A/N: I guess it's time to say I don't own anything Scandal related. Reader575, let's see what happens to Charlie in a few chapters. LaJoyMechell, Nora is in a facility somewhere on the east coast getting the help she needs. Lyn92, Cena's name is pronounced See – Nah. Monica, you're right, Fitz' tongue rivals his daddy's at times. Clanay, I LOL when I read your comment. The mayor is not the father. Cleo, yup, yup, yup to everything you said. Thanks all for continuing to follow and review. BTW, there will be an epilogue to Home for the Holidays. I started writing it last January (can you believe that?) but this story got in the way. Thanks for asking. Here we go!
Chapter 28. The Blame Game
Breaking News
City Council President Marla Briggs, indicted for fraud and racketeering, has been deemed not competent to stand trial and, therefore, all charges have been dropped.
Tuesday - Election Night
The small ballroom Olivia reserved in the popular downtown hotel to host Fitz' Election Night event is teeming with all of the people who supported his political journey. She and Hildie worked feverishly for the past six weeks planning the event to thank everyone who volunteered their time and donated money to help her husband reach this point. Win or lose, they are going to have a party tonight.
Stevie Wonder's We Can Work It Out blasts through the speakers as Olivia stands near the entrance to the ballroom surveying the tightly packed space. She shakes her head and chuckles silently because the place looks like the Fourth of July and New Year's Eve all rolled into one. Everyone is decked out in red, white, and blue tee shirts, hats, and buttons displaying the Grant name. Campaign posters with her husband's smiling face line the walls, and stretched high above the stage is a banner that reads Grant for the People. Noisemakers of all sorts are spread on the tables and a bunch of balloons and confetti await overhead to be released. The caterer is on standby waiting for Mrs. Grant to give the signal. Everything is ready and all that is needed are the election results.
The polls have been closed for an hour and a nervous and anticipatory energy fills the air. Everyone is ready to find out if their strategy and hard work over the past eight months have paid off. Some people are looking up at the television monitors, which have been placed strategically around the room, waiting for the news anchor to announce the early voting results. Others are looking down at their cell phones and tablets, proactively trying to find out how the people have voted. The tension-filled air is broken intermittently by the sound of an occasional horn blowing or a clapper clapping.
With sleeves rolled up to his forearms, Fitz stands next to Johnson, who is holding a bottle of beer and staring up at one of the television monitors.
"It looks like there was a higher than usual turnout, Fitz."
"Is that good for us?" Fitz asks, draping an arm around the man's shoulders.
"Hard to tell. People aren't just voting for a new Council president. There are several other important issues on the ballot that will impact their lives. It's going to be a long night", Johnson says wearily.
Fitz nods, pats the man on the back, and walks over to his team of young advisers.
"How's it looking, Jason?" Standing over the young man who is frantically banging on the keyboard.
"Based on what people are live streaming, it seems like you're getting a lot of votes, Mr. G."
"We can't count on what people say Mr. Grant", Marcus interjects, looking up from his phone. "We have to wait to see how they actually cast their ballot."
Fitz nods in understanding then turns his attention back to Jason's screen where he sees people outside of their polling places chanting Grant for the people.
XXX
The polls have been closed for over an hour and only five percent of the vote has been counted, and Charlie is in the lead. He is confident that he has a real chance of winning the election because his supporters will deliver for him the three important districts where the median income is well over $175,000.00 a year. He expects the Springfield Heights, Tilghman, and Roosevelt districts will go to Grant. And he hopes his supporters have done whatever is necessary to ensure the five remaining districts will swing in his favor. Feeling good about how the night is unfolding, Charlie sits back on the plush sofa, sips scotch, and smiles as he thinks about all the ways Wilson is going to apologize for attacking him a few weeks ago.
