Olivia stretched out her lithe body on a black Yoga mat and starred at the vaulted ceilings on the ground floor of Pope and Associates willing herself to get up. She had just finished a Bikram yoga class with her private instructor Alegra (so named for being a smiling cheerful newborn) who came highly recommended from a client. She was professional, efficient, and possessed a youthful glimmer that betrayed her age. Of course, yoga was supposed to be her "stay in the moment "and be present thing but who was she kidding with the attempted conversion to a new age wellness life style? She was Olivia Pope- the same woman who as a wee child of seven became slightly aggravated at the thought of her mother Maya making her late for swim class with excessive primping before driving down to their local Bethesda Pool.
No wonder then that even when paying a limber Spanish expat $300 for Yoga lessons in the pursuit of rest and relaxation, she still counted the minutes until the first beads of sweat appeared
Today it took exactly five and a half minutes. Olivia did not even bother considering how much money she had spent converting Stephen's gigantic vacant office into an office fitness studio. If he ever came grovelling back, he would have to understand her decision.
The sound of Alegra's metal water bottle rolling across the faux tile floor jolted her thoughts back to the present and she flashed the instructor a distracted smile.
"Thanks for coming on such short notice" Olivia said bending her neck to the side until she heard a crack
"Of course, Ms. Pope. No worries at all. See you next Thursday" Alegra replied, her dark brown pony tail disappearing behind the tinted glass doors.
Olivia laid on the heated floors for a few more moments, trying to collect her thoughts as memories from the weekend with Fitz raced through her mind.
She had rushed to his side when it became clear Edison would take home a presidential victory. Part of her desperately hoped she could remain aloof about the entire situation, especially after the Grant Campaign leaked behind the scenes footage of a doting Mellie helping him with debate prep a few days prior to Election Day. Mellie's alabaster skin had just a hint of sun thanks to some Laura Mercier Bronzer in Golden- she knew because she had suggested it back when they were on more innocent speaking terms. In the 30 second clip, she held on to a clipboard and lightly patted her husband's shoulder as he looked over his notes.
No doubt, this was a strategic leak meant to counter the initial assessment she offered before his campaign for Governor began all those years ago.
"You look like you don't screw your wife."
Still, this was unlike Cyrus to show his hand in such an obvious way. Her mentor must have been out of sorts during those final two weeks. Under normal circumstances, he never let anyone see him sweat. It wasn't a surprise the Electoral College finally delivered the results she predicted weeks before. Edison Davis was president elect.
What did catch her off guard was the fact that she failed at being distant despite her best efforts. Just imagining the depths of his devastation made the breath hitch in her throat but she could not bear to pick up the phone and call calls represented dangerous territory for them. Instead, she caught the next flight to LAX to meet him in person- a crowded and demoralized campaign headquarters would neutralize the magnets that always seemed to pull her into him. It would bolster her resolve.
Olivia was wrong on both counts. Her gut was never inaccurate except when it came to herself.
They ended up spending the night at the Beverly Wilshire and did all of the things she frequently imagined doing with him while her slim fingers filtered across her slick folds as she laid in bed alone at night.
She had gotten her fill of him and in their post coital bliss, Fitz revealed something unexpected.
(Flashback)
"Livvie" he murmured pulling her closer into the languid curve of his body on the king size bed.
She stretched out a lazy hand and gripped the five hundred count cotton sheets and exhaled the scent of their lovemaking, brown eyes flickering sleepily
"Yess" she murmured lazily, only half believing he was ready for another round so soon after their last.
There was a slight ache in her center, but she began to spread her legs again anyway, unsure of when their next chance rendezvous would be. His proposal however, was less indecent than she expected.
"Livvie? "He repeated once more, shaking her slight shoulders to make sure she was awake.
"I have this client you might wanna take on"
Her eyes opened fully at those words. It was unlike him to talk business in bed.
"Really?" she answered, stifling a yawn. "Who is it?"
" Well let's see, he is one time governor, from the state of California, married with two kids, daddy is dead, mother was long suffering, is currently nursing his wounds after losing the highest office in the land…"
She raised an eyebrow, unsure of where all of this was headed but still interjected playfully,
"Are you sure you can afford me Mr. Grant, my rates are premium you know"
"I wouldn't doubt it" he said, suppressing a chuckle. He loved how he was one of the few people she felt at ease enough to joke with.
Nevertheless, Fitz's face suddenly grew serious.
"I want a divorce" he said matter of factly
Wide doe eyes stared back at him. Olivia's face was virtually unreadable after that and the passing seconds grew agonizing.
"You want a divorce" she repeated slowly to herself, as if she couldn't hear him the first time.
