"Olivia!"
Leo's voice was sharp, the kind of tone he used whenever he was stressed out about something. Just as she looked up, he rounded the corner and walked up to her desk. This had to be important, if Leo had bothered coming all the way down to the Bullpen instead of asking Abby to come and get her.
"Please tell me you found something good on Hessler."
She handed him the stack of papers she'd just been combing through. "I was about to come and bring them to you. Dwayne failed to mention the three other identical charges that he settled for over a million dollars each. He buried them well."
Dwayne Hessler was a shoddy businessman and an even worse person. He was being accused of assault by one of his current assistants, who'd promptly been fired and told she'd never find another job in the city again.
"We need them to come forward," Leo said, flicking through the pages with a frown.
"I'm on it. Two of them ignored my calls, but one of them works as a receptionist downtown, so I was going to head there–"
"Go," Leo replied swiftly. "Now. Good work. Even if she doesn't want to stand at trial, we can use it to scare Hessler into making a settlement deal. As long as he doesn't know we know about these three other women, we have the upper hand."
"You don't want to go?"
"I would, but I have that rescheduled meeting with Donovan Lark. I can't bail on him again." Leo began to walk away, but then turned and looked back at her again. "I trust you to get this done, Liv."
She nodded and reached for her coat.
–-
Monique Smith had worked behind the same reception desk for the past six and a half years. It had gotten repetitive, sure, but it was a well-paid job in a respected company. And moreover, it was far enough away from her last place of work.
"How can I help?" She asked, not bothering to look up as she continued typing at the keyboard.
"Olivia Pope. I'm with Reston North."
Monique finally glanced up. "Okay?"
"I'm going to make this quick, Monique, since you're probably very busy." Olivia lowered her voice, but made sure to keep it firm. "We know what happened between you and Dwayne Hessler, and–"
"You need to leave," Monique interrupted.
"I'm not leaving until you hear me out. We're not trying to protect Hessler. He's a dirty misogynist who is used to throwing money at his problems until they disappear. He's done the same thing to four different women now." Liv let out a slow breath. "The same thing he did to you."
Monique's gaze hardened. "If you think I'm ever going to be in the same room as that man again, you're sorely mistaken."
"We don't need that much from you. A statement."
"He threatened to ruin my life six years ago, I'm not letting him ruin it again."
"Monique," she pleaded. "A woman came to me for my help because Hessler put his hands on her and then fired her. The only way we can catch him is to prove that he's done this exact same thing before. But we need proof. You know how good of a liar he is."
Monique remained silent for a few long moments, holding Olivia's stare.
And then, finally, she sighed. "A statement from me is going to help this woman?"
"Yes."
"Is it going to put that–" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "-sleazy fucker behind bars?"
Liv tilted her chin. "I'll do everything in my power possible to make that happen. You have my word."
Another long pause. "Okay."
—-
It was much later by the time Liv had started sorting the files for the Hessler case and solidifying Monique's statement. Reston wanted the case on lockdown before the hearing on Wednesday, and the workload was quickly piling up.
She glanced at the clock and frowned. It was half-past five already.
Shit.
She grabbed her phone, which had been on Do Not Disturb for the past three hours at the bottom of her bag, and found two missed call alerts at the top of her screen.
"Fuck," she hissed, frantically hitting the dial button. "Please pick up, please pick up…"
After a few seconds, he did.
"Hi," he drawled.
"Mr Grant, I'm so sorry," she whispered into the speaker. "I've been caught up at work, I had no idea it was already so late–"
"Shh," he interrupted, his voice unexpectedly soft. She relaxed a little bit. "Don't worry about it. I moved our reservation to eight p.m."
She blinked. "Really? How did you know–?"
"That you were in the middle of something important?" He asked, chuckling. "Because you're Olivia Pope, and I hoped you wouldn't stand me up for nothing."
She flushed. "I promise I didn't mean to stand you up. I feel awful."
