AN: My intent is not to paint Fitz as clueless, but it's interesting some of you view him that , throughout the story Olivia and Fitz have been on different sides of various issues. Men and women just think differently about certain things. Lots of guest reviews for the last chapter - hope you can track my responses to your specific comments/questions.
Monica, you'll learn more about Marion's insecurity in upcoming chapters. The drug crisis is impacting many families in my fictional city. Also, you are so perceptive, you should be curious about Fitz' demeanor after all that bumping and grinding. BTW, I will complete this story, although sometimes it might take me a little longer to publish because real life seems to get in the way. Like coming back from vacation and getting sick the next day. Jeez. Cleo, every line of your review cracked me up. I read it twice. Nothing more needs to be said. Guest 1, remember, it was Miss Cena's idea to share her father with Asha, not Fitz or Olivia's idea. Fitz wants Kelly to know about the request so they all can figure out how to handle it. Insightful comments about how Kelly might be feeling, though. You'll get more details about her feelings later. Guest 2, you nailed the assessment of all the characters mentioned in your review. Marion needs a therapist but she won't get one on my time. Haha. Yes, Asha has been raving to her mother about the fun she has at the Grants and other things she and Cena have discussed. You'll hear more about this later. Guest 3, If inquiring minds want to know then I must tell, a little bit. Calvin and Gwendolyn occasionally have dinner with the family. Remember, they are supposed to be spending time at Triumph Tabernacle helping to set up the new charter school. Hold tight, you'll find out more about what is going on with them in upcoming chapters. Guest 4, Fitz wasn't high at breakfast, he simply wanted to make the day special for his Princess. I see you haven't forgotten about those pills – good. Guest 5, you're right, I'm leaving clues all the time, glad you're catching them. Yes, Cena's silence about school speaks volumes, and Fitz finally understands what she is not saying. Did you catch the big clue in this chapter? Guest 6, you're right, Victoria's need to flaunt her imaginary status with Fitz brought her unwanted suspicion by Marion. You nailed it, Fitz is not clueless, just being a man. Men see things differently than women.
Here we go. Tell me what you think.
Chapter 46. Rejected
Olivia stops setting the dinner dishes on the granite island top when she hears the heavy footsteps entering the kitchen.
"Where's Cena?" Looking over at her husband's distressed face.
"I told her she can come down when she's ready. She's really sad, Liv", Fitz says, sitting down in his chair.
"She'll be fine in time, babe", continuing to place the dishes on the island top.
"Maybe I should take her some ice cream - put some of those sprinkles on it she likes", he says quickly as if he just realized the solution to his daughter's woes. He walks over to the refrigerator and Jolie's eyes follow her father's every move.
"You can't fix this for her, Fitz. Her best friend has dumped her and she is going to be sad for a while", setting the basket of rolls onto the island top.
"I don't want her to hurt, Liv", his hand resting on the freezer door handle as he watches his wife fill his glass with iced tea.
"You know that's not realistic. You can't protect her from heartbreak at six or 16", setting the pitcher of iced tea onto the smooth surface.
"I don't want to think about her ever being 16", he says with sincerity, and Olivia rolls her eyes as he walks back to his seat.
"She has to learn how to deal with rejection, babe", scooping food from the pots on the stove and arranging it on his plate.
"Are you saying you want her to have grit?"
"No - I'm saying she's going to have many hurts in life and we have to teach her how to handle them without thinking the world is coming to an end", setting the plate of food in front of him. "We have to help her understand that sometimes people come into our lives for a little while and she has to be okay when they move on."
"How do we do that, Liv, she's only six?"
Jolie bangs her hand on the high chair and Olivia walks over and scoops more mashed potatoes onto her small plate.
"Somebody has an appetite tonight", smiling as she tousles her daughter's fine hair. "We help her understand she didn't do anything wrong – that this kind of thing happens all the time."
"It's more than that, Liv. She gets too attached — too soon. I told you I didn't want her getting too close to Asha - she did the same thing with Deon. I want her to have more friends — maybe schedule play dates", looking at the mystery on his plate.
Again with the play dates. "Babe, you have to realize the breakup was not Asha's doing – it was her mother's. No amount of play dates will fix parents meddling in their children's relationships."
"Maybe we should enroll her in a different dance school — so she won't have to deal with the constant reminder."
"No – we're not going to teach our daughter to run away from her problems. We won't buffer Cena from difficulty."
"What is this, Liv?" Poking his fork at the food on his plate.
"I don't know — Hildie prepared it."
Jolie's squeals interrupt her parents and Fitz looks over at his daughter as she smears mashed potatoes on her face. He shakes head, thinking his baby girl always seems to have a messy face.
XXX
The brass charm bracelet jingle as Gwendolyn stirs honey into her morning ginger tea and listens to her daughter update her about Cena and Asha's breakup.
"I don't understand why Kelly would do that, mom. Why would she tell Asha that she and Cee can no longer be friends? Poor Cena is confused and heartbroken."
"Livvia, I'm sure Asha is just as confused and heartbroken as Cena. Why Kelly did it – who knows. There could be a myriad of reasons. But, I can tell you one thing, Kelly loves her daughter."
Olivia looks at her mother wondering if Kelly's love for her child was ever in question.
"A protective kind of love, Livvia. Most parents want to protect their children from hurt of any kind. You know when they were here for Cena's birthday – Christmas celebration – I saw Kelly comforting her daughter. I overheard Kelly explaining to Asha why Fitzgerald calls Cena a princess and why Cena has so many nice things."
"Really?" Olivia says with surprise.
"Whether that has anything to do with any of this - I don't know. After all - she did allow Asha to spend the weekend to practice for the recital", raising the mug to her lips.
"I know – that's why none of this makes sense", Olivia says, sliding a spoonful of food into Jolie's mouth. "Fitz wants to find another dance school for Cee. He doesn't want her to deal with the rejection. Mom, I put Cena in that particular school for a reason."
"Fitzgerald just wants to protect his daughter from further pain, baby."
"Well he can't protect her forever."
"And you can't stop him from trying. You should understand that by now."
Surprised by her mother's comment, Olivia frowns as her mother walks over to the stove to make another batch of ginger tea.