XXX
The electoral process has ended and the citizens have spoken, and the people in the small ballroom erupt into a cacophony of cheers and chants as the new faces of local politics walk onto the small stage. Fitz smiles broadly as he holds Olivia's hand and carries Cena. And Olivia smiles just as wide as she carries a sleeping Jolie. Fitz is donning a navy blue suit, white shirt, red tie, and his lucky cufflinks. Olivia is wearing a white two-piece skirt suit and the diamond earrings and tennis bracelet Fitz gave her for pushing out Cena. Jolie is dressed in a navy blue dress, white and red ruffle anklet socks, and white patent leather shoes. Cena is wearing a bright red velvet dress with a large Grant for the People campaign button Gerry pinned onto the dress before the family walked onto the stage. She whined to her father while still at home that the white lace tights were itching her legs and did not want to wear them. Knowing the pains Olivia went to selecting everyone's outfits for the night, and needing to leave the house immediately, the famous negotiator made a deal with his four-year-old daughter. She could wear her favorite pair of white Keds sneakers instead of the black patent leather Mary Jane shoes Olivia planned for her to wear if she kept on the lace tights.
Fitz stands Cena onto the stage next to her mother, kisses his smiling wife on the lips, and walks toward the podium. The crowd goes wild, blowing horns and shaking noisemakers as he slides his speech from the inside jacket pocket. He smiles brightly, taking a moment to bask in the adulation before starting his speech. He holds up his hands to silence the crowd but they begin to chant Grant, Grant, Grant.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much."
"Eight months ago when Councilmen Darius Moton and Wallace Johnson and Congressman Phillip Guildford asked me to run for President of the City Council, I thought they were out of their minds."
The crowd laughs as he looks over and smiles at three of his advisers who are beaming as well.
"As you all know, I do not have a background in politics, so I didn't think I could possibly be their guy. But after several hours of talking and drinking - I might add - they were able to get me to consider stepping into the political arena."
The crowd cheers again.
"They helped me to understand how being a novice to politics - coupled with my business background - would be an asset to this great city."
More cheers from the crowd.
"They helped me to understand how I could contribute to turning this city around and address the issues you all have told me are important to you."
Grant for the people. Grant for the people. Grant for the people.
"And after discussing it with my beautiful wife Olivia - who was onboard immediately - we all decided to go on this journey together."
He smiles and looks over at Olivia who is standing off to the right of the stage holding Jolie. The crowd begins chanting Olivia. Olivia. Olivia, and she smiles at her husband and waves to the crowd.
"And when I began to visit the various communities around this city — talking to you – getting to know you - I knew I had made the right decision. You all helped me to really understand why I need to run for political office. You helped me to understand the work that needs to be done to get our families and city back on track. You helped me to understand that being a political servant is a privilege - and not a right.
The crowd cheers, stomps on the floor, and blows the horns.
"And over the next four years, I will work tirelessly to live up to my campaign promises and to earn your continued support. Thank you for going on this journey with me - and I ask that you continue to walk with me over the next four years."
The journey continues. The journey continues. The journey continues.
Grant for the people. Grant for the people. Grant for the people.
Again, he holds up his hand to silence the crowd.
"And now I would like to introduce some of the people who have helped to make this night possible: Marcella Andersen, Councilman Darius Moton, Marcus Davidson, Councilman Wallace Johnson, Rashid Wilkins, Congressman Phillip Guildford, and Jason Meekins."
"Let's give them all a round of applause."
The advisers grin from ear to ear as the crowd applauds.
"Next, I would like to thank you - all of you who donated your hard-earned money and your time to support my campaign. You took precious time away from your families and your busy schedules to canvass for me – making those annoying calls and knocking on doors. I truly thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Give yourselves a round of applause."
The crowd chants louder and blows the horns and clap the clappers.
"And to my social media family, who challenged me every day with questions and differing points of view, I thank you as well. You turned out for me."
"I also want to thank my family. My parents, Gerry and Maura Grant. My brothers, John and Benjamin, my sister-in-law Abigail, and my sister Nora, who is unable to be with us tonight."
They all wave as the crowd applauds.
"Last, but certainly by no means least, I want to thank the love of my life, my wife, Olivia Grant. Throughout this process she has kept me honest and centered and has encouraged me through the tough times."
He extends his hand for Olivia to come join him at the podium, but Cena pushes pass her mother and runs over to her father.
"Daddy", stretching her arms for him to pick her up. Fitz picks up his precocious daughter and pecks her on the cheek.
"Ladies and gentle, meet our oldest daughter, Cena. I think one day she might have a career in politics."
The crowd bursts into laughter and Fitz kisses Cena on the cheek again.
"Wave to the people, Princess."
"My daddy comb my hair", she says innocently and the crowds laughs and awws.
