AN: There can never be enough reverse!AUs out there. So, here's mine :D
"Don't you think it was a little bit too early to make him senior partner?"
The voice cut through the serene atmosphere of the office like a hot knife cutting through butter. The woman who was standing in front of the wide glass windows, that gave away to a beautiful view over the subjacent streets and the hundreds of skyscrapers that lined up along them like rows of dominos, and tilted her head; knowing that the man who had asked the question would elaborate further without her having to voice her own thoughts.
Never say more than you needed. Always let others fill in the blanks. It gives you power. It gives you control. It makes you untouchable.
"I know what you're thinking…" the man continued. The woman raised one eyebrow questioningly, because she seriously doubted that statement, but she let the other continue. "That it was me who pushed for it, so shouldn't I be happier, but I didn't actually think that it would happen so soon."
The woman didn't say anything. She looked down on the small plant on the windowsill – she didn't know what kind, she had never cared enough about gardening – and let her fingers run over its leaves, feeling the soft texture underneath her finger tips. Through the reflection in the window she could see the man nervously fidgeting with his fingers when she didn't immediately reply.
"You were the one who recruited him straight out of Harvard," the woman finally spoke. "You made him your personal project when you pushed him to become senior associate in record time, you put all your clout behind him to make him junior partner even faster, and ever since then you did everything in your power to get him on the big boy's table." She finally turned around. "And now you have doubts about him? Pretty late, don't you think?"
"I don't doubt him," the man defended himself. "It's just…he's still so young and so…emotional. I expected him to be junior partner for, at least, a few more years so I could sharpen his edges. Besides, there were others you could have made senior partner."
"You're right," the woman agreed with him. "But your protégé was the most politically convenient. Any other candidate would have shifted the board away from the perfectly tared balance we have now. Neither I nor the others wanted that. Making your guy senior partner saved us all a lot of hackling and backdoor deals."
"So, you only chose him because of internal politics?" He sneered.
"Come on, your boy is smart enough to realise that," the woman replied. She walked around her desk and leaned against it, arms crossed. "In fact, he brought up this very point when he was in here today."
"What did you want with him?" He asked, puzzled.
"Every senior partner needs their associate," she told him in a tone that made it clear that she had expected him to know that without even asking. "I just told him that he needs to hire his own."
"Why didn't you just let him take one out of our existing associate pool?" the man wanted to know.
"Because everyone knows that they're all envious of him," the woman replied. "And envy breeds a toxic work environment." She shook her head. "No, he needs someone new, someone from the outside, maybe even a little bit unconventional. After all, he's pretty unconventional himself, isn't he, Louis?"
"Yes," Louis spoke. "Mike sure as hell is."
Some people might be upset about the fact that they were only promoted because of politics, but as Mike looked into his new office, the corner office he had coveted since he had first set foot on this floor many years ago but had never dared to hope he would one day occupy, he noticed how little he cared about that.
He may owe his new position to all the other partners not wanting to upset the balance between the different groups on the board, but Mike also knew that he would have made senior partner one day. At least this way he had the position now instead of having to wait for a few additional years. Besides, the rise in pay was another nice touch.
"Thinking about all the furniture you're going to buy?" a voice behind him piqued up.
"Nah," Mike replied. "I think I'm gonna keep the corporate issued stuff. I don't think my tastes tacky enough to satisfy Louis or Jessica." He turned around to face the redhead leaning against the empty secretary cubicle. "Besides, there are better things to spend my money on. What are you doing here, anyway, Donna?"
"Oh, haven't you heard?" she replied in mock surprise. "Every senior partner gets their own secretary and I'm yours. But call me 'secretary' one time and I'll end you."
"I didn't think word would get around so fast." Donna snorted at that statement.
"Please, Jessica came to me before she even talked to you and asked me to keep an eye on you." Mike didn't even doubt that statement. It sounded like something Jessica would do. Donna, meanwhile, walked around the cubicle until she stood in front of the desk that stood behind its walls.
"That's so much nicer than my old one," she whistled. "I mean, I love Gretchen, but shared offices are such a bother." While Donna let her fingers run over the desk's surface the old, all too familiar guilt welled up within Mike.
Donna had been his key witness in his case against Cameron Dennis. Back then he had promised her that he would get her another job once her association with the District Attorney would inevitable burn her. He had managed to persuade Louis to hire her, but back then the only vacancies at Pearson Hardman had been temporary. So Donna had jumped from job to job, until she had finally gotten something more permanent in the secretary pool that worked for all the partners. It had been a difficult time for her. It had been difficult for both of them.
Mike knew that Donna didn't fault him for it. She never had. But knowing and feeling were two different pairs of shoes, but by now he could live with the remnant of the guilt he had previously felt, even though he would never be able to get rid of it completely.
The past was in the past. Donna had turned into one of the few friends he had at Pearson Hardman – besides Louis, of course, but Louis was his mentor and so he was supposed to be on Mike's side anyway – and it had become clear pretty quickly that she would go wherever Mike went.
"I've already set up interviews for your own associate," Donna informed him. "Jessica wanted them to be held in a room at the Chilton, but I convinced her that that isn't really your style. Instead we'll have them here."
"So instead of a stuffy hotel room I get a stuffy conference room on the 52nd floor?" he asked.
"You got it, Pinocchio," Donna replied.
"Because I'm a real boy now?" Mike guessed. Donna just smiled as Mike leaned on the cubicle and sighed. "How am I supposed to command respect from people who are only a few years younger than me, but are now supposed to work for me?" he voiced his doubts. Somehow, speaking them out aloud made them feel more tangible, as if a heavy pressure was suddenly settling on his shoulders.