XXX
With hands crossed on top of her thighs, Victoria balances her frame on the five-inch stilettos and watches the young man set up lunch on the credenza. When he is finished, she inspects the set-up, nodding her head with approval when she sees Mark has gotten her order right this time.
"Thank you, Mark. Everything looks lovely - as usual."
"I gave you some extra cookies this time, Ms. Sanchez - the ones you like", smiling adoringly at the object of his desire.
"That was so kind of you", flashing her phony smile at the obviously smitten young man.
"Have a good afternoon, Mr. Grant. I'll see you next time, Ms. Sanchez.", grinning at Victoria as he pushes the food cart from the office.
"Yes — thank you, Mark. Have a good day", Fitz says somewhat distractedly as he reviews the notes for his lunch meeting.
XXX
Darius' stomach grumbles as he approaches the council president's reception area. He is hungry and ready to fill his belly with another free lunch. When he enters the reception area he is relieved that Victoria is not at her desk. He is not in the mood to pretend to ignore her today. He continues toward the office, but stops short of the door when he hears her voice. She is standing in front of the desk talking to Fitz.
"Is something wrong, Fitz?" She noticed he has not been himself all morning. Fitz tosses the yellow legal pad and ink pen onto the desk and sighs.
"Cena, my daughter, has experienced her first breakup." Victoria tilts her head slightly and frowns. Cena certainly is not old enough to date so she is not sure what he means.
"Her BFF — best friend forever – turned out not to be. She told Cena they can no longer be friends — and now my daughter is really sad."
"Aww – rejection is tough for a little girl. It's tough for us big girls, too", chuckling lightly. Fitz smiles politely, knowing better not to follow up on the comment.
Darius admires how the tight dress hugs her ass and he knows from experience she is not wearing anything underneath. His tongue reflexively moves across his lips as he remembers the countless times he sat on the edge of her bed watching her unwrap his gift. He remembers smiling like a loon when her dressed dropped to the floor and she revealed the present. He remembers thinking she was perfect in every way and she belonged only to him. He rubs his thumb against his index finger, remembering the feel of her silky, smooth skin when his hands traced her full breasts and caressed her round ass. He inhales deeply, remembering how she would straddle him and how he pulled her close and sucked her nipples hard, the way she demanded.
He remembers how she would lay across the bed, spread her legs wide, and lick the tips of her fingers. He remembers the sounds of her moans and the quickening of her breath as she moved her hips up and down. He remembers getting harder and harder as he reveled in her self-pleasure, eagerly awaiting her signal. And when she sucked her fingers, he knew she was ready for him to finish what she started. He remembers how he hungrily buried his head between her thighs: kissing, sucking, and worshipping her like a rabid animal. And when she shuddered, he remembers lapping up every drop as she quivered in his mouth. His tongue moves across his lips again, searching for a trace of her sweetness, but too many years have passed.
He watches the material strain against her ass and remembers the feel of her soft lips gently kissing and sucking his sac as if they were prized baubles in the Crown Jewels collection. His pants twitch when he remembers the red streaks she left as her mouth glide up and down his erection, bringing him close to the brink. She always loved having him in her mouth, she was insatiable in that way. He remembers how he would beg her, without shame, to let him cum, and he remembers how her laughter filled the air because she controlled both their pleasure. When she finally granted him permission, he remembers how alive he felt as he flowed endlessly into her mouth. And, he remembers she always swallowed, unlike his wife, and that made him love her even more. He closes his eyes and remembers how her glorious mouth would quickly bring him back to life so he could slide inside. And when they were completely one, he remembers how the tears streamed down his face because she felt like home and he did not give a damn how many men had been there before him.
They always made love no less than three times, sometimes four, if they could summon the energy. And when they were thoroughly fulfilled, they would lay in each other's arms for hours, planning their future together once he was the mayor and she was the city's First Lady. And when it was time for him to return to work or go home to Yvonne and the children, he remembers, like new lover, how they always planned their next time together. No other woman has ever made him feel the way she made him feel and he knows no other woman ever will.
Fighting back the tears, he shakes his head in despair because all he has left of them are his memories. And, unfortunately, his hand has become a poor substitute for her mouth during his morning and evening shower. He feels pathetic because he has been doing a lot of that lately while his wife lay asleep in their bedroom.
Her slightest movement cause the dress to shift across her ass and he wants to bend her over that desk and make sweet love to her as he unashamedly pleads in her ear for forgiveness. But she has rejected him, wants nothing to do with him. He is not worthy of her because he caved in when things got tough. So now she has set her sights on Fitzgerald Grant, a man who can give her everything she has ever desired. He balls his hand into a tight fist because the thought of her sucking and swallowing another man is almost too much for him to bear. His anger rises as he watches her offer herself to Fitz. Her movements are subtle, but he recognizes them all too well. The slight jutting of her hips as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. The placing of the index finger at the corner of her mouth, listening intently, as if whatever Fitz is saying is the most important thing in the world. She knows how to make a man feel like a man — make a man feel important — in and out of the bedroom. As he watches her performance, he does not know who he hates more, her for degrading herself in this way or himself for allowing them to get to this place.
Finally mustering the courage to make his presence known, he taps twice on the burled wood door. He never knocks. Victoria turns with a triumphant smirk on her face because she knows he has been watching her. He is always watching her. She sweeps her eyes over him with contempt, and he wants to crawl into the deepest hole.
"Darius — come in — we were just finishing up", Fitz says, smiling as his friend silently walks into the office. "I'm sure you're more than ready to chow down - ready to chew off your arm I suspect", Fitz says jokingly.
"Well, I better let you two gentlemen get to your meeting", Victoria says, turning back to Fitz with a warm smile.
"Thank you, Victoria, for listening to my parental problems."
"No, thanks necessary, sir. I'm sure Cena is going to be fine. Just give her some time." Darius balls his fist tighter when he hears the subtle flirtation in her voice. "Enjoy your lunch, Councilman Moton", she smiles at him with cold eyes as she walks from the office and closing the door behind her.
"Let's dig in, Darius, we have a lot to discuss today", Fitz says, walking around the desk and toward the spread of food on the credenza. Darius is in no mood to eat, his appetite vanished before he set foot into the office.
