May 2019

Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III sat behind the antique cedar desk in his well appointed office on the fifteenth floor of the building that housed his family's high end real estate development company, Grant North America, in New York City. He had returned to the United States almost three months ago after working abroad for the past five years as an architectural design engineer on several GNA projects across Asia. He was happy to be home but was unsure of he wanted to do next. Taking on a new project was the next logical step, but lately he felt he was being pulled in a different direction.

When the Grant AsiaPac project was in the early stages of planning and negotiations, Fitz had declined to join the team. He was managing a large project for high tech luxury condos in downtown Los Angeles. It was routine, and any of the other architectural engineers on staff could have easily stepped in to take over until completion, but Fitz had another reason for staying.

Sitting back in his chair, Fitz closed his eyes and smiled as he remembered the reason. He could still see the big brown doe eyes that he could stare into forever, the pouty lips that he loved to kiss, the same pouty lips that had done wicked things to his body. Those were perhaps the happiest three months of his life.

He had taken a gamble, believing and hoping that their fling (her word) in Los Angeles meant more than just sex to her, just as it meant more to him. When she walked away, after her client's merger was complete, he was thrown into an emotional tailspin. Well, she didn't actually walk away. When she came to LA, and they started spending time together, she made it clear that although she was not interested or really ready for another relationship, she would spend time with him. And once her business concluded, they would part ways, no strings attached. If only it had been that easy.

Fitz had been left reeling, placing his social life on hold while waiting for her to call him and admit her true feelings. Then, he could tell her how much he loved her and wanted to share his life with her. He had given her time but two months after she left, and the condo project was complete, Fitz moved out of the house in the hills. He was still constantly checking his phone for her call and scrolling through his contacts for her name, but a sense of pride—stubborn pride—wouldn't let him tap her number. It was during those two months of no calls that Fitz changed his mind and decided to join the Grant AsiaPac team. He needed to get away, to clear his mind, and a four year project across Asia was the best way to do it.

A few weeks later Fitz sat in the airport's private waiting suite getting ready to board his flight to Singapore. When the suite attendant informed him that his flight was ready to board, Fitz looked down at his phone one last time before turning it off. After pocketing the device, he grabbed his leather weekender and walked to the waiting Gulfstream G650, deciding that he would continue to wait for her call, whenever it came, if it came.

After two years of working nonstop in Singapore and Malaysia, Fitz took a well earned three month break on the Indonesian island of Bali where he rented a small one bedroom villa on the beach in the town of Seminyak. With its poor and slow internet infrastructure, spotty cell service and frequent power outages during the rainy season, he was able to live off the grid. Only his family knew where he was and they knew not to contact him unless there was an emergency. He spent his days surfing, diving, kayaking, and motorbiking around the island sampling Balinese food from the small warungs, located off the beaten path. Fitz kept busy, the water and waves beckoning to him daily. He surfed and kayaked almost every day and all day, usually to the point of exhaustion. He wanted to be tired so he could sleep, so the dreams about a certain beautiful doe eyed lawyer with sexiest pouty lips, would not come. But after two and a half years of doing everything he could to forget her, he still reached out in the middle of the night only to find the place beside him empty. He could not get her out of his head or his heart.

Fitz left Bali physically rested and mentally exhausted but he was ready to tackle the Grant AsiaPac development projects in Thailand, Taiwan, Hong Kong and finally China. His work became his life. He loved the career he had chosen, and watching the Fitzgerald Grant designed buildings go up one at a time gave him a sense of accomplishment. He was living a life that many people envied, doing exactly what he had always wanted to do. He was handsome, wealthy, successful and well connected but none of that mattered because it couldn't get him what he truly wanted, truly desired, the love of his life, Olivia Pope.

Fitz sat up as his phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw the call was from his realtor and answered immediately.

"Hello Michelle, how are you today? Have you found some more properties for me to see?" He said all of this in one breath and they both laughed.

"Hi Fitz, I'm sending you information on three properties that have recently been put on the market and that I think you will like. I'm heading into a meeting but I'll wait to hear if you want to see either of them in person. I know we've been at this for a while but we're going to find the right place for you. You can send me a text or an email with your thoughts. Talk to you later." And she was gone. Fitz laughed as he placed the device back on his desk.