"Then just remind them on which side of the table they're sitting," Donna replied. "That's gonna shut them up really quick." A faint smile made it on Mike's face.
"Thanks, Donna."
There was a moment of amicable silence between them, were neither of them said anything, and it was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of the man that had made all of it possible.
"The man of the hour!" he shouted across the whole floor as he made his way over to them. "Just the guy I wanted to see."
When he reached Mike, he engulfed the blonde in a fierce hug that made Mike feel like all of the air in his lungs had suddenly forced out of him.
"Louis," he wheezed. The pudgy man let go of him and turned to Donna, but one sharp gaze of hers made him back off from whatever plan of hugging her he had.
"Look at you, all grown up, ready to leave the nest," he spoke and it looked like he was about to cry.
"I'm the same guy you shouted at for not getting you the right Starbucks order just yesterday," Mike reminded his mentor.
"You were junior partner back then," Louis waved him off. "Now that you're a senior partner you command a new kind of gravitas that hasn't been there before." Behind him, Donna rolled her eyes. Louis was a nice guy, but he certainly had his quirks. "You even get your own secretary…executive assistant." He corrected himself when Donna coughed slightly behind him.
"I remember when I became senior partner," Louis continued. "I got to choose my own associate and with my keen eye for talent I chose you." There's another eye roll from Donna. "Now it's your turn with upholding that streak."
"I shall endeavour to find another prodigy for us to mould," Mike promised him.
"I sure hope you will," Louis replied.
"Let's just hope that Mike 2.0 will find their way to our interviews," Donna chimed in.
"If it's a bust then I'll just take Harold," Mike joked.
"The hell you will!"
"The hell you will!"
"Why not?" the brunette woman whined as Harvey poured her another drink and put the glass in front of her.
"Because, Rachel…" Harvey started as he cleaned the table top with his rag, disposing of the crumbs of chips and the leftover puddles of beer. "I don't want to."
Rachel just glared at him, clearly unimpressed with his answer. "That's not a real reason."
"It is to me." Harvey knew that he was being petty, but he couldn't help it. He just didn't want to talk about it – or to even think about it – but he knew that Rachel wouldn't let go of it, not now when his reluctance to talk about it had already betrayed how much he cared about the topic.
"I can't go to the interview anyway," Rachel said. "So, instead of cancelling my slot, I'll just give it to you." She grabbed Harvey's hand, stopping it mid-motion. "You deserve it."
"You're the only one who thinks that," Harvey groused.
"It's because all the firms in this town have their heads so far up their asses that they wouldn't even recognise true talent when it stares them straight in the face," She proclaimed. "Anyone would be lucky to have you."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Harvey replied. He meant it, though. Having Rachel in his corner was a nice feeling. She was a real friend; one you didn't stumble upon that often in a lifetime.
"I could still get you in my father's firm," She suggested.
"No," Harvey said with a shake of his head. "I want to make it on my own. Not because of nepotism, no matter how nicely meant it is."
"I know, I know," Rachel assured him. "But you know I have to put it out there, so that you know that you always have a choice." Harvey walked around the bar towards the entrance door, locked it up, and turned around the 'Closed' sign so that no new patron would stray into the small establishment.
"At what time is your interview?" he asked as he started to hoist the chairs onto the tables so that he could mop the floor afterwards.
"2pm," Rachel replied. "At Pearson Hardman."
Harvey's heart fell.
"You know they only take Harvard graduates," he said. "Not someone from Columbia and definitely not a drop-out."
"But being able to present your own case in person is more than you were ever able to do before!" Rachel pointed out. "Who knows? Maybe you'll manage to convince whoever is holding those interviews. And if not, you could still use your dazzling wit and your pretty face to make your case."
"You'd pimp me out?" Harvey asked, mock-scandalised at her statement.
"I'd be an awesome pimp," Rachel stated. "I'd treat you right and everything."
"I'd be your cash cow," Harvey proclaimed with a smug grin.
"Of course," she agreed. "Who could resist those broad shoulders or these chiselled jaws? Well, me, of course." She pointed both her thumbs at herself as a dreamy smile made its way onto her face. "Because I'm happily engaged to the man of my dreams."
"How is Logan?" Harvey asked. He wouldn't say that he disliked the man – he obviously had entrepreneurial skill to have made it this far – but he thought Rachel's fiancé was a little bit arrogant and immature for his age.
"Oh, he's fine," Rachel replied. "He still complains about his lawyer, but every time I point out that he could just fire the guy and hire someone he could actually get along with, he gets cagey."
"You don't fire someone who gets you results, no matter how much you dislike them," Harvey couldn't help to point out.
"Logan says the same thing! See, you two aren't so different after all." Harvey would beg to differ, but he kept quiet. "So, will you go to the interview tomorrow in my place?" Rachel asked.
Harvey really wanted to decline her request. He had been disappointed too often, had experienced all too well how the world he wanted to enter would never value him as he wanted to, had too many things going against him, but Rachel had done something truly insidious to him: She had kindled hope within him.
Just a small flame, a glowing ember in a sea of darkness, but even though the smallest of breezes could extinguish it again, it did exist and only grew stronger the more Harvey tried to suppress it. A thought was truly the most dangerous virus of them all.
"Alright, I'll do it." Harvey finally relented and Rachel squealed in excitement. "But this will be the last time. If it doesn't work, then I'll give up that dream and concentrate on the bar."
"That's all I'm asking," she replied, finishing her drink. "Any chance you get me another one?" She waved her empty glass in front of his face.
"No," Harvey told her as he pried the glass out of Rachel's hand. "I don't want your father or your fiancé to come after me for turning you into an alcoholic. Besides, we're closed now and you shouldn't even be here."