XXX
Darius sees Fitz' lips moving but he hardly hears anything the man is saying. He can only think about her red lips kissing and sucking Fitz.
"So, what do you think?" Fitz asks through chews, shaking Darius from his thoughts.
"I'm sorry — what did you say?" Giving Fitz a blank stare.
"Is something wrong, Darius? You seem distracted today. And you've hardly touched your lunch — which we both know is highly unusual", he chuckles.
"Wilson's trying to undermine your agenda before the hearings begin. He has his people going through it with a fine-toothed comb — he's coming after you", tossing his napkin onto the table in frustration.
Taken aback by the out-of-the blue comment, Fitz stops chewing, slowly sets his fork onto the side of the plate, and stares at Darius. Under the thinly veiled guise of a mentor cautioning his mentee, Darius lashes out at Fitz. Each word that spills from his mouth is more vicious than the last. He is a jealous ex-lover who is going to take down his replacement.
"You didn't think he was going to sit back and let you block him from selling off the police department – did you? You know he owes his donors. You can't keep acting like some damn rookie if you want to make a difference in this city. You can't walk around here with your head in the clouds — or doing whatever you do in this office — while Wilson plots against you."
With lips pressed in an angry, thin line, Fitz' blood begins to boil and he prepares to retaliate. He does not know what the hell is wrong with Darius, but he will not be chastised like a child by Darius or anyone else.
"Submitting your agenda was just the battle — now the war begins. And you need to figure out if you're up for the fight — or if you're going to cave when things get tough — because things are about to get real nasty. Wilson will use every trick in the book to discredit you — to bring you down — so you better be clean. Are you clean, Mr. President?"
Darius is becoming more agitated, talking a mile a minute and sweating profusely. Fitz crinkles his brow, now realizing something is wrong. He sits back in the chair and closely eyes the ranting man.
"You didn't actually think Wilson was going to hand this city over to you on a goddamn silver platter — did you? He's building support for his budget with his supporters in council — and what the hell are you doing? Is this all a game for you? Are you just playing at politics until you get bored and return to that fancy business of yours?"
"Those campaign promises you codified into your agenda will go down in flames if Wilson has his way. So, you better make damn sure you have enough votes in council and the community is behind you."
"Darius — "
"And, you have to decide if you're a part of this city or if you're just a goddamn interloper.
You can't say you're fighting for the interests of the people when you have one foot in and one foot out — no matter what the hell you tell yourself - you have to be all in. Are you all in, Mr. President?"
Fitz furrows his brow and watches as usually confidant man unravels before him.
"Wilson will cut your legs from under you while you're standing and laugh while doing it. You gotta start seeing this kind of shit coming or he'll have you for lunch", angrily pushing aside his untouched lunch. "You think Charlie Barber was vicious — who the hell do you think wrote his playbook?"
Fitz' eyes widen and his heart rate quickens at the mention Charlie's name. The dead man still has an effect on him. Darius stands abruptly and stomps toward the door.
"You better get something on Wilson — shut him down — before he shuts you down."
Shaken by the mention of Charlie's name and what the animal almost did to his family, Fitz walks over to the desk, snatches open the drawer, and the bottle of pills rolls forward. He stares at the brown plastic bottle for a long while, then slams the drawer shut.
XXX
Darius stomps past Victoria's desk, hurries to his office, and slams the door behind him. He paces around the office feeling ashamed and embarrassed about his jealous outburst. He has to get his shit together. He cannot risk a setback and he damn sure cannot risk Yvonne finding out about the affair. She already suspects something is wrong.
When Victoria refused to continue the affair after he dropped out of the mayoral race, Darius spiraled into a deep depression. After a few weeks of not getting out of bed, Yvonne insisted he seek therapy. His loving and caring wife thought he was depressed because he dropped out the mayoral race to support her through the breast cancer. But the truth of the matter, he was a man in love with a woman who was not his wife. And, he was heartbroken because the love of his life no longer wanted anything to do with him.
Darius worked hard over the past two-and-a-half years to get over her, or at least pretend to have gotten over her. But today brought back all the memories, and when he watched her flirting with Fitz, he could no longer fake it. So, he lost it, fell apart, and took out his hurt on an unsuspecting Fitz. God only knows what Fitz thinks of him now.
XXX
Olivia glances down at her watch and thinks Kelly should be on her way to the women's executive restroom. She wants to speak with Kelly before she begins her work and, hopefully, Kelly will agree to have the private conversation in her office.
"Excuse me - Kelly?" Olivia says to the women who is bent at the waist wiping down the shower walls. When the woman turns around Olivia frowns, somewhat discombobulated. "Oh —I'm so sorry — I thought you were Kelly."
"Kelly's not here today. I'll be finished in a minute so you can get in here, ma'am."
"Take your time", Olivia says as she turns and leaves. She takes a few steps down the hall then walks back into the restroom.
"Excuse me – my name is Olivia —what is your name?" With face twisted in frustration, the woman sighs as she looks up at Olivia.
"Rhonda", she says, placing a hand on her hip.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you, Rhonda, but would you happen to know if Kelly will be back to work tomorrow?"
Rhonda sighs again because she does not have time for the chatty executive. She is already behind schedule because when she arrived at work this morning she was told she would have to clean the bathrooms on her assigned floors and the executive bathrooms. This happens every time Kelly is out sick. Maybe she should slip and fall so she can have an excuse to sit at home and watch daytime television.
"I have no idea. Nobody tells me nothin' around here. You should ask Miss Deanna", turning her back and resuming her work.
"Thank you, Rhonda", Olivia says to the woman's back before exiting the bathroom to find Deanna.
XXX
"Deanna", Olivia says somewhat hurriedly as she approaches the reception area.
"Why hello, Olivia. I'm sorry I missed you when you came in. It's been such a hectic morning."
"No worries, Deanna", wanting to quickly dispense with the pleasantries. "Deanna, Rhonda told me that Kelly is out sick today."
"Yes — poor thing. I hope she has someone to help her with her lovely daughter this time."
Olivia furrows her brow.
"Oh — of course you wouldn't know. Kelly broke her arm last year — slipped while cleaning the shower. The injury flares up periodically — and of course she cannot perform her duties with an injured arm."
"Of course,", Olivia says with genuine concern. "Do you know when Kelly will return to work?"
