As Olivia walked to meet Fitz for dinner, she replayed many of the moments from their fun afternoon. There were a lot of great ones. She kept coming back to how timid he had been, almost afraid to be honest about what he wanted, at first. This was new for her, and also unexpected. She was used to men being overly-forward almost to the point of aggression. Because of this dating experience, she found herself fighting fire with fire, trying to control situations and control people. It had never ended well, obviously. But this realization, that perhaps her response was not actually who she was as a person but just that, a response, was kind of a big deal.
Because what if she had just needed to be patient? To wait for the person who wouldn't force her to be someone else?
She shook her head. She had no way of knowing if Fitz was "the one." On the other hand, knowing there were men like Fitz was pretty good information to have.
She had dressed for dinner in a black cotton wrap dress. She wore silver ballet flats. No heels tonight. She wanted to give her feet a break, and she also liked feeling small and petite next to Fitz.
He had gotten to the restaurant first, which shouldn't have surprised her. It wasn't a big place, so she saw him near the back and waved off the host. He stood to greet her and handed her a single white rose.
"Much easier to carry if we take a stroll after dinner," he said, kissing her on the cheek.
"Thank you," she said, sitting down across the table from him. "How was your afternoon?"
He smiled, then looked down.
"What?" she asked.
"I missed you when you left," he said, slowly looking up and making eye contact with her. She bit her lip and put her hair behind her ear.
"You're going to need to not be so lovely if you expect me to be a gentlemen during dinner," he said with a playfully sinister grin.
It felt to Olivia like Fitz had heard her thoughts on the walk over, heard her call him timid. This man across the table was not acting timid.
"Who are you and what have you done with the Fitz who apologized for kissing me?" she asked, sitting forward and placing her chin on top of her hands, waiting for a response.
"You had some good points. I thought about them, and you, after you left. And you're right, I shouldn't feel like I have to apologize for how I'm feeling. It's just in my nature to try and do what's right, except with you I'm not sure what it is. So instead, I'll just say what I'm feeling."
She nodded.
"And to be clear, I'm feeling like I want to be kissing you again."
"Noted," she said, unfolding her napkin and putting it on her lap. "What looks good?" she said, opening her menu. She was messing with him. She hid behind the menu for a couple of seconds before peeking over the top to find him staring at her.
"I can't concentrate when I can feel your eyes through the menu," she said.
"How can we fix this situation?"
"What makes you think I know how to fix it?" she asked.
"I think you do." His voice was low, an almost-whisper.
She looked around. There was only one other table in use in their corner of the restaurant. Another couple, already enjoying their entrees. She set her menu down on the table and stood, leaning over the flowers and candle in the center. He had his forearms resting on the table and she put a hand on each one. She felt a small shudder but couldn't tell if it came from him or her. She leaned forward and gave him a soft, slow kiss. It wasn't particularly passionate, but it was full of feeling. They both smiled, and when Olivia started to sit back down he snuck one more quick peck on her lips. She giggled like a teenager.
"Will that at least get you through the appetizer?" she asked, picking up her menu again.
"We'll see," he said. "Should we get the hush puppies?"
They ate a feast of delicious barbeque food. They talked as they always did. Their feet were tangled under the table. Fitz held her hand across it. After sharing a peach cobbler, they decided to walk off some of the calories and see a movie in Union Square. They held hands as they walked. Occasionally Fitz would lean down and kiss her, and she would always stop walking and kiss him back.
"Do you go to the movies a lot?" she asked.
"Not really. Often I can get copies to watch at home. I like movies a lot. It's why I wanted to be in them. And I like the theater, it's just been easier lately to stay home."
"You are a recluse, after all," she said, jokingly referencing his reputation.
"I really like to stay home. I just enjoy the quiet."
She stopped. "We don't have to see a movie. It was only a suggestion."
"No, no. I want to. It's different when you have someone to go with."
They watched dark family comedy and shared an iced tea, still too full for snacks. As they made their way out of the theater, hand in hand, the man behind them tapped Fitz on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, Fitz?" the man said.
Fitz stopped. "Yes?"
"Oh man, I thought it was you. I told my wife, that's Fitz Grant, and she was all, no way he goes to the movies in Union Square, that guy hates crowds, but it's you!"