Rachel just pouted at him, her bottom lip obnoxiously pushed out.
"Admit it, closing time would be only half as much fun without me," Rachel crooned as she stood up and threw on her very expensive looking coat that she had hung over the back of her chair.
"I'll never admit to such a thing." Harvey said as he gently steered his friend towards the exit.
"You'll call me, though?"
"I will," He promised her as she made it outside.
This was such a bad idea Harvey thought, for what felt like the thousandth time, as he looked upon the high-rise that housed the offices of Pearson Hardman. Every part of New York was always busy, but Pearson Hardman was in an especially busy commercial part of Lower Manhattan. It was near the financial district where the city seemed to be even more chaotic than usual. Usually Harvey was fine with that, but today it made him feel claustrophobic as the crowds pushed past him on the sidewalk.
I should go he thought, but even though he had thought that several times already he still stood there, rooted on the same spot and looking up at the building in which his dreams would be either made or shattered.
Rachel would have his head if she ever found out that he had squandered the opportunity that she had handed him over on a silver platter. Harvey used that as excuse as he walked across the street and entered the foyer. Deep down he knew very well that his friend had nothing to do with him now standing there.
The receptionist didn't even check his name. Harvey just needed to tell the man that he was here for a job interview and he was let through to the elevators with the pointer that he needed to go to the 52nd floor where they would be held.
Once he arrived there, he followed the printed signs that led him to a small waiting area. It was nothing special: A few chairs, most of them occupied, a table with snacks and drinks, and non-descript art on the wall that was probably meant to give the room a more approachable atmosphere, but made it look even more like something straight out of an IKEA catalogue. There was a second hallway on the other side of the room, in front of which another desk stood. A redheaded woman sat behind it, a nonsense aura extruding off her that warned everyone in the room that she is not to be messed with.
Harvey sat down on one of the remaining chairs and immediately started to check out his competition. He was definitely the oldest in the room (including the redhead); most of the boys looked like they just started puberty with their clean-shaven faces and pudgy cheeks while the few girls looked a little bit more professional.
This was especially the case with their attire; the girls looked like they had actually put thought into their choices while the boys had probably confused price with quality. Their suits did look expensive, but Harvey saw that not a single one that was fitted just right. The pants that were either too loose or too tight, sleeves that were either too long or too short, and cuffs that didn't match with the shirts. And don't even get him started on the ties! All colours, shapes and patterns, none of them attuned with the rest of the suits and even worse – he nearly shuddered when he saw it – some ties were even skinny! How had those guys even made it this far in life?
Harvey himself did garner a few weird looks, but at least he could be sure that it was only because of his age; because, he knew damn very well that his choice of suit was impeccable. He may not be able to afford the most expensive, but when he shopped for them he only bought the best.
Every now and then, the redhead would call up someone and send them along. Having expected that it was going to take quite some time, because Rachel Zane would obviously be last on the list, Harvey pulled out his well-worn copy of 'Star Trek' (an original copy, first published in 1967) and started to read, noticing how the girl in front of him eyed the book with obvious envy from behind her Economist.
Well, she should have brought something fun instead of something to impress the others with, Harvey thought. Nearly everyone in the room was either reading (or rather pretended to read) the Economist or the Wall Street Journal. Harvey was past those petty little mind games…mostly.
Time trudged along. Harvey was sixty pages into his book, when he noticed a guy coming up the hallway and walking up to the redheaded gatekeeper. The blonde bent forward and whispered something into the woman's ear which made her face erupt into a wide smile, if Harvey's being honest her grin was bordering on manic. Then he walked back to where the interviews were being held.
Probably an assistant of the partner who was looking for an associate, Harvey mused.
The procedure became more interesting after the guy's short visit, though.
"So, Chad…" the redhead drawled after she had called up the next applicant. "What do you think is the average income of an American?"
"Eh, I-I don't know," Chad stuttered. "180 thousand, I guess."
The woman just stared at Chad incredulously, dotted something down on her phone and then sent him on.
Chad came back only ten minutes later.
"Angeline, how would you improve public transit in this city?"
"I don't use public transport. I think it's disgusting."
Seven minutes.
"Bradley, do you share your Netflix account with your friends?"
"I don't pay for it so that others can use it for free."
Eight minutes.
"Mikaela, which house are you rooting for in Game of Thrones?"
"Lannisters."
Twelve minutes.
"Cooper, what's your favourite country?"
"Well, my family owns a mansion in Florida."
Five minutes. The questions became more and more ridiculous after that.
"Who do you think is the hottest Hollywood Chris?"
"Would you rather fight ten duck-sized bears or one bear-sized duck?"
"What's the weirdest German word you know?"
Finally, the read-head called out: "Rachel Zane." Harvey stood up and walked up towards her desk. The woman just raised her perfectly plucked eyebrow at him.
"Listen, I'm all for people escaping society's oppressive gender norms and defining themselves as whatever makes them happy, but you're obviously not Rachel Zane," she told him as she sized him up.
"I'm not," Harvey agreed amicably. "But she did give me her slot."
"And why should I let you through?" the woman challenged him. "There's a reason why we only invited certain people and not others."
"I'm sure," Harvey replied, barely suppressing his sarcasm. "Your boss was obviously thrilled with Chad, Amanda and Co." The woman looked like she desperately wanted to agree with Harvey, but couldn't. "Listen, I'm the last one here, so allowing me through won't change anything, anyway. At least it would end your boss' day on a high note."
"You certainly don't lack self-confidence," the redhead replied, but the corner of her mouth twitched upwards.