"Perhaps in a few weeks. That's usually how long she is out."
"I see. Thank you, Deanna. I guess I'd better get back to work", flashing Deanna a smile before walking back to her office
"Olivia, dear, may I order you lunch?"
"No — thank you, Deanna. I don't have much of an appetite right now. I'm just going to work a few more hours before going home."
XXX
Neither Fitz nor Cena is enthusiastic about playing the board game tonight, but for totally different reasons. So, after two unexciting games, Calvin stretches and yawns, announcing he is turning in for the night. Gwendolyn struggles to stand from the floor to join her husband.
"I'll put away the game, Princess. You go upstairs with mommy and get ready for bed." Olivia looks up from her tablet then over at her husband. Something is wrong, he has been quiet all evening.
"Come on, Cee. Let's get ready for bed. Give Nana and Grandpop hugs and kisses."
"Goodnight, Nana. Goodnight, GranPop", Cena says gloomily as she kisses each on the cheek.
"Goodnight, Cena", Gwendolyn says, giving her granddaughter a tight and reassuring hug.
"Don't let the bedbugs bite", Calvin says with a smile. When Cena does not question one of her grandfather's old idioms, Calvin knows his granddaughter is really down in the dumps.
"Don't forget daddy, Cee."
"Goodnight, daddy", she says softly, giving her father a hug and kiss.
"Goodnight, Princess", tapping her on the nose. "I'll be up shortly to tuck you in."
After he puts away the game, Fitz walks over to the bar for a hefty pour of scotch, no rocks this time. When the girls came along, he decided to limit his drinking to special occasions. But today has been stressful and he wants something to take the edge off. He takes a long swig, and as the smooth liquid flows down this throat, he vows he will not allow himself to get hooked on any damn pills. He has to think about his family. He sits on the sofa and thinks about Darius' unusual behavior earlier. Frankly, the man's behavior was disturbing and unsettling; something is not right. The rambling rant is out of character and Fitz wonders if Darius and Yvonne are having marital problems. He sighs, takes a long sip, and closes his eyes as he savors the taste of the malty liquor. He really loves scotch.
He leans against the back cushion and stares at one of Jolie's stuffed animal sprawled on the floor, reflecting on what Darius said about reading the landscape, seeing the possible repercussions of his actions, seeing how one action can trigger another. He made that mistake with Charlie and is still paying. He thought things were over after the fight and after he won the election. He takes another sip and swears not to make the same mistake again. He pulls the phone from his pocket and sends Victoria a text to schedule a meeting as soon as possible. He downs the remainder of the drink, picks up Jolie's toy from the floor, and turns out the lights.
XXX
"Hey, Princess, are you asleep?" He asks, sitting onto the bed.
"No", Cena says softly, turning onto her back and looking up at her father. "You smell funny, daddy."
He smiles and taps her on the nose.
"Daddy?"
"Hmm?"
Why doesn't Asha's mommy like me?"
"Aw, sweetheart, it's not that she doesn't like you – who wouldn't like such a smart and beautiful Princess?" Kissing his daughter on the forehead.
"Then why can't Asha be my friend anymore?" Folding her arms.
"Honestly, sweetheart, I don't know. But trust me – you trust me, right?" Cena shakes her head up and down. "It's not your fault – you did nothing wrong. Sometimes adults do things that don't make sense. Okay?"
Cena nods her head up and down then turns on her side, ready to fall asleep.
"I love you, daddy", he says with a smile.
"I love you more, sweetheart", kissing the top of her head before walking down the hall to the nursery.
XXX
"You gave me Goodnight Moon duty tonight", Olivia says playfully as he walks into the room. "Luckily Cee wasn't in the mood for more than one reading tonight", shaking her head as she walks over to the vanity table.
"You know it wouldn't kill you to read it every now and then", he says somewhat annoyed. "Cena still enjoys it. Stunned by his response, Olivia watches as he walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
"Did you speak with Kelly?" He calls out from the bathroom.
"No — "
"Olivia – I asked you to speak with her today", he snaps.
"If you would let me finish my sentence then you would know Kelly wasn't at work today. Sheesh. Deanna said she'll be out for a while. Apparently, she has some sort of injury that sometimes prevents her from working."
Olivia tosses her earrings onto the silver tray as her grumpy husband walks back into the bedroom and snatches open his drawer looking for pajama pants.
"Babe, did you know that 30 percent of the children in the city live at or below the poverty line? The research shows there is a direct link between poverty and a child's ability to learn."
Fitz sighs as he rifles through the drawer for a pair of pajamas.
"Social class is the biggest influence on how ready to learn a child is when she first walks through the doors of kindergarten. I'm happy Fred is committed to ending inter-generational poverty."
"Damn billionaires", he mumbles as he pulls on the pants.
"What did you say?" Looking at him with brow arched.
"Nothing", he says grumpily as he digs in another drawer for a tee shirt.
"Don't say nothing", looking at his reflection in the mirror as she removes her necklace.
"I don't want to discuss this with you", he says tiredly, pulling the tee shirt over his head.
"What do you mean you don't want to discuss this with me?" Tossing the necklace onto the tray.
"Because you get too emotional about these things. It'll only end in an argument."
"Emotional?" Turning and looking at him with a hand on her hip.
"Besides, we agreed not to do this — discuss business in our bedroom — or have you forgotten that, too?" She frowns because he has been persnickety all evening.
"Well, I think that's ridiculous since we're working on the same issues."
"One — it's not ridiculous because we agreed", glaring at her and daring her to say she has changed her mind. "Two — we're not working on the same issues. I write legislation to help the people of this city, you're working with a billionaire who wants to control the lives of those living in poverty - decide how poor children are educated. Bryson's dabbling in public education."
"That's not true. Fred is dedicated to the city and he's willing to put his money where his mouth is to help those who live in impoverished communities. And are you saying I'm also dabbling in public education?"
"Liv, please, not tonight." He is tired and frustrated by the politics and not in the mood to debate his wife.
"Why not tonight? Why can't we discuss our shared work projects?"
"You see that's the damn problem — you thinking we have a shared work project. Well we don't. And it's problems – plural. The city has a million of them."