Fitz realized something then. Normally, it was this exact situation that would have him give a curt hello and goodbye and make a quick exit. But he quickly glanced down at his hand, which was holding Olivia's, and realized he had hit the nail on the head earlier. It felt different, and better, to not be alone.
"It's me. Pleasure to meet you, man. What'd you say your name was?"
They spoke for a minute, and the man was able to prove his wife wrong when she wandered into the almost empty theater looking for him. Fitz introduced Olivia as his friend, and then wasn't sure what to do when the man's wife asked her to take a picture of them with Fitz. She waved him off, happily taking a few shots.
"Thanks," he said, kissing her hand as they made their way to the subway.
"Of course. You doing okay?" she asked.
"Yes. More than okay."
They weren't able to find seats on the train. The Friday night crowds were out. Instead, they stood face to face. Fitz's long arms were raised over his head to hold onto the bar for stability, and Olivia held onto his belt loops. Every time the train swayed, lurched or stopped, they leaned into each other to stay upright. It felt like a choreographed dance. Once Olivia almost stumbled, and Fitz dropped an arm and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her close to him.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I like how you just fit. Pretty convenient."
She found herself without the ability to overthink anything, and turned her head to kiss his neck. It was the only response she had.
His grip on her waist tightened as she tickled his neck with her lips and eyelashes.
"Fuck," he whispered, much to her delight.
"Language, Fitz. Someone might recognize you."
She looked up at him, her brown eyes almost shining.
"That's just cruel," he said, putting some of her hair behind her ear. He had wanted to do that since she had done it at the dinner table.
"A serious movie star shouldn't be necking with a random woman on the train. That's all I'm saying."
"You're not random."
"To all of these people, I'm definitely random."
He rolled his eyes.
"Did you just roll your eyes?"
"I did. That's ridiculous. You're anything but random."
"To you, maybe."
"Does anyone else matter?" he asked, and then looked outside of the train window. "This is us."
He grabbed her hand and led her off of the train. They made it up to street level and Olivia realized she had missed her stop. They were three blocks from Fitz's apartment.
"You meant to get off at your stop, didn't you?" he said, noticing the look in her eyes.
"I was planning on it, yeah. But not because I don't want to come over. If you were going to ask me up. I have to pack for the Hamptons, I leave on Sunday."
"What?" he asked. This hadn't come up in any of their conversations. Not that he could remember.
"I spend this last week of summer there with my parents. I have for the past ten years or so, anyway. I'm sorry I didn't mention it, it's been at the back of my mind because I've been busy and then we met and …" she trailed off, looking at him.
"Right, of course. Sorry, I just had plans to see you every day for the near future. In my mind. I suppose I should have run those plans by you."
"Well, tomorrow is Saturday," she said, stepping toward him.
"Can't you pack tomorrow?" he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off of her feet, kissing her shamelessly in the middle of the sidewalk.
"I can. Or I can do it tonight and see you again tomorrow without any distractions." Her arms were around her neck. She was allowing herself to be suspended in the air, in public, and she didn't care.
He sighed. "Fine. But I'm walking you home like this."
He started moving down the sidewalk, and she laughed so hard he had to put her down. They both wiped the tears of laughter from their eyes, and then he grabbed her hand again and walked her to her apartment building.
"Thanks for another great date," she said, standing on her tip toes and kissing him softly.
"You're welcome. Thank you." It was taking everything in his power not to invite himself up to her place. He wanted to see it, yes. But he also wanted to see her.
"Call you tomorrow?" she said, looking for her keys.
"Yes please," he said, leaning against the side of the building and crossing his arms. "Text me when you get in safely?"
"I will. Night," she said, walking into her building.
The ride to the fourth floor didn't take very long, but for the entire trip she pictured Fitz standing outside her building. He had wanted to come up. She had wanted him to come up. The practical Olivia had won. She opened the door and grabbed her phone from her purse.
I'm in.
She waited for his response.
I'm still downstairs.
She stared at her phone. Her hands were shaking. She was smiling. She could only think of one thing to reply.
Yes.
It wasn't quite that simple, because she had to call her doorman. So a few minutes passed before there was a knock at the door. She took a deep breath and smoothed out her dress before she opened it.