Michelle Long was the ex-wife of a college friend of Fitz's who had been screwed over in the divorce and had to find a job. She had taken and passed the real estate exam and was a top seller of high end properties to rich clients with no budgets. She and Fitz had actually remained friends after the divorce, but he never spoke to her ex-husband again. He had contacted Michelle before returning home about finding a new apartment and since she had been instrumental in selling his previous property and storing all of his personal belongings while he was in Thailand, he trusted her to find him a new apartment. She had been showing him properties for the past two months.

Fitz hadn't seen anything that really spoke to him, and if he was being honest, he knew why he was dragging his feet making a decision. He was still holding out hope that she would contact him, after almost four years. He was willing to wait, wait another four months or four years.

The television mounted to his office wall usually displayed key business metrics in real-time but was now tuned to CNN with the volume turned down low. Glancing at the screen it was the chyron running along the bottom that made Fitz sit up straight, and the faces on the screen almost caused him to hyperventilate. He stood in a trance. Time stopped. Halted. He blindly reached for the remote on the desk behind him to raise the volume.

"If you're just joining us, the Vice President is about to swear in the newest United States Surgeon General, Dr. Maya Elliott Lewis-Pope. Joining Dr. Pope are her husband the Honorable Judge Elijah Turner Pope, her daughters Dr. Cicely Pope-Lankford and Attorney Olivia Pope, son-in-law Dr. August Lankford and her granddaughter Elliott, who appears to be sleeping through all of the fanfare, in her mother's arms. Dr. Pope was confirmed…"

Fitz did not hear anything after "granddaughter." Still in shock, he took a seat on the corner of his desk and continued to stare at the television in disbelief. Raising the remote he rewound the broadcast and pressed 'Pause' to freeze the video. He found himself whispering, "it couldn't be. She would've told me. She wouldn't have my child and not tell me." Pressing 'Play,' Fitz continued to watch the broadcast, willing the little girl with the head full of brown and blonde streaked curly hair to wake-up and turn her head towards the camera. He wanted to see her face. Seeing Olivia in the flesh for the first time in four years was also jarring. The woman who still haunted his dreams was now on his television screen cuddling her sleeping daughter in her arms.

When the swearing in ended, each family member shook the Vice President's hand and hugged Dr. Pope. The little girl remained asleep and just as Olivia turned to walk off stage to take a seat in the audience so she could listen to the new Surgeon General's speech, the cameras cut to the news anchors in the studio.

"Damn" Fitz muttered to himself. Rewinding the live broadcast again, Fitz pressed 'Pause' and stared at the screen for a few more minutes before standing to his feet and walking behind his desk to take a seat. Pressing the intercom on the desk phone, he called his executive assistant.

"Yes Mr. Grant?"

"Lauren, could you get me Diego Nunes please?" She answered in the affirmative and ten minutes later his old friend Diego "Huck" Nunes was on the line.

"Fitz, you son of a bitch, how long have you been back?" Fitz laughed at his friends greeting before responding. "I've been back about three months now. Spent most of that time reacclimating myself with the city and keeping a low profile. How's business going?"

"Business is good and with the current administration still in office, it doesn't appear to be slowing down anytime soon."

"Well that's always a good thing. Listen, I don't want to hold you up any longer but I need you to personally look into something, well actually someone, for me. It's urgent and I need the information asap."

"Is there something wrong Fitz?" Diego asked.

"No nothing like that. She's an old friend and I just want to know what she's been up to since the last time I saw her."

"And how long ago was that?" Diego wanted to know.

"Four years. I just need to know a little personal information, husband, kids, job, you know. I could easily search the internet but I know you'll do a more thorough job. Again Huck, I need this information as soon as you can get it to me."

"Okay Fitz, but I still need this mystery woman's name."

"Her name is Olivia Pope."

"Got it, give me a couple of weeks."

"Thanks Huck." They both ended the call.

Two Weeks Later

"Yes Lauren?" Fitz asked when he heard her voice over the intercom.

"Mr. Nunes is here to see you," Lauren responded, "and Fitz I want to remind you that you have a lunch meeting with your father at 12:30."