"Well I didn't know how bad things were with the schools until – "
"Just because you're just learning about the problems doesn't mean they didn't already exist."
If she did not love him she would leap across the room and wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze that Adam's apple until the life slowly left his body. He has been moody all evening so she ignores the smart-ass comment.
"If we can work together to help put an end to inter-generational poverty – "
"Work together?" Looking at her like she is insane. "Contrary to popular opinion in this bedroom — you're not the 10th member of council, nor are you my co-president."
"What?" Surprised by his outburst.
"Go to bed, Olivia", he says with frustration as he yanks at the tightly tucked covers.
"Go to bed? Who am I Cena? You don't tell me when to go to bed", folding her arms across her chest and watching him trying to pull back the bed covers.
"Dammit", he growls. "And we're firing Hildie. I mean it this time, Liv. I can never get into this damn bed. I don't know why the hell she's started tucking the covers so damn tight again. And— what' s wrong with her cooking lately?" Olivia begins to laugh hysterically, which only angers him more.
"What's so funny?" Scowling at her.
"We're not firing Hildie."
"Then I don't want her making our bed any longer."
Giving up on trying to pull back the covers, he sits on the side of the bed and sulks. Olivia sits next to him, rubbing her hand up and down his back.
"What's the matter, babe? You've been in a foul mood all evening."
"The goddamn city is a mess – everybody has an agenda. Everything is a damn battle. Work is stressful enough — I don't want our home to be stressful, too. I don't want you stressed."
"I'm not stressed — why would I be stressed? I'm now clear on what I'm going to deliver to Fred."
"I don't want to have a partnership with you, Liv. Geoffrey is my business partner and I don't want you as my political partner. I want a wife. I want us. I want our family. I want work and our family life kept separate. I don't want to come home and discuss failing schools, gentrification, or any of the millions of problems in the city. Do you understand that?" She studies his face for a while and sees the stress in eyes. He looks tired.
"Okay", pecking him on the cheek. "Now stand up." He stands and watches as she pulls back the covers with ease. "Go to bed, babe. Get some rest."
For the next hour, Olivia watches her grumpy husband sleep and wonders what happened at City Hall today. She pecks him on the lips then walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind her.
XXX
Victoria rolls her eyes when she sees one of Fitz' ragtag supporters walking toward the reception area. At least he didn't bring the rest of that motley crew. As Rashid approaches the reception area, he wonders how Mr. Grant got stuck with a witch for his assistant. He chuckles to himself wondering who Mr. Grant pissed off. The woman might be pretty on the outside, but it is clear she has an ugly spirit.
"I have a 9:15 with the council president", Rashid says without salutation, setting his briefcase onto the edge of the desk. Not bothering to acknowledge his presence, Victoria glances at the tattered briefcase then walks over to the office. She knocks on the door two times.
"Mr. Grant, your 9:15 is here", dehumanizing Rashid by referring to him as an hour on a clock.
"Thank you, Victoria. Please send in Rashid", standing and sliding on his suit jacket. Victoria presses her back against the door and motions her head for Rashid to enter. Rashid ignores her as he walks into the office.
"Rashid, it's good to see you", Fitz says with a genuine smile as he walks from behind the desk to shake the young man's hand.
"Hello, Mr. Grant", Rashid says flatly, accepting the handshake. Victoria rolls her eyes again as she closes the door.
"Can I offer you something to drink?" Motioning toward the credenza that houses the assortment of beverages and fruit.
"No thank you - I'm good."
Although several weeks have passed since their argument in this very office, Rashid is still angry. He believes Mr. Grant reneged on his agreement to support charter schools.
"Have a seat – please", motioning to the chairs placed around the conference table. He wants to reestablish their personal relationship, not allow the desk to put more distance between them. "I wanted to meet – just the two of us – without distraction – to explain my policy on charter schools."
Rashid sits in one of the chairs and sets his briefcase on another chair. He waits for Fitz to continue.
"Rashid, I know you're not pleased with the legislation - the moratorium - I've proposed. In fact, you're probably disappointed – and I understand that."
Rashid remains stone-faced.
"I want to do whatever I can to help you understand my decision — give you every opportunity to ask any question you want."
"It's a little late for that don't you think. You already submitted your agenda to council."
"Rashid, we both want the same thing."
"Why did you ask me here today, Mr. Grant?" He asks with frustration.
"It's easy to make promises when campaigning — it is a different story when you have to govern", Fitz confesses.
Rashid sighs. "At least you're now being honest", he says angrily.
"Rashid, we both want the children of this city to get a quality education."
"Well they won't get one as long as they're forced to go to those failure factories. Those schools are nothing more than a systematic plan to fill the prisons."
"Public charter schools are not the silver bullet either. Some of them have as many challenges as the traditional district schools."
"And doing nothing is not an option", Rashid shoots back. "You're taking away parents' choice. You really fooled us — me. I really believed you were different - but you're no better than the establishment, do-nothing career politicians. Get into office and forget about the people who got you there", Rashid says with disdain.
"I understand that you're angry."
"Don't patronize me, Mr. Grant."
"I'm not patronizing you – nor am I suggesting we do nothing. I'm proposing a moratorium on opening new charters so we can take time to understand the problems — so in the future parents have a pool of quality schools to choose from."
"You want to close charters."
"I'm going to shut down failing charters. Failing charters do nothing to close the achievement gap."
"Incremental change is being made at some of those so-called failing charters."
"Well incremental change isn't good enough for me. Is it good enough for you?"
The two men glare at each other.
"When you shut down those schools you'll have to tell the parents — those children — that they have to go back to their neighborhood school or find another charter that will accept them."
"The School District has been plagued with problems for decades. We are not going to fix the problems overnight, Rashid."
"I told you before — our children — the children who actually live in this city — don't have time for another damn study."
"No charter will be closed during the moratorium - not even those that aren't meeting the mark. But, we need time to study why some charters are successful and why others aren't."
"What about vouchers? Give families vouchers so they can send their children wherever they want. That's real choice" Fitz runs a hand through his hair and expels a loud sigh.
"I'm for the voucher system - I am. But the problem with vouchers is every taxpayer has access to them — regardless of income or need. Families who already have their children in private schools can enroll them into a public school one day and walk right back out the door the next with dollars earmarked for the public schools and put their children back in a private school. The voucher system allows people like me to take needed money from the public school system to send their children to the select private schools. Most of the families in this city can't afford to make up the difference in tuition to send their children to private schools."