Cena wraps an arm around her father's neck and looks out onto the crowd of cheering people, wondering why everyone is clapping. Olivia joins him at the podium and he pecks Jolie on the cheek and gives his wife a devious smile. From the glint in his eyes, she knows he is up to some sort of mischief.
"Our baby girl, Jolie", he introduces, and the crowd applauds the sleeping infant.
He wraps a hand around Olivia's waist, pulls her close, and gives her a kiss that rivals the one Al Gore gave his wife Tipper at the 2000 Democratic National Convention. The crowd cheers as Olivia pulls away and swipes her thumb across his lips. He smiles and waves to the crowd again.
"Okay, now it's time to get this party started."
The music begins blast and balloons and confetti fall from high above, showering Fitz and his family as he guides them off the stage.
XXX
On the other side of town the scene inside Charlie Barber's apartment is in stark contrast to the unbridled exuberance in full force at the Grant event. There are no cheering supporters; no red, white, and blue balloons or streamers raining down from the sky; and no family, no wife and children standing by his side and lovingly grinning with pride. He is on his own, standing in the middle of the living room of his luxurious condominium glaring at the scene on television unfolding at the Grant victory party.
Charlie was sure the people would reject Grant once they learned about Olivia's close relationship with Marla Briggs. He thought releasing the information about Marla's embezzlement scheme would be the nail in the political coffin of his long-time nemesis. But as usual, he miscalculated, so now he watches the man he loathes more than anyone or anything on this earth deliver his victory speech to a crowd of adoring supporters.
The corners of Charlie's mouth curl down when he sees the little girl from the television studio run over to her father. He scowls and takes another gulp of scotch when Olivia walks across the stage and allows that man to tongue her in front of everyone. He sends the glass of scotch hurling across the room, crashing it against the large, round mirror.
All of his life Charlie has played the blame game, never taking responsibility for his failures and lack of achievement. In middle school he blamed the teacher who failed him, causing him to repeat the grade. In high school he blamed the football coach for not putting him on the starting team. As a businessman, he blamed the city and his customers when his once lucrative business went into bankruptcy. And with each subsequent failure, Charlie became more bitter and hostile.
Charlie could not or would not see his role in failing to achieve his dreams. Since he was a child, he has always wanted the rewards and the honors, but never wanted to do what it takes to earn them. He never wanted to do the hard work, always taking the short-cut or trying to circumvent the process. In middle school, he did not want to study, so he had to repeat the grade. In high school, he did not want to attend the three-a-day practices in August, the only way to be selected for the starting team. And as a business man, he rather spend his time buying expensive clothes, profiling in upscale nightclubs, and cruising around town in his oversized SUV. He thought the business would take care of itself, and it did for a while. But after constantly ignoring the needs of his customers, they turned elsewhere. So when he lost the lucrative city contracts, his base of customers were nowhere to be found when he needed them.
Growing angrier as thinks about how the universe has always conspired against him, and how the Grants are just the latest in a long line of people who have done him wrong, he paces around the living room like a wild animal. That privileged, self-centered bitch Olivia spurned him for that man. She acted like she was too good for him, like he was not good enough to wipe her feet on. Then she rubbed her rejection in his face by marrying that man because he is successful. Of course he is successful, Grant had advantages that were not afforded him; society did not impose restraints on him.
His breathing becomes shallow and his chest rises and falls as he thinks about that debate moderator. He figured out early on in the debate that she was a Grant ally, allowing the audience to attack him and doing nothing to rein them in. She and Grant conspired to ensure he lost the election. Enraged and filled with virulent hate, everything turns red and he begins to hurl his prized possessions around the room, toppling over the sofa, lamps, and tables. He kicks the bar and sends the expensive liquors crashing to the floor. Swiping the custom glass bowls from the credenza, they smash to the floor, at his feet, and he kicks the shards of glass across the room. Drenched with sweat and chest rising and falling, he catches a glimpse of himself in the cracked mirror, snarling like a rabid animal. No longer recognizing himself, he snatches the mirror from the wall and hurls it across the room, watching it shatter onto the floor. His luck cannot get any worse he thinks. His life is ruined and they are going to pay.
