looking at the women with indignation.
"You heard me. I want to know who you are because before you started running for office I have never seen you. You surely have never come down here to Springfield Heights. So again, who are you?" Placing both hands on her broad hips.
"Ma'am, do you have a real question?" Charlie asks smugly, getting a few chuckles from the audience.
"I have seen the Grants over here for months. Mrs. Grant has been here helping the community long before her husband began his bid for Council president. And your opponent, Mr. Grant, has been here as well. He has taught several courses at the Springfield Heights community center to help the organizers, helping us to develop some very important skills. He and his wife have also arranged for some of their friends and colleagues to teach courses as well. These people have experience and expertise we could never afford to pay for."
Charlie looks to the moderator for help.
"Miss, you'll get a chance to ask questions during the Q and A portion of the debate", the moderator says, trying to regain control of the process.
"Let her speak. Let her speak", members of the audience begin to chant.
The moderator throws her pencil onto the table in frustration because the audience is beginning to get rowdy and she does not want a riot to start. She knows a riot is the language of the unheard, so she looks at Marcella and nods for her to continue.
"And his sister, Nora, who you say is on the dole, well you should come over to our center sometime and see all of the wonderful work she has done. If you ever bothered to come to the center you would see how Mr. Grant's sister helped to transform the interior walls from a drab, uninviting environment to a bright, energetic retreat for our children. If you ever bothered to come there you would also see the beautiful mural and other artwork she has helped to create."
"Mr. Grant's sister has worked with our children, helping to bring out their natural talent as artist, even inspiring some of them to want to go to art school. So whatever money you think she has gotten, it damn sure wasn't enough because she used her own money to buy paint and other supplies - supplies the city no longer provides us. The Grants have only helped our communities."
"So that's Marcella", John says.
"I like her. She's my kind of woman", Abby says with a smirk and a nod.
Charlie looks at the moderator again, silently asking her to intercede, but she ignores him and nods for the Marcella to continue. And the crowd goes wild.
"Preach, Marcella.
"So again, who are you and what have you done for the people of this city?"
"He's nobody, that's who he is. He won't even set foot into Tilghman anymore."
"And that's where he was born. I knew his momma", someone in the back yells and Charlie blanches at the reference to his mother.
"Hell, he hasn't come anywhere near Roosevelt. Grant has been everywhere – all over this city."
"That's right. I even follow him on the Book and Twitter. And he always replies to my posts", a young woman says.
"Oh lord", Olivia says softly, shaking her head thinking her husband does not need any more encouragement to use social media.
The crowd begins to boo Charlie and he glares across the stage at Fitz with virulent hate.
"Would you like to respond to your potential constituents, Mr. Barber?" The moderator asks.
The audience begins to chant Grant. Grant. Grant, drowning out Charlie's attempts to speak. Charlie looks around the packed auditorium, scowling at the people chanting Grant's name, before running off the stage mumbling something that sounded vaguely like go to hell. Olivia shouts and fist pumps in triumph, and Cena looks at her mother and wonders why she is so happy.
"I think my brother just became the new President of City Council", John says in amazement.
XXX
Across town on the seventh floor of City Hall, Mayor Wilson throws his glass across the room and watches as the expensive bourbon trickles down the wall and onto the floor. He knows they just lost the election. Wilson grabs his coat and walks from the office as the burner phone in his desk drawer begins to ring. He does not want to talk to a damn soul right now.