"Yes" he replied. "I'm not asking for permission liv, I am asking for help because you are the best at what you do."
His conviction was astounding. Less than 48 hours ago, she feared this same man would unravel right in front of her, as she watched him deliver a tepid concession speech. And now he was saying words that nullified the impossibility of their relationship, she had long consigned herself to.
At times when she sat alone in her neutral walled apartment alone, nursing a crystal glass filled with Shiraz, she had imagined a moment like this more than she cared to admit. Now it was reality and she did not feel the surge of euphoria one might expect. Instead, what followed those words was a somber heaviness.
He wanted to end his marriage, yet she could not bring herself to be happy at the prospect.
She swallowed thickly and addressed him like she would any well -heeled, big money client who sauntered through her office doors with a small entourage in tow.
"Well Mr. Grant, write down some key goals and I'll give you a strategy and budget in less than 24 hours"
Fitz furrowed his brow. Olivia's formal tone surprised him and her quick movements out of bed, to rush into the bathroom hammered the point home.
Their cocoon had been broken, the air in the room shifted.
"I'm sorry I have to be in such a rush" she called back to him. I forgot my flight was at twelve o clock, not two"
Fitz shook his head. Olivia rarely forgot things involving time- that was the only micro managerial tendency one could accuse her off. Harrison Wright, her second in command could attest to that.
She was running, and a missed flight wasn't the only thing she was afraid of.
When she left the ensuite bathroom, she hurriedly put on her dress pants, and jacket as he stared at her incredulously.
"We will talk when I get back to D.C. Promise." She grabbed her purse and a set of keys and headed for the door.
"Liv can we have a sec-"
She interrupted before he could finish and mustered up a superb puppy dog face.
"Don't make me late "she pleaded.
Fitz nodded in agreement, and watched as she closed the door softly behind her.
Olivia finally got up from the floor ten minutes after Alegra left, and tried to focus on the case for the afternoon. The ne'er do well husband of a Kentucky Socialite had been stopped by highway patrol for drunk driving on a back woods country road. His companion of choice- an underage exotic entertainer named Sparklez and two of her very best friends, X and Molly.
Under normal circumstances, the full court press would have been easy enough to execute but Mrs. Bowles- Cunningham was as high maintenance as they came. She insisted on meeting Olivia in person because it was too difficult to understand Harrison's advice over the phone. She was one of the unlucky few who fell through the cracks of Harvard's preferential legacy admission's policies and felt no shame about being left behind. Yet Olivia, had developed a wry sense of sympathy for her like she did most of her clients . Money did not solve all of one's problems. She understood this fact better than most.
Regardless on this day, she wished the missus would cancel the appointment and give her some more time to think. She still hadn't called Fitz as she had promised, and much to her chagrin he hadn't called her either.
Just then a red coated devil promptly perched on her shoulder and spurned familiar whispers of pessimism through her thoughts
"He probably he wasn't serious about the whole divorce thing… "
She stopped to remove an imaginary speck of dirt from her fingernails as she rolled up the black yoga mat that previously lay underneath her, and headed towards the shower. That was $300 down the drain, she thought.
The impromptu Yoga session had done little to clear her head.
Still, as the mist from the steamy shower travelled up her nostrils, one profoundly simple idea took hold.
Her favourite potential client was right. She was the best damn fixer this side of the Potomac, and if defense was the first act of war, she was going to make sure Fitzgerald Grant had a damn good one.
She exited the shower and sunk her tiny feet into a plush rug, before rushing to her purse, fearing the momentary sense of clarity would disappear if she waited too long.
She pushed "2"on the touch screen, and immediately heard Harrison's smooth as velvet voice on the other end.
"Harry" she said sharply, the way she always did when a case needed some loose ends tied up.
"Listen… I have the research finished for Mrs. Southern Princess, relax"
"It's not about that" she replied.
I need you to do something for me, and keep the number of hands small. Preferably only you, but you can ask Huck for help if you absolutely must.
"What's going on Liv?" he asked his boss, hazel eyes squinting with concern.
"Nothing" she answered curtly.
"I just need you to assemble a kill file on Mellie Grant and Cyrus Beene. Every relationship, business contact, frenemy, one night stand- if Cy got fellatio in a Vienna bathroom from a 23 year old college student back in 1986, track him down. I want it all. "
Harrison nodded, trying to stifle a few questions of his own.
"Olivia, what's going on?" he began, but the line was already dead and all he heard was a dial tone on the other end.
He ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. He knew her well enough to not to call back.
A/N I feel bad for only updating once every couple of months, editing/writing is kinda a once in a blue moon/ whenever the mood hits sorta thing. Your wonderful reviews however are a great motivating force. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading.
MLH