"I also know that the average income of an American is around 60 thousand Dollars," Harvey continued. "I'd lower the subway fares and pay for it with a city toll for cars, I share my Netflix account with my friends, and I'm all for Sansa Stark cutting down some Lannisters. My favourite country is France, the hottest Hollywood Chris is Hemsworth, I would rather fight ten duck-sized bears, and the weirdest German word I know is Mauerbauertraurigkeit." He put on his most charming smile. "Come on, what do you have to lose?"
"My job?" the woman retorted.
"If your boss fires you over something like this, then they don't deserve you anyway." Harvey replied sincerely.
"My, you're a real charmer, aren't you?" the redhead chuckled. "Alright, you can try your luck. It's the second door on the left." Harvey dipped his head in thanks and walked into the hallway. He let his hand hover over the door handle, taking one more deep breath -steeling himself- , before he pressed down the door knob.
He entered the room – another non-descript office. Don't get him wrong, it was tastefully and expensively furnished, but it lacked any kind of personal touch; although, it did have a nice view of the streets below.
Harvey closed the door and was instantly thrown off when the person waiting behind the desk was none other than the blonde guy from before. The man couldn't be over thirty, with his slightly dishevelled hair, the clean-shaven cheeks, and the boyish smile he sent Harvey when he entered the room. Harvey didn't let his surprise show, though. He wouldn't let others see what he was feeling in this kind of setting. It would make him look weak.
"Well, you certainly aren't Rachel Zane." The blonde said in lieu of an actual greeting.
"No, I'm not," Harvey replied, sitting down in the chair in front of the blonde's desk. "I'm someone better." The other raised his eyebrows at that bold statement.
"Then why weren't you on our short list?" the blonde challenged him.
"I don't have a degree from Harvard." Harvey said in reply.
"Then where did you graduate from?" the other man asked as he leaned forward.
"Nowhere," Harvey answered truthfully. The blonde opened his mouth, but before he could throw Harvey out, he continued, "I finished a few semesters at Columbia, but I had to drop out because of family related issues. I can't afford to finish my degree there – or anywhere really – but the New York Bar Association stipulates that instead of a degree an applicant can also work under a licenced lawyer for three years to be eligible to take the Bar. Which would be you…"
"Mike Ross," the man finally introduced himself. "I know that rule but it's rarely used."
"That's because the majority of firms would rather take graduates." Harvey made sure that he kept his tone light, refusing to let the bitterness seep into his words.
"So, what's your pitch?" Ross challenged.
"I think out of the box," Harvey answered without missing a beat. "All of those other applicants you had in here today had their creativity beat out of them by Harvard and whatever university they went to. If something isn't written down in their textbooks, then it doesn't exist. I've had experience in the world out there, I know how it works. I never settle for second-best. They're all here-" he indicated an invisible line at the height of his stomach "- while I'm here." He indicated a second line above his head. "Also, I dress the best."
"No contestation on that," Ross muttered. "That sounds great and all that, but do you have the actual knowledge to back you up?"
"Ask me something. Anything."
"Civil liability associated with agency is based on several factors, including-"Ross started to cite.
"-Including the deviation of the agent from his path, the reasonable interference of agency on behalf of the plaintiff and the nature of the damages themselves." Harvey finished the sentence.
"Nice," Ross whistled. "So, you aren't all talk and no bite. At least, when it comes to the standards. Pick another topic."
"Stock option backdating."
"Although backdating options is legal, violations arose related to disclosures under RIC section 409A." Ross stated.
"You forgot about Sarbanes-Oxley." Harvey commented.
"The statute of limitations renders Sarbanes-Oxley mute post-2007."
"Well, not if you can find actions to cover up the violation as established in the Sixth Circuit May 2008." This time Ross looked truly impressed with him.
"I must admit you already had me simply by not being another Harvard clone," Ross started as he looks Harvey over again. "But you actually are capable. Also, you were the only one who didn't comment on my age. I'll talk with my boss about hiring you."
"Really?"
"I can't promise anything, though." Ross looked quite apologetic. "As much as I want to, I can't just hire you and claim you're a real lawyer. While it may sound like a great plot for a TV show, it'd be unworkable in reality."
"It's more than anyone else ever offered me." He couldn't quite believe that this was really happening.
"One last thing, though," Ross started. "I can't continue to call you Male Rachel in my head. What's your real name?"
"Harvey Specter," Harvey introduced himself. "You won't regret hiring me."
"No, I don't think I will."
Donna knew that Mike could be impulsive – after all she had experienced several instances of it, the one that comes to mind first is the time when he had gotten her a job after Cameron Dennis' office had collapsed – so she knew the moment 'Rachel Zane' left the office with a noticeable bounce in his steps that something had happened which would cause her a considerable amount of headaches.
Leaving her desk unattended, she walked briskly into Mike's office where the blonde was leaning back against his chair, his feet on the table, arms crossed behind his head as he looked out of the window.
"Please, tell me that you didn't give Rachel Zane over there the job." She had practically pleaded, even though she knew that it was a hopeless request.
"My grandmother taught me not to lie." Mike shrugged, unapologetic, and Donna let out a sigh.
"What was his pitch?" she asked instead.
"Dropped out of Columbia for private reasons and wants to finish using rule 520.41," Mike told her. And yeah, that sounded like something that would straight out move Mike to tears – he always had a thing for outsiders, outcasts, and other strays.
"Jessica wants you to find a fully-fledged Associate, not a trainee whose hands you have to hold all the time," Donna argued with Mike while crossed her arms over her chest.
"Of course, we have to verify everything he's told me," Mike half-heartedly agreed with her. "But Donna, you should have seen it. He was totally able to keep up with me."