XXX
A few blocks from Fitz' victory celebration, Mayor Wilson sits with his attorney on the seventh floor of City Hall watching the election returns. He has long grown tired of Charlie and his antics and has refused to be in the same room with the man tonight. Besides, what is the point? After Charlie's abysmal performance at the debate last month, and the memes on social media of him running off stage, it was a forgone conclusion that Grant was going to be the next President of City Council.
The tip of his cigar glows bright red as Wilson watches Grant deliver his victory speech. He has to meet with the man tomorrow because it is tradition for the sitting mayor to welcome the new Council president the day after the election. The meeting is typically nothing more than an opportunity for the media to photograph the two men. It is a way to give the citizens the sense they will be working together to improve the city.
Wilson shakes his head thinking he has to figure out how he is going to work with the well-known dealmaker. He doubts if Grant is going to be eager to make the kinds of deals Marla made with him, but he has to try. Just because their guy has lost the election does not mean the special interest groups have gone away. Privatizing the city's police department is still at the top of their list.
XXX
As Fitz steps off the stage holding Olivia's hand, Shelby Sage corners him to score the exclusive interview with the newly elected president of the City Council.
"Mr. President", Shelby calls out, shoving the microphone close to his face. "Congratulations on your victory, sir."
"Thank you, Shelby", flashing his politician's smile at the assertive reporter.
"Can you tell your constituents what your plans are now that the election is over?"
"Shelby, I'll be leaving on Friday with my family for our home in the mountains for a well-deserved vacation and to celebrate our daughter's birthday."
"That sounds terrific, Mr. President. Thank you for taking time to talk with us." Fitz smiles politely and walks toward the crowd.
"You just heard it from the man himself, the newly elected Council president and his family will be going to the mountains for some R&R. Back to you at the studio, Ted."
The music is blaring as Fitz and Olivia make their way around the ballroom greeting and thanking his guests. He waves at Marcella and Johnson who are showing off their dances moves along with dozens of others. When the music slows down, Jason takes Cena and Jolie from the couple so they can have the victory dance. Olivia looks at Fitz, not sure if Jason can handle both of their girls. With raised eyebrows, Fitz gives Jason a questioning look.
"Don't worry Mr. G., I can handle them. I have four little brothers and sisters at home. I watch them all the time."
Fitz nods at Jason then steers Olivia onto the dance floor. They smile at each other and embrace as they spin around the room. Once the dance is over, the Old Gs pull him and Olivia to the side to deliver their congratulations gift.
"You earned this, Fitz", Congressman Guildford says, grinning widely as he hands Fitz a 35-year-old bottle of Balvinie scotch.
"Wow, you really got the good stuff Phil", Fitz smiles, examining the bottle closely.
"Is it that good?" Olivia asks, and the men look at her with raised eyebrows.
"I'll let you taste it when we get to the mountains", kissing her cheek.
"So you guys are headed up to the mountains for a few weeks?" Johnson asks.
"We are", snaking his arm around Olivia's waist and pulling her close. "We need a break before the new Council session begins in January."
"We're celebrating Cena's birthday with family for the first week. Then week two is all about our little family relaxing", looking up at her husband and smiling brightly.
"Well, we're going to get going now", Fitz says. "Thanks again guys, I couldn't have done this without you."
"Aren't you staying? The party is just getting started."
"The party has been started for over three hours now, Darius."
"Well, Yvonne and I are staying a little longer. We booked a room upstairs for the night. Wouldn't want to get pulled over for a DUI."
"Be safe, Darius", Fitz says, extending a handshake. "Johnson – Phil – thank you for everything. We couldn't have done this without you."
"Those young people were very influential, Fitz. That social media really helped to turn out the vote."
Fitz nods in agreement and grabs Olivia's hand.
"We're going to find our daughters and go home."
"Don't forget you have that meeting with Wilson tomorrow afternoon", Darius says, before steering his wife back onto the dance floor.
"Don't remind me", pulling Olivia through the crowd in search of their children.
"I booked a suite upstairs for us if you don't feel like driving home", Olivia says as they pass tables littered with food, empty beer bottles, and half-empty glasses of liquor.
"I want to get away from this crowd - get the girls home." He smiles when he sees Jason holding Cena and waving his hand.
"Daddy, Jason let me tweet and po -"
"Post", Jason says.
"Post on the Book, too."
"Cena's going to be a social media maven. Right Cena?" Handing his new protégé to her father.