"All private schools aren't elite, Mr. Grant. There are some good and affordable private schools."
"Rashid – we need to try to fix the system we have right now before we can think about handing out vouchers."
Then it sounds like we're having a circular discussion."
"No - I'm saying we have to work on one problem at a time. Rashid - I want to do what is best for the children of this city. To do that — I'm going to need your help. If the people are going to buy into the moratorium they need to know that you and the others support it. Will you work with me?"
"It sounds like you're asking me to sell out", Rashid says defiantly. "I'm no longer interested in doing your bidding, Mr. Grant."
"I'm asking you to compromise – not sell out", looking Rashid in the eyes. "Sometimes you have to compromise to get what you want - but you never have to sell out yourself or the people of this city." Rashid looks at Fitz for a long while, contemplating what he said.
"I need time to think about this. I have to discuss it with the others."
"Of course. The hearings start in a few months."
"I'll get back to you before then. Have a good day, Mr. Grant", standing and grabbing his briefcase from the chair.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Rashid", Smiling as he shakes the young man's hand. Rashid walks over to the door, stops for a moment, and looks into the council president's eyes.
"By the way, Mr. Grant, you wouldn't qualify for a voucher— you don't live in the city."
XXX
A few days have passed since Darius' unexpected eruption and Fitz has not seen him since. Although the accusations were hurled in a fit of rage, they are no less thought-provoking or true. The jarring outburst has challenged Fitz to do some serious soul-searching and question his commitment to the city. Darius accurately called him out for wanting to have it both ways — for wanting to keep one foot in and one foot out the city. And, that is exactly what he has been doing. In fact, he has been resistant to Olivia wanting to move to the city, frequently countering her reasons for wanting to move with the benefits of suburban living and the argument they can find many ways to expose their daughters to more diversity. Stuffing his hands deep into his pants pockets, he stares out the window and sighs. He wonders if he can truly be committed to the people who voted for him if he is unwilling to live where they live. Frankly, he is not sure if he wants to spend his time trying to help fix a city that many seemingly do not care about. He is not sure if he wants to try to persuade a disengaged council to fulfill their legislative responsibilities. He is not sure if he wants to go to war with Wilson. Above all, he is not sure if being a politician is good for his family. He lets out a heavy sigh, picks up the City Charter and reads it again.
XXX
"How do we know if we can trust him? I no longer believe our interests are his interests", Rashid argues.
"Mr. Grant is a good man. Besides, what difference will a year make?"
"I guess you would say that since he bought you off with that fancy job", Rashid snipes.
"Go to hell, Rashid", Marcus shoot back, running a hand down his chest to smooth his tie.
"Hey – hey. We can't turn on each other", Marcella says, positioning her body between Rashid and Marcus. "This is not about us. This is about trying to do what's best for the children. Turning on each other does nothing to get us there."
"He's already changed his position once — how do we know he won't do it again?"
"Technically, he didn't change his position. It seems like once he got into office he was able to really understand the problem - he adjusted his thinking."
"That's called changing your mind - no matter where you work", Rashid shouts and Marcella sighs because once these two go at it there's no stopping them.
"You can't be so entrenched in your position that you hurt the very people you claim you're trying to help", Marcus retorts.
"Says the man who has left his neighborhood behind without looking back. Look at you, wearing a tailored suit and those damn shoes." Sweeping his eyes over Marcus as if he is disgusted by the sight of him.
"What the hell do you want from me, Rashid? Would it make you happy if I still lived in Roosevelt? Would it make you happy if I still lived in that dilapidated apartment? What the hell is point of fighting for these kids to get an education if you're going to relegate them to what they already have. Isn't the point of getting an education to enable them to live a better life? With chest rising and falling and nostrils flaring, Marcus glares at Rashid.
"Every damn body who doesn't look like us are clamoring to move into our city — take over our neighborhoods. They're coming here with their foreign cars and mini dogs and they have the nerve to look at us like we don't belong there. These are our neighborhoods. We've lived here all our lives. And people like you — once they get a decent job - want to move the hell out."
"When did I become the enemy, Rashid? Just because I choose to live elsewhere and wear nice clothes. Does supporting the community mean I have to remain poor? If that's what you're fighting for then count me the hell out", kicking a chair across the room.
"Okay, let's calm down", Marcella says, looking at the chair sliding across the floor, but Marcus is not finished. He is tired of the Rashid's self-righteousness.
"If you want to continue to live in Tilghman – then fine – do so. Bu don't criticize me because I no longer choose to live in the 'hood. Don't call me a sell-out because I'm doing exactly what we're fighting to give our children the opportunity to do."
"Don't you get it – they're trying to displace us. You see what they've done down at the waterfront – moved all those people out and put up those fancy condos."
"For God's sake, Rashid, how many battles do you want to fight? Marcus asks tiredly. "Do you want to fight for quality schools - or do you now want to fight against gentrification - or do you just want to fight?" Shaking his head from side to side. "I have to go. For what it's worth - I vote for the moratorium", Marcus says as he walks from the room. Marcella and Jason look at each other.
"We have to find common ground", Jason finally speaks. "There is a quid pro quo, in a literal sense. Mr. Grant's interests are our interests. And, for the record, I'm fighting for better schools."
"The man doesn't even live in the city. His kids don't even go to our schools. He doesn't have any skin in the game", Rashid counters.
"I don't give a damn if his children go to our schools or not. I'm fighting for quality schools for the children who live here", Jason says. "Mr. Grant is in an influential position and can still help our cause - so I vote to support the moratorium."
"Nobody's perfect, Rashid", Marcella says, looking at him pleadingly. "I also vote to support the moratorium."
XXX
Hildie shakes her head as she stands at the stove preparing breakfast. Mr. Grant is agitated about something this morning because he has called Mrs. Grant upstairs no less than three times for one reason or another.
"Liv — Olivia", he yells louder, as he looks over the bannister outside their bedroom. He
paces back and forth in the hall and calls his wife again.
"I'll finish feeding the baby, ma'am", Hildie volunteers.