Being aware of Mike's eidetic memory and knowing how few people there were in Mike's life who could keep up with him, Donna realised that this Male Rachel must have really impressed Mike to leave such an impression. Her boy usually wasn't someone to be easily swayed by a pretty face and a sob story, even if he came across as overly emotional sometimes.
"He's pretty old to work under you." Donna pointed out. This time it was Mike who rolled his eyes.
"Harvey's barely ten years older than me, I think." He replied with another shrug.
"So, that's his name," Donna muttered to herself. "It suits him."
"He was the most interesting one out of the bunch," Mike continued. "The others were…such bores. I could practically feel my mind wilt while they droned on about their background. President of this or that club, internship at some prestigious law firm in Boston, volunteering at soup kitchens, animal shelters…it was all very copy and paste."
"Louis and Jessica won't like it," Donna tried one last time. She needed to make sure that Mike was one-hundred percent behind this. That this wasn't just some flight of fancy Mike had come up with his bored mind. This was a real and serious commitment which ups and downs he has to consider before agreeing to it. If he decided to do it, then she would back him up until the end of the world, like she always did, but she needed to make sure that Mike had thought it through.
"Louis won't stand against it, not if I really want this," Mike replied and yeah, he was kind of right about that. Louis would argue, try to change Mike's mind and vaguely threaten him, but in the end he would back off once he realised that Mike was serious. "And I think I can convince Jessica."
"How?" Donna asked incredulously.
"Well, I haven't thought it through, but once I find the right angle, I think I can." Mike said. "Jessica is either about prestige, power or in some of her rarer moments philanthropy. I just need to work on a pitch that incorporates all three and she may be agreeable. But before I even approach her, we need to do those background checks."
"You mean I have to do those background checks." Donna reminded him.
"You just have to call Vanessa," he countered. "And you love calling her because she always has the hottest gossip in town."
Well, he had her there, Donna wasn't going to lie.
"Alright, I'll do it," she conceded. Mike beamed at her.
"I knew I could count on you."
"Flattery will get you nothing," Donna admonished him. "Honestly, I'd pay good money to be present when you try to pitch that whole idea to Jessica."
Mike's expression soured at that though. "Don't remind me."
There was nothing that differentiated Jessica's office from the other rooms on the floor and yet, as Mike slowly approached his boss' office, he couldn't help but think that it felt different. It had an invisible aura, an intangible atmosphere that hung in the air and became more and more pressing the nearer he came to the glass doors.
This, Mike thought, must be what all those adventurers in fantasy novels must feel like when they had to approach a being of greater power then themselves. This sense of foreboding and heaviness that felt like it was weighing him down.
Or maybe it was just his imagination playing tricks on his mind because he didn't really want to talk to Jessica about something he was sure she wouldn't be enthused with.
The aforementioned woman sat behind her desk, wearing a burgundy dress, her hair falling in a perfect wave over her shoulder while she typed on her laptop with her perfectly manicured fingers with nails were painted the same colour as her dress. When Mike knocked on the frame of her door she had made sure to finish her typing before looking up.
A real power move.
"Mike, come in," she said, beckoning for him to take one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Do you know what keeps failing to turn up on my desk?" she continued, not expecting Mike to actually answer her question. "A signed employment contract for an associate."
She looked at him expectantly; one eyebrow raised high.
"Actually, that was the reason I came," Mike replied carefully. "I do have a candidate, but I needed to do some background checking before I came to you."
"And that took you three days?" Mike just shrugged. Vanessa sometimes took her time, but her results were always worth the wait.
"Well, then let's hear what you have to say," Jessica said, leaning back in her chair.
"You know rule 520.4?" Mike started, but didn't have the chance to continue.
"You can't be serious!" Jessica exclaimed. "I asked you to hire a competent associate, not a trainee who's still green behind their ears."
"Hear me out, Jessica, please," Mike pleaded. His boss still fumed, but at least she hadn't thrown Mike out of her office, so he counted that as success. "His name is Harvey Specter and he has finished his first year at Columbia, but had to leave halfway through the second due to family affairs. I reached out to his professors and they all had nothing to give but the uttermost praise. While that was a few years back, he's kept up with current ligation since then. He's smart, he's knowledgeable, and he's able to think outside of the box."
"But he doesn't have a degree," Jessica pointed out.
"That doesn't say much," Mike retorted. "The only reason I managed to get into Harvard was because the Dean of my college personally vouched for me, as my grandmother's income was a few dollars over the income limit for their scholarship programs. Without his personal intervention I wouldn't have gotten it and would have never gone to Harvard. And you can't say that I don't make a terrific lawyer, can you?" Jessica stayed silent. "So, what if it's the same with Specter?"
"I don't risk the firm's reputation for 'what-if's," Jessica retorted.
"I'd be the one to supervise him," Mike replied. "Besides, you know as well as I do how much work it is to break in a freshly graduated Harvard douche."
"Don't call them that," Jessica interjected.
"My point still stands, though," Mike continued. "Specter has real-life experience outside of the protection of Harvard. He could be an asset to this firm, if you just let me do this."
"What about those family issues?" Jessica inquired. "Anything in his past that could bite us?"
"It appears that Specter dropped out to take care of his sick father," Mike recited from the report Vanessa had sent him. "Also, his brother had gambling debts that Specter paid off."
"Hell, no!" Jessica exclaimed. "I don't want anyone in my firm with that kind of leverage hanging over them. You know as well as I do that gambling debts nearly always mean organised crime."
"I had Vanessa dig into it," Mike assured his boss. "They were just regular banking debts. No connection to organised crime." Jessica still looked doubtful. "Besides, we shouldn't punish Specter for his brother's digressions."
