Into Folklore | W. Halstead

Rich People Suck

warning: 18+ smut ahead ...

Olivia did not get nervous. Frequently. Not when she was waiting to find out if she passed through the academy. Not her first day being brought upstairs. Not when new recruits would come through. But now?

Now she had re-curled the same three strands about four times, trying to get them to lay perfectly before she could even think about finishing up her makeup. And don't even get her started on the make up, trying for ten minutes to pick out the color she even wanted. (She picked a nice green that she thought was nice with the ring she had planned to wear that night.)

And the dress was really the only formal one she had, black, floor length, spaghetti straps and a slit up the leg that stopped mid thigh. Honestly she wasn't sure if it was proper to wear tonight but the past week had been so chaotic at work she didn't really have a chance to go shopping.

Even though she was cut from the field, she managed to convince Voight to let her be in the bullpen and at least still be a part of things. It honestly was thanks to her that they got the guy, his truck passing a POD near Kim and Kev that got him cornered and arrested.

Not that that was the only case they had, of course another one falling into their laps by that night that they worked and honestly closed faster than they usually did. So usually Olivia had something to preoccupy her, not tonight.

Tonight she nearly backed out, opening her text messages at least three times before she just tossed her phone onto the bed. She was also not a quitter, or someone that backed out of things last second. Even though she was nitpicking every small detail of her hair, makeup and outfit up until three short knocks hit her front door.

Olivia let out a breath, looking over herself once more in the floor length mirror in her bedroom before double checking that she did in fact unplug her curling iron and grabbing her phone from its spot near her pillow from earlier.

A previously picked out black purse was hanging from the door knob to her room, being grabbed as she passed it, heels clicking as she made her way to the front door to open it. Connor smiled instantly, "Hey-" His greeting catching in his throat.

The girl's cheeks darkened as he sucked in a breath, his eyes traveling all over her body. "God please say something you're making me nervous," Olivia breathed out clutching the purse in her hands.

Connor stepped through the threshold, his hands going to her hips, "You look amazing," He spoke softly, giving her the chance to let out a breath of relief. And he wasn't exaggerating, he almost called his father and canceled his appearance right then and there. Honestly he would have if he wasn't basically forced by contract to attend.

Not actually but Cornelius Rhodes would have you thinking it with how much he cared about his son's attendance. "It's not too much right? Like I mean the slit is a little high but-"

"Olivia, it's perfect. Truly," Connor looked back up at her, their blue eyes meeting. "Are you ready to go?" He took her hand as she nodded, leading her back out of the apartment, stepping back slightly to wait for her to lock up.

His hand stayed in hers the whole car ride to his dad's house. Honestly he didn't know if he was holding it to syke himself up for when they got there or to comfort the obvious nerves she was having. Either way she didn't mind. Her hand was just as tightly in his as his was in hers.

"Fair warning, these parties are, a lot. Lots of people, let me rephrase. Lots of rich and snobby people." Connor passed a glance at her as they paused at a red light. "Like, disgustingly snobby." His nose scrunched up as he thought back to the amount of asshole CEO's and lawyers and shit he'd met at his dad's events.