Cena nods her head up and down as she yawns. Olivia groans internally, thinking she now has two social media junkies on her hands.
"This little one here is knocked out Mrs. Grant", Marcella says, holding Jolie close to her large breasts."
"That's JoJo's favorite pastime. Thank you Marcella", taking Jolie from the young woman's arms.
"We're going to head out now, but before we left, I wanted to thank you all again for making tonight possible."
"It was mutually beneficial alliance Mr. Grant", Rashid says.
"Our pleasure Mr. Grant", Marcus says.
"Olivia and I have a few things we need to wrap up over the next few days, but after that we'll be heading up to our home in the mountains for a few weeks. I'll set up a time for us to meet when we return."
"That sounds good Mr. Grant", Marcus says with a smile.
"And Marcus, you should expect a call from Geoffrey – my business partner – while we're away."
Marcus looks at the man curiously, wondering why Geoffrey would be calling him.
"We're going to say good night to our family now, then head out."
"Congratulations again, Mr. Grant."
XXX
"Fitzgerald", his father says in a booming voice as he stands from his seat.
"Dad", holding Cena in one arm and shaking his father's hand with the other hand.
"Congratulations son, you actually did it."
"Thanks, dad."
"Fitzgerald, I'm so proud of you", his mother says weepily. "And it was kind of you to include Nora."
"Thanks mom", pecking her on the cheek.
"Congratulations Fitzgerald", Abby says. "I have a few parking tickets I need you to take care of. Oh, I might also have one or two speeding tickets too", she chuckles.
"You're going to get my brother thrown out of office before he can get started Abigail", John says to his wife. "Congratulations, brother."
"Thanks, John."
"Congratulations Fitz", Bennie says, giving his older brother a hug.
"Thanks, Bennie. We're going to head out now."
"We'll see you all up at the house on Saturday", Olivia says.
"I wouldn't miss my granddaughter's birthday for anything", Maura says. "And Olivia, let me know if you need help with anything."
"Thank you Maura - Hildie has already gone up to get everything ready."
WednesdayMorning
"Daddy, daddy. Wake up daddy", Cena yells as she runs into her parents' bedroom carrying a Thermos filled with coffee. She sets the Thermos onto the floor, next to the bed, and climbs onto her father's stomach and proceeds to bounce up and down, her attempt to wake him.
"Daddy", reaching for his eyelids.
"Cena, you're going to poke daddy in the eyes", Olivia says, walking into the bedroom carrying a tray of breakfast foods.
"He won't wake up, mommy."
"I'm awake, Princess", slowly opening his eyes and trying to recover from Cena pouncing on his stomach.
"Mommy says you're pres", looking over to her mother for assistance.
"President, baby. Now get down off of daddy so he can eat his breakfast."
Cena slides off her father's stomach and over to her mother's side of the bed.
"Look at my pajamas, daddy."
Fitz smiles when he sees his daughter's pajamas covered with his campaign picture and slogan.
"Good morning, Mr. President", Olivia says with a big smile as she sets the breakfast tray onto the nightstand."
"It's only City Council Liv, sliding up in bed and resting against the upholstered headboard.
"Well a lot of people voted for you and they're expecting big things from you. And so am I." Leaning in to peck him on the lips, which he quickly turns into a deep kiss.
"Your breakfast is getting cold mister", trying to pull away.
"But you're so hot", kissing her again.
"And you're so corny", standing from the bed and picking up the Thermos from the floor.
"What a night", reaching for his phone as she pours the hot coffee into the mug.
"This should help", handing him the coffee. "It's hot babe - be careful", setting the Thermos onto the nightstand. "Hildie helped me to plan the whole thing. I wanted everyone who supported you to have a good time."
"Supposed I'd lost?"
"Then we just would've had one big ole party."
He nods as he stares at the phone screen.
"Fitz, please put down the phone and eat your breakfast" setting the tray on his lap.
"I just want to see what's been happening since last night."
Reading the latest on his Facebook feed, Fitz sips the coffee and closes his eyes, savoring the heavy-bodied and bold flavor. He inhales deeply, thinking there is something familiar about the aroma.
"This coffee is really good, Liv. Is it a new blend?"
"It's the coffee from that diner you've been raving about for months. You have no idea what I had to go through to get the manager to sell it to me."