"Thank you, Hildie", Olivia says somewhat exasperated. "Jo, your daddy is being a pain this morning", standing to go see what her husband now wants. His yelling is only making her headache worse.
"Oliv — "
"What is it, Fitz? You have to stop yelling this morning", rubbing her right temple. "Why aren't you dressed", looking at his untucked shirt.
"Where are they?" Looking at her with desperation in his eyes.
"Babe, I do many things, but I don't read minds. Where's what?" He exhales a loud sigh and throws his hands up in frustration and stomps into their bedroom.
"My special cuff links. You've moved them again."
"I did no such thing. Why would I move your cuff links?" Following him into the room.
"Liv — please. You know I need to wear them today."
"You should calm down. You're going to be fine. The council will agree with you. If Wilson had any decency he would have stepped down long ago."
"My cuff links, Liv", not interested in her pep talk right now. He made up his mind a few days ago what he needed to do.
"You know, babe, I still can't believe you' re superstitious", walking into the closet and sliding open his valet drawer.
"It's not superstition, Liv", annoyed by the thought he would believe in such a thing. "It's just a fact that everything always goes well when I wear them."
"Babe, I bought those cuff links for your birthday long after we were married. How do you account for all your successes before you got them – before we were married?"
"The cuff links, Liv", he says, growing more agitated.
"Call it whatever you want — but it's nothing but plain old superstition", still searching the drawer for the little black leather box. "For someone who is so rational — here they are", waving the box in the air. "Apparently, they fell — "
"Just put them on, Liv", holding out his arms. "I have to get going."
"Why do I have to put them on — "
"Because that's part of the ritual. Things always go well when you put them on."
"My point exactly", shaking her head as she fastens the jewelry to the cuffs of his shirt.
"Can you meet me for lunch today – after council?" Sliding on his suit jacket.
"I don't think so, babe. I have too much to do. You know Jo's birthday is next month."
He sighs.
You're going to be fine", standing on her toes and brushing her lips across his. She presses her hand to the back of his head and glides her tongue over his lips, grazing her fingernails through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. She smiles because he got a haircut yesterday. She backs him against the wall and tugs at his tie and they moan as she squeezes his lips with hers. She deftly slides her tongue into his mouth and he slowly circles her tongue with his. She slips into a deep kiss as she unbuckles his belt, and he moans softly. Ears aflame, he wraps his arms around her and kisses her passionately as her fingers find the pull tab and slides it down. The sound of the sliding zipper shakes him from the haze and he jumps back and stares at her like a frightened deer.
"What?" She asks, still trying to slide down the zipper.
"I gotta go, Liv", hurrying into the bedroom and zipping his pants.
"All right, but you owe me, babe", swatting his butt as he looks in the mirror and adjusts his tie.
"You' re pretty randy this morning", he says, buckling his belt.
"Well you kept calling me up here. What did you expect?" She says, smiling mischievously.
"Try to meet me for lunch", pecking her on the lips before leaving the bedroom.
XXX
When the council president opens the side door to the council chambers, Ernest, the sergeant-at-arms, immediately calls the special session to order and the nine council members and stenographer stand as Fitz enters the room. When he takes his place at the podium, Ernest announces everyone can be seated.
"Thank you, Ernest", Fitz says, smiling politely at his sergeant-at-arms as he pulls the speech from the inside jacket pocket. He sets the papers onto the podium and glances around the room at the members of council. Slumped in his chair, Darius looks down at his phone, avoiding eye contact with Fitz. Henri smiles eagerly and Johnston sits back in his chair waiting to find out what the special session is all about. Wilson's toadies wear scowls on their faces, none too interested in being involved in whatever is about to happen. With fingers poised, the stenographer waits for the council president to begin.
Good morning and thank you for joining me for this special session of council. I have called this closed session to address matters that have plagued this austere body for many years. A snake has found its way into our garden and it has negatively influenced what we were all elected to do — and that is to serve the people of this city.
For decades, this council and its leadership have failed the people of this fine city. This council has allowed our government to be the object of a hostile takeover, engineered by a confederacy of corruption, cronyism, and campaign consultants.
Outraged by the attack the council president has levied against they, the members of council grumble and squirm in their seats. Ernest looks at Fitz out of the corner of his eye thinking things just got real.
As articulated in the City Charter, the city founders wisely structured the city government into three distinct - but equal entities: the Executive, Legislative, and Judicial. But somewhere along the way the Legislative branch decided to cede its authority to the city's Executive - capitulating to the Executive — and acting more like the mayor's employees rather than his equal.
"This is outrageous shouts one of Wilson's supporters." Fitz looks over at the red-faced councilman and Ernest takes a step toward the man and places his hand on his holster. The councilman looks at Ernest's hand resting on his gun and leans back in his seat. He throws a pencil across the room in protest.
Our city is in trouble - and we can no longer turn a blind eye to the corruption that has plagued - and continues to plague our government. It is time we start working together and rise above the particular interests of a few. It is time we work across all interest groups in government, business, unions, and even individual citizens to do what is best for this city. It is time we rise to the occasion and build a larger vision for a city of which we can all be proud. And, it is time we take back what the founders of city deemed to be our responsibilities as legislators.
So today, in this place, I am asking you to join me in passing the resolution to sanction the Executive branch — to limit the mayor's ability to issue Executive directives, until the public can participate in the budget hearings over the summer.
An audible gasp escapes the mouths of the council members and mutterings and grumblings fill the room. The members look at each other wondering if they really heard what they thought they heard. The stenographer stops typing and looks over at her friend Ernest, who is looking up at the council president in disbelief. This is the most stunning thing he has heard in council chambers in the 30 years he has worked in City Hall. To say everyone is shocked would be an understatement. What the new council president is asking is bold and unprecedented. This is a watershed moment.
Darius finally looks up at Fitz with surprise and respect, thinking the man has gone further than he ever would have imagined. Fitzgerald Grant definitely has balls, big balls. Proposing to sanction the mayor is brilliant. Doing so prevents Wilson from harming the city further, and hamstrings him until his trial begins. If the council approves the resolution, Wilson can kiss good-bye any chance of getting his budget approved while he is in the middle of a corruption trial. Darius smiles, and with a slight nod of his head, silently congratulates his friend.
