Downfall

From A Table Away

Downfall

Chapter Two: From A Table Away

"Is this Olivia?" Fitz stood with his heart pounding in his chest and looked at the bright, green numbers displayed on the microwave above the stove. 12:15. He let off a string of silent curses at the time. She probably thought he was inconsiderate and a slew of other adjectives for calling so late.

"Fitzgerald Grant." Her breathy voice made him smile and he let go the breath he had been holding in as he leaned back against the counter.

"Is this a good time?" He asked, crossing his legs.

"No. I would say that midnight is as good a time as ever." Her chuckle eased the tension from his shoulders and caused a laugh to escape him as well.

"I couldn't sleep," He admitted.

"So you call a stranger?"

"Not a complete stranger."

"Fair enough."

"Can I take you upon that coffee?" He took the plunge, suddenly feeling the need to see her again. It was impulsive and crazy, but he had felt some sense of calm the hour or so he had spent with her earlier.

"Now?" She didn't bother to hide her disapproving tone and it didn't shock him. Calling her at midnight with that request was probably starting to sound like a random booty call.

"Not now. Later today. Noon?"

"That sounds better than now." She laughed, a hearty, genuine laugh.

"Are there even any coffee places open at this time?" He asked, moving to the island and sitting in a stool.

"Probably, but not the kind that politicians or normal citizens go to."

"You looked me up."

"It wasn't hard, Representative Grant," Olivia drawled, a smirk betraying itself in the tone of her voice.

"I was kind of hoping that wouldn't make its way into whatever this is." He rested his elbow on the counter, cradling his head in the palm of his hand and massaging his forehead.

"And what is this?" She probed.

"A frustrated guy looking for a friend?"

"That sounds more like a question than a statement."

"You are a bit of a hard ass, aren't you?" The statement came out without a second thought from its speaker. Something about the woman on the other end of the phone made him feel comfortable, as if they had been friends all their lives.

"Law school does that to people."

"So you're a lawyer?"

"No. I'm in law school."

"You never mentioned that before."

"You never mentioned your job title either." He grinned, a large, goofy grin. Banter with her was easy and natural.

"I guess there will be plenty to talk about tomorrow..."

"Later today." She cut him off and he shook his head, amused at her playfulness. He pushed himself away from the counter and walked toward the bay window, staring out at the dark night sky.

"Later today," He conceded, a yawn escaping involuntarily.

"Isn't it your bedtime?" She teased, yawning herself.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I'm not the one yawning."

"Really? Do you want to be the pot or the kettle?"