"You should've told him the president wanted a few bags", he say with smirk.
"It's just City Council babe", winking at him.
"President Daddy", Cena chimes in while pushing Biker Princess back and forth across her mother's pillow.
"Where's JoJo?" Taking another sip of the flavorful coffee.
"She's sleeping, daddy. JoJo's always sleeping", Cena answers for her mother.
"You don't seem too excited about winning", sitting on the bed next to him.
"All of my favorites", looking down at the tray of food and smiling. "I'm excited, but l'm also tired. This was a long and grueling campaign, Liv. I can't wait until we get up to the house on Friday."
"Bacon, daddy", pointing to the strips of meat on her father's plate.
"Open, Princess", sticking the bacon into her mouth.
"Don't feed her like a dog, Fitz."
"I want a dog, daddy."
"I don't know, Princess. A dog is a lot of responsibility."
"But I want one", she whines.
"No dog Cena", Olivia says firmly and Cena folds her arms across her chest and pokes out her bottom lip.
"You have that meeting with Mayor Wilson this afternoon", smiling as she massages his thigh.
"That's one tradition I wish would be done away with."
"You're going to have to work with him, babe."
"I'm sure he's none too thrilled about that", sticking more bacon into Cena's open mouth. "He was quite vocal about who he was supporting during the campaign."
"It's also tradition for the loser to call the winner to concede."
"Well, you know there's nothing traditional about my former opponent. I didn't want to talk to him anyway, so it's best he didn't call", stuffing eggs and home-fried potatoes into his mouth.
"Your parents are so proud of you. Bennie and John are proud of you, too. They told me so."
"Uncle John is going to ride me in his truck, daddy."
"Your campaign advisers were so thrilled you won. I can't believe how well the Old and New Gs were getting along. I even saw Congressman Guildford dancing with Marcella."
"It was a party, Liv. Everyone is always on their best behavior at a party."
"Hildie was a godsend."
"You're a pretty good party planner, baby. Pucker." And she pecks him on the lips.
"Don't you think the music got pretty loud after a while?"
"I suppose, but everyone seemed to be having a good time."
"Did you eat anything last night?" Arching a brow as she watches him wolf down the food.
"Honestly, I don't remember", bringing the glass of orange juice to his lips.
"Cena has her dance lesson tomorrow. Can you believe they've already begun to practice for the Christmas show?"
"I'm a tree daddy", Cena yells and Fitz closes his eyes tight as her voice echoes in his ear.
"I know, sweetheart."
"Can you still take her or will the president be too busy?" She asks playfully.
"Never too busy for my Princess. Right Princess?"
"Right, daddy."
"Then we can leave Friday morning for the mountains. I hope Hildie isn't having too much trouble getting the house ready for our stay and Cena's birthday party."
"She hasn't called – has she?" Handing Olivia the mug to refill it with the flavorful coffee.
"No."
"Then everything is okay. Two whole weeks of relaxation and -"
"And swimming", Olivia says, stopping him from saying something inappropriate in front of their daughter.
"I'm going to be five mommy", holding up five fingers, and Fitz closes his eyes again.
"I know, and we're going to have a big party on Saturday just for you", squeezing her daughter's cheek.
"With horses and jumping balls?" She asks excitedly, bouncing on the bed.
"If I tell you then it won't be a surprise?" Looking at her giggling daughter. "No bouncing Cee, you're going to make daddy spill his breakfast", pouring her husband more coffee.
"Babe, I hope you don't mind, but I invited Marion to join us for the weekend.
"I don't really know her Liv", biting into the toast. "Bite Cee", placing the toast into his daughter's open mouth.
"You two are getting crumbs all over the bed", picking up crumbs from the sheet draped over his waist.
"I know you don't know her but she's a little down right now, so I thought getting out of the city for a few days might help to lift her spirits."
"Well, there's certainly plenty of room."
"You'll have the opportunity to get to know her. I'm sure you two will work together at some point."
He shrugs his shoulders and continues to devour the special breakfast.
"Cena, go check on your sister. Walk very slowly so you don't wake her. Okay?"
"Ok, mommy", crawling over her father and almost knocking over his plate. Fitz watches as Cena slowly creeps from the room then looks at his wife, wondering why she needed Cena to leave the room.