"You and I have seen it often enough how a family member's sins can bring down even the most successful," Jessica replied.
"You can read everything for yourself," Mike said, handing over the folder Vanessa had compiled about one Harvey Specter. "But Jessica, this could be a real opportunity for this firm…and for me. I've never asked for anything, but now I am. Please, just consider it. A trial period of three months, and if he doesn't meet your expectations we can let him go."
There was a moment of tense silence.
"I'll consider it," Jessica finally relented and picked up the folder on her desk. "But if I agree to it, it'll be you who'll have to fire him should he turn out to be a disappointment. He'll be your responsibility."
"Of course," Mike hastily agreed.
"And you'll tell Louis."
Mike groaned. "Alright."
"You've been staring on your phone on and off for the last few hours," Katrina commented as she sipped from whatever Hipster beverage Starbucks was currently selling for way too much. "If you don't have any psychic powers you failed to mention to Rachel or me, then it probably won't change anything."
"You know, we have a policy forbidding customers from bringing their own drinks," Harvey pointed out rather grumpily.
"Yeah, but I'm no customer, am I?" Katrina retorted unapologetic. "I'm your friend who's been sicced on you by Rachel because she thinks that you need the distraction."
"That woman is way too meddlesome," Harvey muttered under his breath, even though he was sure that Katrina had heard him.
"You even missed our poker night yesterday," Katrina pouted. "It's not as much fun when you aren't there."
Most people – mainly men – who learned about Harvey having poker nights with Rachel and Katrina thought he had hit the jackpot, but they had never lived through the cutthroat experience that was a poker game with those two. It was scarily intense and Harvey was surprised that he was still alive, considering that he won most of the games, despite the fact that Katrina and Rachel were great players themselves.
"Logan was my stand-in," Harvey defended himself. Katrina rolled her eyes.
"When God or whoever created Logan, he must have put all stats on attractiveness, because that man has no poker face, whatsoever," she told Harvey. "It was so embarrassing, even Rachel gave up on him halfway through the game."
Before Harvey could retort anything, his phone rang and faster than he thought he was able to, he had pulled the smartphone out of his pocket and answered the call.
"Specter?"
"Hello, this is Donna Paulsen, Mr. Ross' executive assistant," came the voice from the other side. Harvey tried to squash the disappointment he felt over the fact that it wasn't Mike who was calling him. He had no reason to feel disappointed at all. "I'm calling you to inform you that Mr. Ross would like to hire you for the position as his associate. He would have liked to call you himself, but one of his clients had an emergency which needed instant attention."
"I understand," Harvey lied. "And I'm delighted to hear that Mr. Ross is willing to give me this opportunity."
"I'll be sending over all necessary documents via courier today," Paulsen continued, her tone nothing but neutral. "Please see that you fill out everything as fast as possible and then send it back to us."
"I will," Harvey promised. "And again, I thank you again for taking this chance on me."
"Don't thank me," Paulsen replied. "Thank Mr. Ross." And then she hung up.
For a few moments Harvey did nothing but stare at his phone, still dazed by the sudden turn of events, until a well-placed cough from Katrina tore him out of his state of shock.
"I got the job," he whispered, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that after years of fruitlessly trying to go after his dream it now seemed like it was finally going to happen.
Katrina, of course, was much too dignified to squeal in excitement at the news like Rachel would have done and instead only smiled at him brightly.
"Rachel and I knew that you could do it," she proclaimed, beaming proudly at him. "I'm so happy for you!" She pulled her phone from her purse and began to furiously type on it; probably telling Rachel that Harvey got the job.
"It feels unreal," Harvey admitted to her. "All these years and now it's suddenly happening. I'm a little bit afraid that it's all just a dream." Before he could even react, Katrina reached over the bar and pinched him so hard that Harvey yelped out in pain.
"What the fuck, Katrina?!" he exclaimed, rubbing his upper arm.
"Now you definitely know that it's not a dream," she replied, unapologetically, taking a sip from her cup. "Just enjoy that something finally worked out for you." Harvey still glared at her, but he mentally agreed with her. His hard work had finally paid off and for now he would just enjoy the moment.
"What are you going to do with the bar?" Katrina wanted to know. "I know, it's been always your Plan B but you really made something out of this place. Would be a shame to close it down."
"Dave's going to take over," Harvey answered her. "I'll still own the place, but he's been working here nearly since the beginning, so I think it's time that he gets a promotion."
"You seemed to have thought about everything," Katrina remarked. "This is going to be so awesome, I can feel it." Her phone rang and she looked down on the screen. "See, Rachel thinks so, too. She sent you the lucky dog!"
As Harvey smiled wryly, he thought that it was nice to have such good friends as those two.
Harvey's first day at Pearson Hardman soon arrived without much fanfare, but as Harvey stepped through the lobby and inside the elevator, his insides felt as if they were in knots. Sure, he tried to tell himself that he didn't need to prove himself to Mike anymore, because he had already done so, but through his own experiences, and Rachel and Katrina's stories, he was well aware of how competitive the world of high-end law firms actually was.
There would never be a time where he didn't need to prove himself, where there weren't any high stakes. It would be the complete opposite of his work at the bar, but Harvey also knew that he wanted – no, that he needed – this; the high stakes, the rush, the stress, the out-of-the-box on-your-feet thinking. He wasn't made for just sitting around and listening to the woes of strangers, he needed to be middle of the action.
So, yes, maybe he felt a little bit apprehensive, but it had also been a long time since he had felt so…alive. And that alone made it worth it already.