Fitz was leaning against the door frame.
"You have to pack," he said, smiling.
"You were still downstairs."
"I was. Now I'm here."
They stared at each other for what was probably only a second, and then he was taking the half step toward her, putting his hands on her face and pulling her up and to his lips.
This kiss – this kiss was passionate. She heard herself moan and him respond in the same way. He walked her inside, still kissing, and kicked the door closed behind him. She walked backward to her couch, which in her small apartment wasn't that far away, and they sat down, never unlocking their lips. That only lasted until Fitz pulled away and then rather adeptly for a man who claimed not to have a lot of dating experience had her on her back, with her head on a throw pillow, him wedged between Olivia's body and the couch. He tickled her side while he nibbled on her neck. She squirmed. She threw one of her legs over his, and the momentum rolled him so he was practically on top of her. They kissed for a while longer, until it was finally necessary to come up for air. He put his head on her shoulder, and she ran her hands through his hair while they breathed in unison.
"Excuse my manners, you didn't even get a tour."
She felt him smile.
"Remember, no apologizing."
"Well, this is my apartment. The living room, dining room and kitchen are all right here."
He separated himself from her body, pulling both of them so they were sitting facing each other on the couch.
"It's really nice. It feels like you."
She had light brown suede couches with tan, grey and white pillows. She liked to decorate in neutrals. She had a television and a record player on the wall opposite the couch.
"Records?" he asked.
"It was my grandfathers. I don't listen that often, but I couldn't part with it."
"I'm glad. I want to test it out, see how it sounds."
"Anytime."
"How long have you lived here?"
"Six years. I started out in a true studio, bed in the corner, no seating area. But when I got my current job, it came with a raise, and I found a place with actual doors and walls."
"We had a studio, Oli and I, and one of those fake walls to separate our beds. It was atrocious. He would have women over, and they had no shame, so I would be sitting with my laptop and headphones, just waiting for them to finish. I finally started going to the coffee shop. Had to have a little self respect."
She laughed. "Oh man, that's awful. But good for him. He must have been special if the ladies were willing to forego privacy."
"I guess so. I hadn't thought of it like that."
He pulled her close to him, and they laid down, him pressed up against the back of the couch with her in front of him, her back pressed into his chest, her legs in line with his, his right arm around her waist, making sure she wouldn't fall.
"This is nice," she said. It wasn't eloquent, but it was the best she could do. She was too comfortable.
"Really nice," he said, shifting to get his arms in a more natural position.
"I'm going to fall asleep."
"Me too. I spent the afternoon in the sun with a beautiful woman. Totally spent."
She turned her head and kissed him.
"I have to pack," she said. They both laughed.
They fell asleep, waking up when one of Olivia's neighbors returned home singing at 2:00 in the morning.
"I'm going to get a cab, Liv," he whispered.
She stirred. "Liv?"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"I'm glad you were downstairs," she said as she stood up and stretched. "I'm totally going to pack right now. That was like a nap. I'm good to go."
"It all worked out."
He headed for the door, holding her hand.
"Can I see you before you go?"
"Yes."
"Okay, I'll call you."
"Sounds good. Tell me you got home okay, please."
He nodded. "Night."
They kissed, and though they both tried to make it quick, it turned into her arms around his neck, standing on his feet, and his hands in the side pockets of her dress.
"Okay, goodnight, Liv. For real this time."
"Third time's a charm," she said, and he smiled and headed for the elevator.
She did finish packing. And they did have dinner the following day, cooked by Fitz at his house, before she headed to the Hamptons. They texted or spoke every day while she was gone. They made plans to see each other Sunday night when she returned, before she went back to work and he began a busy week on set. It was all going so well, so simply, until Fitz's manager texted him a picture of Olivia and Fitz. You couldn't see their faces, it was them holding hands and walking out of a movie theater. Fitz looked at the screen shot, which was from a man's Instagram, with the caption, "You don't see movie stars at the movies every day. #fitzgrant." It wasn't the photo of Fitz with the couple, so he supposed they had honored his request. But it had been seen by the wrong person and was on a gossip website. Olivia was unrecognizable, and that was good. But Fitz hated to be on those sites, and hadn't been there for so long, that when she texted on Sunday to say she was on her way home, he didn't respond.