"Babe ..." she says slowly, topping of his already full mug.
He cocks his head to the side and looks at her with raised eyebrows. Her actions are a dead giveaway that he is not going to like what she is about to say.
"I want to visit Marla before we leave on Friday", rushing the words from her mouth.
"You have got to be kidding me", tossing the fork onto the plate.
"Babe –"
"Olivia, she stole money from the people she swore to help", he says angrily.
"She had a reason, Fitz."
"I don't give a damn about her reason. She's no better than a common thief."
"Fitz!"
"Don't Fitz me. Trying to defend her actions is a fool's errand, Olivia."
"I just want to be there for her."
"You almost lost the foundation -and you want to what – be there for her? I don't even know what the hell that means."
"And neither do I, but I won't abandon her", now preparing for a war of words.
"Have you lost your mind? When are you going to get it through your head that she's not the person you thought she was."
"We – I can't just turn my back on her – kick her when she's down. She needs me, Fitz. Besides, she's been exonerated."
"No she hasn't", staring at her in disbelief. "Kotch dropped the charges because he didn't think she was competent to stand trial. She wasn't absolved of any wrongdoings."
Rubbing her forehead, Olivia stands from the bed and starts to pace around the room.
"Do you know how this is going to look? City Council President-elect wife visits crooked former City Council President. The media has already had a field day at our expense."
"I know - but ..."
"There's not but. The people no longer have tolerance for this kind of thing, Olivia. They're tired of politicians lying to them and having their tax dollars stolen to support their lifestyles."
"She's all alone, Fitz."
"I won't be a part of whatever you're planning. I won't."
He has officially lost his appetite and Marla Briggs has once again found a way to ruin what should be a joyful morning in his home. He sets the tray down hard onto the nightstand, crawls out of bed, and storms into the bathroom to take a shower sooner than he planned. Feeling conflicted, Olivia sits on the edge of the bed and lets the tears flow. She does not want the situation with Marla to come between her and Fitz, nor does she want Marla and her daughter to be left alone. Marla would be devastated if she knew her secret had come out and her daughter was on the verge of getting evicted from the facility she risked everything to keep her in.
XXX – Wednesday Afternoon
While it is tradition for the mayor to meet with the newly elected President of City Council the day after the election, Fitz is in no mood to meet with Mayor Wilson after the little tiff he had with his wife a few hours ago. He is still annoyed that Olivia wants to visit the woman who has been the source of so much discord in the city and in their home. But when he steps off the elevator on the seventh floor of City Hall he plasters on his politician's smile as the cameras flash. The mayor's assistant hurries to his office to let him know the new Council president has arrived.
Wilson downs the last of his bourbon and sets the empty glass onto the bar as he walks toward the door to greet Fitzgerald Grant. He also dons a fake smile for the media event.
"President Grant" Wilson smiles as he reaches for the man's hand.
"Mr. Mayor" Fitz says, smiling politely as he shakes the man's surprisingly cold hand.
After about a half-hour of answering questions and being photographed, Wilson dismisses the press from his office. All morning he has been apprehensive about meeting with the man who has the reputation for brokering some of the most difficult corporate mergers and acquisitions in the country. Grant is polished and used to playing on the big stage, and that makes Wilson uneasy. Wilson tried to warn Charlie about Grant, but the fool would not listen. He knew Charlie was no match for Grant, the man was way out of his league. Hell, if truth be told, he is no match for Grant, but he has to feign confidence because some important people are counting on him.
Unlike with Marla, Wilson knows he cannot buy or intimidate the wealthy businessman. Grant has too much confidence and too much money to fall for that tactic. But, Wilson comes from the streets, and he knows everybody has a weakness. And he knows the take-no-prisoners dealmaker's Achilles heel is his family, his wife and children.
"Have a seat Mr. President", Wilson says, walking over to the well-stocked bar. "Drink?" Holding up the decanter of his finest scotch. He also knows the man likes a good single malt.
"No - thank you. It's a bit early for me", glancing around the office as he sits in one of the chairs in front of the desk.
"Fitz - may I call you Fitz?" The mayor asks as he settles into the massive seat behind the desk.
"My family and friends call me Fitz", looking the man directly into the eyes.