Rising to his feet, Fitz closed the website he had been reading. "Send Mr. Nunes in. Then call my father and let him know that I'll be late. Tell him to have a drink on me but wait to order lunch."

A smile lit up Fitz's face the moment Huck stepped into his office. Huck's grim expression went unnoticed as Fitz spied the large envelope under his friends arm. He extended his hand, "It's good to see you again Huck. How did it go?"

Huck shifted the envelope to shake Fitz's hand. "Well enough but I could use a drink right now.

Fitz nodded and although he wanted to play catch up with his old friend, the last thing he wanted was to turn this meeting into a social drinking session. He'd been waiting for the information he was certain Huck had gathered for him.

"Brandy or scotch?" Fitz asked moving to the large credenza stocked with the finest imported wines and liqueurs. He glanced over his shoulder at the quiet man now seated in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.

"Scotch, straight up," Huck replied, "you know I love whiskey."

Fitz poured a double shot of premium aged scotch into a glass for Huck, then a splash for himself. Huck took the glass, raising it in a mock salute before draining its contents quickly. His gaze then shifted to Fitz's face, his stoic expression unchanged.

"Have your drink first, then take a look at this."

Fitz tossed down the scotch, grimacing as a burning sensation exploded in his chest. He ran a finger under the flap of the envelope, spilling its contents onto the desk. All of the color drained from his face, as if he had seen a ghost. He closed his eyes but the images on the photographs continued to attack and mock him. He could see Olivia Pope's beautiful, haunting face and that of a little girl. It had only taken a glance to know who the child was.

"I take it you didn't know about the little girl?"

Although Fitz had his suspicions from viewing the CNN video more times than he could count, he wasn't prepared for the proof. Sitting back in his chair behind his desk, hands gripping the arms for support, Fitz felt weak. How could he feel hot and cold at the same time?

"Fitz? Are you okay?" Huck asked when he didn't respond.

"Huck," Fitz whispered. His hands were shaking and there wasn't anything he could do to stop them as he picked up the photos. After almost six years, she still had that affect on him. There were pictures of Olivia and his daughter at the park, Olivia picking her up from school, leaving a music school, (probably taking piano lessons since Olivia played the piano, he thought) and of the little girl in a taekwondo gi walking into the dojo for a class. Fitz smiled at his tiny twin as she walked confidently, fiddling with the orange belt tied around her waist. He was no expert, but he knew that color meant she was no beginner. There were pictures of the little girl with each of the adults from the ceremony two weeks ago. She appeared happy in all of them.

"I spent two weeks in D.C. getting the information you requested." Huck's voice broke Fitz from the trance the sight of Olivia and his daughter put him in. His daughter. He still couldn't believe it, even though the face peering back at him was an exact replica of his own. Huck barely heard Fitz when he spoke barely above a whisper, "so she's still there."

"Is all of the other information in here?" Fitz asked as he removed a neatly typed report from the envelope.

"Yes, and I'll have Quinn send you a copy electronically for your records. Finding the information wasn't hard. She wasn't hiding. It appears she's living a very happy life with her daughter and has very successful law career. She drops the child off at some fancy private preschool every morning and picks her up from after school care every evening. There were two days that I observed an older gentleman picking up the child from school. I later learned that he was Judge Elijah Pope, Olivia's father and the child's grandfather. Did you know that her mother was recently sworn in as the new Surgeon General? It was on the same day you called and requested this information." Fitz didn't acknowledge Huck's statement and if the private investigator had figured out who had fathered Elliott Pope, he kept it to himself.

Before he started reading the report, Fitz leaned over and pushed the intercom button on his phone. "Lauren, please hold all of my calls, and cancel my appointment with my father. I'm unavailable for the remainder of the afternoon."

"What about the Arrington Group meeting?" she asked.

"Cancel it." His tone had taken on a sharp edge, a tone which Lauren rarely heard. She did not argue with him.

Fitz could not pull his gaze away from the photographs. Memories came rushing back. His head came up slowly, and he found Huck watching him and waiting for him to speak. Fitz didn't know how to begin to tell him about the woman who still held all of his heart in her hands, so he decided to start at the beginning.

"I met Olivia Pope for the first time almost six years ago at her cousin Harrison's wedding on Martha's Vineyard."