And, we must all decide if we are all in — if we are all really committed to making this city great again. We must stick together and not acquiesce when things get tough. So, I stand here today to let you know that I am all in. I am committed to this city and I am willing to use the power of my office to make shit happen.
He looks at Darius and nods, silently saying, I heard you.
In closing, I would like to quote Sir Winston Churchill: Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.
XXX
The necktie was discarded long ago and now the once crisp white shirt sleeves are rolled up to his forearms. He won the council over — at least for the next few months. The council passed Fitz' resolution to sanction Mayor Wilson by an overwhelming majority. And today, Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Third proved he really is the most powerful man in the city, and giving everyone in the city a lesson on how their local government is supposed to work. As he sits at his desk, he sighs because he knows his victory will be short-lived. He just fired the first shot in the Grant-Wilson war and Wilson is not going to take being sanctioned lightly. Not having the power to pay back his donors is going to send him through the roof, and Fitz knows he has to be ready this time.
Victoria enters the office carrying a fresh carafe of coffee and walks across the room and sets the carafe onto the credenza behind the desk. She intentionally bumps the array of family photos and diffuser. She pours him a cup and sets it on the desk next to his phone.
"Thank you", lifting the cup to his lips. He did not have breakfast before he left the house this morning.
"Nice cuff links", Victoria says as she looks at the shiny objects on the desk. He sets the cup back onto the saucer and smiles as picks up the special cuff links. Bouncing them in the palm of his hand, he thinks about his wife.
"Liv gave them to me — a birthday present", dropping them into his shirt pocket. He never wants to lose them.
"Everyone is talking about how you took the Council to task — shamed them for being Wilson's lackeys."
"My goal wasn't to shame anyone, Victoria. I simply wanted to remind the legislators of their duty — why people voted for them. I needed to remind them that the people of this city are counting on them to help make their lives better. I needed to remind them they work for the people — no one else."
"Whatever your reasons — everyone in this building is talking about what you accomplished - historic", smiling at him with admiration. She finds his authenticity and strength extremely attractive. He is a man of integrity and a man of action, consequences be damned. He is the real deal.
"I'm sure the man on the fifth floor is none too happy", he says, looking down at the ringing cell phone.
"I need to take this, Victoria", smiling as he picks up the phone from the desk.
"Of course,", she says with a fake smile as she turns to leave. She knows Olivia is calling so she leaves the door slightly ajar so she can listen to his end of the conversation.
"Liv", he says, leaning back in the chair, his smile broadening. "It went surprisingly well. Except for two of Wilson's supporters, the council is onboard. Are you coming here for lunch — I'm hungry? Okay, give my messy-faced baby girl a kiss for me. Well she is. She always has something on her face. I'll see you when I get home — we have to talk. I love you, too."
XXX
It never takes long for news and rumors to travel through the corridors of City Hall, and the news that the mayor has been stripped of his authority has spread like wildfire. Work has come to a screeching halt as people from the fifth floor to the basement huddle around water coolers, in hallways, and in bathrooms spread the rumors about how the mayor and council president got into a fistfight on the floor of the council chambers when the decision to sanction was announced. Others say Ernest shot the mayor when Wilson pulled out a pistol and tried to shoot the council president. Whatever the case, Theodore Wilson has the unenviable honor of being the first mayor in the city's history to be sanctioned. As the news reverberates through the halls of the fifth floor, the mayor's assistant decides to take an early lunch. She does not want to be around when the man starts yelling and breaking things. She will have someone from maintenance come up later to clean whatever he has destroyed this time.
The media are clamoring for a response from the mayor and have circled the building waiting for him to stroll toward the ever-present black SUV. But Wilson remains locked in his office, throwing a tantrum and various objects against the wall. He is reaching his breaking point, living under the specter of a jail sentence for the past few months is taking its toll on him. With glass filled almost to the rim with bourbon, Wilson scowls as he looks out the window at the people going about their are clueless about what he has to do to make their lives better. They have no idea the kind of horse-trading he does to make things happen in this city. They are all ingrates. As for those weak-kneed, knuckle-dragging council members and that matinee idol they decided to follow, well they are all going to pay for rejecting him.
He ignores the phone ringing in the locked desk drawer andraises the glass to his lips. He does not have a damn thing to tell them. The council has boxed him out, blocked him from using the powers of the office. The City Charter states the mayor cannot be impeached unless convicted of a crime. However, the city's founding fathers, in their infinite wisdom, gave the council power to sanction the mayor for a period of time they deemed necessary. Wilson is crippled, unable to use his Executive authority to issue directives, which the city departments are legally obligated to enforce. Issuing an Executive directive was the last card he planned to play to privatize the police department. Now, he is left only with ceremonial responsibilities. He can give speeches at the Chamber of Commerce, serve as the Grand Marshall in parades, and participate in ribbon cuttings. As the phone continues to ring, Wilson downs the rest of the bourbon then hurls the glass against the wall. If he is going to have any chance of staying out of jail he has to stop Grant, and fast.
XXX
Fitz stretches across the bed and lay his head on his wife's lap. He slowly closes his eyes and expels a heavy sigh. It has been a stressful week, starting with Kelly, then Darius and Rashid, and now Wilson. His stress feels immeasurable. Olivia looks down at her husband and smiles as she rubs the excess body butter on his arm. She slowly massages his scalp because that always helps him to relax.
"You had a good day, babe. You gave the people hope again. I'm so proud of you."
Fitz remains silent, frowning slightly as if he is trying to solve a complex mathematical equation. He lets out another sigh, opens his eyes, and looks at her smiling face. He still thinks his wife is the most beautiful woman in the world and he will do anything to make her happy, especially during these stressful times.
"I'll call Joan tomorrow — have her start looking for houses in the city — just to give us an idea of what's out there", holding up a finger to temper her enthusiasm. Olivia's eyes widen at the unexpected announcement and stops massaging his scalp. It takes everything in her not to push him onto the floor so she can jump up and down.
"Okay", she says in her best unaffected voice as she silently screams with joy. Fitz turns onto his side, wraps his arms around her waist, and presses his lips to her nightgown.
"Good night, Liv."
"Good night, babe", smiling brightly as she resumes massaging his scalp.