"Don't feel awful," he murmured. "You can make it up to me in two hours' time. What's your address?"
She couldn't help but smile. "Why?"
"How else do you expect me to pick you up?"
She laughed. "You don't need to pick me up, honestly. I can drive."
"You can't drink with me if you're behind the wheel."
"Drink with you? I don't think that would be good for my professional image," she said, half-teasingly.
"Well, that's too bad." His voice had suddenly dropped to a much lower, silkier tone, one that had her feeling hot all over. "You should've thought about that before forcing me to move our afternoon meeting to a late-night dinner date."
She had no idea how to reply to that. Is that what he thought this was? A date?
There was no way her Monday night plans involved a date with Fitzgerald Grant the Third. This was Fitzgerald Grant, CEO of Grant Enterprises, a.k.a. her client.
She must have been silent for too long, because suddenly he said, "I'm joking, Ms Pope. Don't worry."
She didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
Instead, she forced herself to sound bright as she replied, "I'll see you in two hours, Mr Grant."
She hung up and her forehead fell to the desk with a loud groan.
Abby just so happened to be walking past on her way out of the building, and stopped. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing," she lied.
Abby stood with her arms folded, waiting for Liv to spill.
She sighed heavily. "I think I have a date with Fitzgerald Grant tonight."
"A date?" Abby whispered excitedly. "Liv, that's great! I've been saying you need to put yourself out there more, since your breakup with Edison."
Liv internally cringed. She'd been in a relationship with Edison Davis, a high-profile divorce attorney, for two and a half years before he'd dumped her in favour of his secretary.
"Okay, do you not see the problem here? He's a client, and the most sought-after bachelor in the city."
"So you're a lucky woman," Abby shrugged.
"If the press even gets a sniff of him being on a date, we'll be hounded, and if Liz North finds out about it, I'm screwed."
Abby rolled her eyes. "It's a business dinner."
"She'll know that's bullshit. Leo should be there for a business dinner."
"Technically, he passed Grant Enterprises onto you, so you don't technically need his supervision." Abby shrugged. "And anyway, Leo's caught up with the Hessler case. He couldn't be there even if he wanted to be."
"Yeah…" Liv glanced down at the files piling up on her desk and exhaled.
"Get up and go," Abby said, reaching for her arm to pull her to her feet. "I don't know what you're still doing here when you have a date with the sexiest man in New York City in two hours."
Liv laughed and shook her head. "You're making me even more nervous about it."
"Send me pictures of your outfit," Abby grinned. "I want you to wear something that will make him lose his mind."
"Abby!" She hissed. "I don't want him to lose his mind – I want it to be a professional thing-"
"Bullshit. You want that man to rip your clothes off." She paused, waiting for Liv to deny it, and smiled knowingly when she didn't. "Let me some and help you get ready, you don't have long."
"This feels like we're sixteen, getting ready for prom."
They finally left Reston North and made their way to Liv's apartment.
—-
When the car pulled up outside Fitz's restaurant of choice, Liv felt like she was going to pass out from nerves.
Abby had warned her that Fitz's taste in dinner places would probably be very sophisticated, so her dress toed the line between classy and sultry. Professional, but on the riskier side. Designed to make a man's jaw drop.
And as she was directed to his table, one tucked away in a darker corner of the restaurant, she was glad to see the dress had the desired effect. She took a second to look at him from afar, preparing herself mentally. He was wearing a black shirt and black dress pants, the shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was more casual than his usual business suit, but undeniably sexier.
Fitz stood up to greet her, his eyes visibly darkening as he took her in. His gaze raked over her from head to toe, completely shameless. She flushed under the intensity of his stare, and he smirked when he noticed how pink her cheeks had turned.
"Ms Pope," he murmured, pulling the chair out for her. "You look…" He swallowed, hard. "Beautiful."