The elevator doors opened with a subdued ping and released its occupants on the floors of the law firm of Pearson Hardman. The architecture and furnishing of the place was sophisticated, but also restrained. It had clear and concise lines with no flourishes or other unnecessary adornment with a lot of glass that had stainless steel and light-coloured woods to break up the monotony.
Harvey quite liked it. It spoke of elegance and power, but with the confidence of not needing to be 'in your face' about it.
Before Harvey could start to wonder where he was supposed to go, he noticed Mike's secretary ('executive assistant' a voice in his head nagged) standing in front of the reception desk, obviously waiting for him.
"You really need to give me the address of your tailor," she spoke to him in lieu of a greeting. "Mike still buys his suits off the rack." She shook her head as if that was an argument she had long given up on fighting while Harvey had to suppress a wince.
René and Harvey had a long and complicated history, but it all boiled down to Harvey getting steep discounts for each of his suits; otherwise, there was no way he could afford the eccentric tailor's creations.
"I can give it to you, if you'd like," he answered diplomatically as he followed Paulsen through the hallway, past a few offices and a meeting room, until they stood at a cubicle in front of a wide and spacious corner office.
"Maybe. I'll get back to you about it," she hummed nonchalantly. "This is Mike's office and this is my cubicle where you'll announce yourself every time before even thinking about going in there." She levelled him with a serious stare. "Mike's currently in a meeting with Ms. Pearson, but Harold should be here any second to give you a tour of the place in the meantime."
As if he had just waited for the redhead to say his name a blonde man rounded the corner of the hallway, clearly out of breath. Harvey's first instinct was to think of a puppy or maybe a mouse due to the man's cherubic appearance with his pudgy cheeks and blonde curls that framed his face.
"I'm sorry, Donna," the man – Harold probably – panted between laboured breaths. "But Louis tried to ambush me and I had to hide in the janitor's closet until he went away." Harvey's head snapped around to look at Paulsen, horrified if this was the work environment around here, while the woman herself just rolled her eyes.
"Harold, just because Louis walks down the same hallway where the paralegals offices are, doesn't mean he's trying to ambush you," she told him.
"But I just know," Harold replied, eyes wide with fear. "If he had seen me, he would have given me all the paperwork for the Lewis settlement."
"Harold, dear, there's also the only men's restroom on the 52nd floor in that hallway, so maybe he just needed to use it?" Paulsen suggested, but from Harold's doubtful expression he didn't really seem to believe her.
"Anyway," Paulsen continued. "This is Harvey, Mike's new associate. I'd like you to show him around until Mike gets back from his meeting with Jessica." Only now Harold seemed to notice Harvey. His eyes widened a little bit in surprise before he regained his composure and offered Harvey his hand.
"It's so nice to meet you," he told Harvey sincerely.
"The pleasure is mine," Harvey replied as he shook the blonde's hand.
"I trust that you won't lose him like you lost Louis' cat?" Paulsen asked, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards.
"That cat was the devil himself!" Harold protested. Paulsen just rolled her eyes as she sat down in her cubicle and started to type on her keyboard, an obvious hint that she had things to do and they better be going.
"Honestly, there isn't really much that needs showing," Harold muttered. "Anyway, I'm so glad you're here now. I've been helping Mike ever since he became senior associate, but paralegals are supposed to work for everyone, so it's good that he's got someone who'll only work for him from now on."
"What's your job, then?" Harvey asked, honestly curious. Harold seemed like a nice guy and it never hurt to have an in with someone who knew all the ins and outs of the firm.
"Oh, I'm a paralegal," Harold replied. "Originally, I worked as a lawyer – even went to Harvard – but I wasn't really that good at it. I'm really good at researching stuff and crafting arguments on paper, but the moment I have to defend them in court or even to another person…" He shook his head as he trailed off. "I'm really much happier as paralegal. Mike helped a lot with it. He was the one who suggested it, actually."
They entered a wide and open space filled with cubicles, most of which were already occupied by overly stressed-looking men and women, reading through heaps and heaps of paper or typing furiously on their keyboards as the stared on the screens in front of them.
"That's where you're gonna live for the foreseeable time," Harold told him as he stopped in front of an empty cubicle. It didn't look that different from the rest, but Harvey was sure that Rachel and Katrina would gift him a lot of useless stuff he could place in there. He placed his bag on the table inside the cubicle, glad that he didn't have to carry it around any longer.
"Showing around the new guy?" someone sneered from behind them. "Didn't know you were demoted again, Harold."
As if it was an everyday occurrence, Harold just sighed tiredly and turned around. "Hello to you, too, Kyle. While we're being on the topic demotion, are you still degraded to proof-reading everyone else's briefs because you tripped over Ms. Kinkles dachshund which nearly made her take her account to Rand Kaldor & Zane?" Kyle turned red with indignation while Harvey could hear someone next to him snigger.
"That's only temporary," Kyle hissed. "Soon I'll be back in Louis' good graces and once I'm junior partner you'll be the one having to work for me."
"It must be nice to be able to dream so big," Harold shot back. "Unfortunately, you're no Mike Ross, so there's still a lot of time until that happens." At this comment Kyle's expression turned even uglier.
Harvey had to admit that this little tour of the floor turned out much more entertaining than he had originally thought.
"What are you laughing at?" Kyle snarled at him. "I didn't know we took geriatric cases." Harvey rolled his eyes.
"Allow this geriatric case to impart his wisdom to you," he replied. "If you're actually good at something, you don't need to put others down in order to uphold your own lacking self-confidence. Maybe one day, you'll reach that point, too, once you've learned how to deal with your crippling self-doubts." Without bothering to wait for Kyle's reply, he turned back to Harold. "Care to finish the tour?"