As a trained Naval officer and attorney, Fitz is used to observing people's body movements. He is trained to listen carefully to what a person says, what they don't, and more importantly, what their body language says. Many years of sitting across the negotiation table from plaintiffs have taught him to observe a person's physical responses to his questions. Facial expressions, eye contact, posture all indicate what a person is feeling. And right now, Wilson is feeling nervous, as evidenced by him fidgeting with the sharp letter opener on the desk.
"Well, I hope in time you will consider me a friend – just like Marla", he says without an ounce of sincerity, as his eyes dart around the room.
And there it is Fitz thinks. The man is not wasting any time getting down to business.
"Fitz - Marla – the Council -has always deferred to this office on certain matters - matters that are of importance to specific segments of the community", he says hesitantly. "Our relationship was special in that way", sipping from the glass before setting it onto the desk.
Fitz nods his head and waits for the man to continue.
"For instance, take the matter of renovating the water treatment plant. We worked hand in hand to make that project happen. It was long overdue you know - and in the end - it worked out well for all concerned parties."
With pursed lips, Fitz nods his head slowly. He knows the water treatment plant project is how Marla funded those ghost accounts. Mayor Wilson unknowingly has just confirmed his involvement in the scheme.
"I'm sure - like with Marla - we can help each other to make this city a better place for people to live and do business."
"I see", Fitz says, holding the man's gaze.
"And one way we can work together to make this city a better place is to finalize the legislation to privatize our police department. Marla and I had begun discussions on how to make that happen - before she was fallen with her dreadful illness."
Wilson reclines in his chair and waits for Fitz to respond. Stunned by the mayor's blatant willingness to break the law, Fitz stares at the mayor for a long while, shaking his head.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Mr. Mayor."
"What?" Wilson's eyebrows shoot up and his mouth drops.
"The people elected me to help put an end to the kinds of special relationships you and Miss Briggs enjoyed. I won't be part of any of your plans to cheat the people of this city."
Wilson's eyes widen and his breathing becomes shallow.
"Here's the thing Fitz, some important people want to see our police force privatized. And if you would just listen, you will see how this can be a win-win for everyone involved", rubbing the side of his nose with his forefinger.
Fitz shakes his head, wondering if the corruption ever stops.
"Think about it, on the free market, the citizens can choose the level of protection they are willing to pay for."
"Have you lost your mind? How the hell are the poor going to hire private police to protect their communities?"
"The same way they buy anything else - from whom they choose, and in the quantity and quality they choose. If they can't, then they will be no worse off than they are now. Hell, they can self-police."
"Are you kidding me? Poor people don't hire other people to do things for them."
"Says the man who comes to the city to play and then hightails it back to the suburbs before it gets too dark", smirking at Fitz in contempt.
"You're not going to make this about me. This is about how the scant protection the weakened Fourth Amendment provides us is further dissipated in the face of privatized police. It's one thing to know and exercise your rights when a police officer pulls you over, but what rights do you have when a private cop—entrusted with all of the powers of a government cop but not held to the same legal standards—pulls you over and subjects you to a stop-and-frisk?"
Wilson snorts and waves his hand in the air dismissively.
"So you don't think stop-and-frisk is a problem in our city?" Growing annoyed by the smug look on the mayor's face. "So you don't think it is a problem that private police agencies across this country criminalize nonviolent activities like loitering and smoking marijuana. If you think police abuses are worrisome now, then you should know the abuses are more common with private security guards than real police. I won't be a part of this."
Weary of listening to the man standing on his high horse and preaching to him, Wilson abruptly stands in a huff, letting the chair slam against the wall.
"So are you going to be the great white hope for those people in Springfield Heights, Tighlman, and Roosevelt? Is that what you want to be?"
"I want to do the job the people elected me to do."
"You were elected Council president - what - 15 hours ago - and your first order of business is to bend me over my desk - to screw me?"
"We're not that intimate Mr. Mayor", standing and glaring at the man who looks like he is ready to pounce across the desk.
"A lot of people are counting on this deal to go through."
"As long as I am the Council president, we won't be privatizing our police department. I won't pay you and your friends to ruin this city any more than you already have. Consider the legislation dead", turning and walking out of the office
"You're making a big mistake, Grant. You're going to make enemies on this one", Wilson calls out to Fitz, who is already halfway down the hall.