She sat down, trying not to concentrate on how the black shirt hugged every ridge of muscle on his chest and shoulders. "You look good too," she said. "Black suits you."
She prayed that was an appropriate response. She'd never had a client call her beautiful before.
"I wasn't certain you'd get in the car and show up," Fitz said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
She tilted her head. "How come?"
He shrugged. "You're a busy woman."
"Yes," she conceded, "but I make time for my clients."
He smirked. "All your clients, or just your favourite ones?"
She felt herself blush, but refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. "Most of them. I make an effort most of the time."
He nodded and began to pour her a glass of red wine. It was a very expensive bottle; she knew it from the label. She had drunk it once before, with her father (who also had an expensive taste in wine).
"Thank you," she said, raising the glass to take a long sip.
He watched her carefully. "Long day at work?"
"I…" She wasn't supposed to divulge that to a client, but this wasn't a normal day in the office. "Yes, you could say that… I'm dealing with Dwayne Hessler right now, and–"
"Dwayne Hessler?" Fitz cut in, his voice suddenly sharp.
"Yeah."
"You're working against him?"
Liv shifted in her seat. Fitz's shoulders were tense, his eyes narrowed. It was as though she'd just dropped a huge bombshell, but she had no idea why.
"Yes. Leo and I have a deposition at his office in two days."
Fitz's voice still had a note of urgency. "Leo will be there?"
"Yes."
Fitz visibly relaxed. "Okay. Good."
"Why?"
"I don't want you alone in a room with that man." Fitz took a long drink, then set the glass back down on the table. "He's a pig."
"I know he is," she replied, quietly. "But Leo will be there. We'll be fine."
Fitz nodded, and she tried to ignore the feeling that washed over her at the way he'd been so protective. He'd been worried about her safety.
Just as she was about to say something else, the waitress appeared to take their order, and the moment was lost.
—-
Throughout the meal, Fitz was asking her questions and listening intently to her answers, then countering with something else. Every now and then, his eyes would flicker to her lips, or he'd catch her staring at his forearms. It was like a secret game; if he caught her checking him out, he would smirk and pause his talking, then move on like nothing had happened.
It was the most relaxed and involved she'd ever felt on a date (even though she still refused to accept that this was a date), and before they knew it, they were being asked to finish up so the restaurant could close.
Fitz covered the bill – despite her arguing – and left a generous tip.
"I'll call Sam," he said, dialling a number on his phone.
Sam was the chauffeur who had picked her up to drive her here. He'd been lovely, albeit a bit quiet. But according to Fitz, he was one of the politest and loyal workers you could ever come across, and had worked as a driver for Fitz ever since the business had taken off.
It would take around five minutes for Sam to reach them, so they huddled on the sidewalk and continued their conversation.
"Why law?" Fitz asked.
"I wanted to make a difference," she shrugged. "I know that's a cliche answer, but it's true. I saw how my grandmother changed people's lives, and I wanted to follow in her footsteps."
Fitz smiled gently. "Grandparents can be the best role models."
"They really can."
If there was one thing they'd avoided talking about, it was family. Liv struggled to talk about family in the first place, even with her closest friends. Her mother had passed away when she was fourteen, and her father wasn't the most emotionally supportive. Her mother's death had been swept under the rug, and both of them acted like nothing had happened – as though she had never existed.
Fitz had a similar situation. He'd taken over as CEO after his father had suffered a heart attack. He'd been twenty-four; fresh-faced, hardly ever taken seriously, until he'd put his foot down and made Grant Enterprises even more successful than it had been under the control of Gerry Grant Sr. Now, nobody dared to undermine him. He'd earned that position, which is why it felt even more satisfying to be so well-respected in the city now. He'd spent all of his young adult life finding his footing in the new job role. He lived and breathed Grant Enterprises.
Therefore, he'd had no time for a love life.
Except right now, he didn't want to live and breathe Grant Enterprises. He wanted to live and breathe Olivia Pope.
Fuck.