They did, indeed, finish the tour, which entailed highlights such as the copy room, the break room ("Don't drink Louis' smoothies or he'll kill you.") and the library (which actually was quite awesome, if Harvey was being honest).
"So, Harold," Harvey drawled as they made their way back to Mike's office. "You've shown me nearly everything, but you've forgotten something very important."
"I did?" Harold squeaked.
"Yes," Harvey replied, nodding gravely. "As someone who's been here for a very long time you probably know a lot of things about everyone working here."
"Yeah, you're probably right," Harold muttered. "But I'm not really a person who's gossiping all over the place. It's bad manners."
"Well, then it's fortunate that I don't want any rumours or hearsay from you," Harvey replied.
"Then why are you asking?" Harold wanted to know, narrowing his eyes at Harvey.
"I don't want rumours, but I'd like to know the who's who of Pearson Hardman," Harvey told him. "Like, who do I have to look out for, who's got more bark than bite, who's got the power, and who doesn't."
"There's an organigram on the firm's website," Harold pointed out.
Harvey sighed. "Yeah, but I want to know the real pecking order."
"Oh." It seemed the penny had finally dropped for Harold. "Well, Jessica Pearson is the most important person in the firm. She's really scary." He gulped. "Hardman's name's still on the door, but I haven't seen him for years. He's more of a silent partner. Rumour has it that there's a deal between him and Jessica that lets him keep his name on the wall while keeping him out of the firm and that Mike helped her orchestrate it.
Then there's Louis Litt. He's a senior partner and probably the one who gets his name on the wall in the next round. He's really good with financial stuff and fiercely loyal to the firm."
"But he's not really a peoples' person?" Harvey guessed.
Harold looked really conflicted before he answered. "He's…intense. And he only cares about your efficiency and how the firm can profit off you. It's difficult to anticipate his moods, but he also has an eye for talent. He was the one who recruited Mike and no one has risen faster here than Mike has. He and Louis kinda come as a package deal. I mean, of course, they fight often, but only behind closed doors."
"And the other partners?" Harvey prodded some more.
"Well, the junior partners don't have the necessary clout to shake anything up and most other senior partners don't dare or don't want to go up against Jessica, Louis, and Mike. The only one with ambition is Jack Soloff, but the others don't really like him, so he never gets enough votes to push his agenda." Harvey had been right; Harold was a true gold mine. Plus, he was also a pretty decent guy, so Harvey would continue to cultivate that relationship.
Mike was leaning against Paulsen's cubicle, whispering with her when they arrived. The moment he saw Harvey, a bright smile erupted on his face.
"Harvey!" he exclaimed. "So glad you could make it."
"Well, Mr. Ross, you did give me a job, so I thought it'd be only prudent to actually show up," Harvey replied wryly. In her cubicle, Paulsen snorted.
"Call me Mike," the blonde told him. "Mr. Ross makes me sound so old." He pointed at Paulsen. "And you can call her Donna."
"Hey, how about you let me decide who gets me to call what," Paulsen complained from her spot.
Mike just rolled his eyes at her antics. "You don't care as long as he fears and respects you."
"True," Donna shrugged.
"Besides," Mike continued as if he didn't hear her. "We'll be working together a lot, so there's no use in formalities." He turned to Harold. "You've shown him around?"
Harold nodded.
"Great," Mike stated. "So, you've already left a good impression at your interview, but I need to gauge your actual abilities before we can move on and, unfortunately, there's really only one way to do that." He leaned over the wall of Donna's cubicle, picked up a heavy looking pile of papers, and deposited them straight into Harvey's arms.
"Here's various stuff of varied difficulty levels that our firm handles every day, from motions even a first-year law student can fill out in his sleep to crafting legal arguments to defend our clients in court. Pick whatever you think you can handle and finish it. The more you can do the better and the faster you can get to the interesting stuff," Mike explained, giving Harvey an apologetic glance. "I know it's not the most interesting…"
"Oh, I completely understand," Harvey interrupted him. "It would be grossly negligent if you didn't make sure I can handle whatever you'll be throwing at me in the future."
Mike beamed at him as if Harvey had just handed him the secret of eternal life. "I'm so happy you understand."
"I'll just take these and get to work then," Harvey spoke, looking down on the pile of paper in his arms that seemed to get heavier with each passing moment.
"If you need help, just ask me or Harold!" Mike called after him.
Harvey did find his way back to the bullpen, as Harold had told him it was informally called, and dumped the papers down on his table. Sitting down, he took a deep breath and steeled himself.
No time to dither, he thought to himself as he took the first sheet of paper from the pile and started on it.
Harvey didn't even notice time passing as he worked. He soon realised – much to his relief – that there wasn't anything in the pile that he couldn't do. Sure, there were some tasks he needed to think a little bit longer on or where he needed to boot up his computer to look something up, but it was only every now and then and not all the time. It seemed that all those free online courses, publicly available lectures, hours spent in the library, and his own time as a law student were finally paying off as he plowed through the pile, one motion at a time.
He was so immersed in his work that he didn't even notice the man standing in front of his cubicle until, the aforementioned guy, snapped impatiently with his fingers in front of Harvey's eyes.
"How may I help you?" Harvey asked pleasantly as he took in the other man's features. He had a receding hair line, jutting ears, protruding chin, and an expression of haughtiness on his face. Harvey thought that he looked a little bit like a rat.
"You?" the man snorted. "There's nothing you can help me with. Well, except not screwing up Mike's career."
"Excuse me?" Harvey shot back, taken back by the man's instant hostility towards him.
"Oh, you may have Mike fooled with your handsome looks and your above average intelligence, but I can see right through you," the man continued, eyes narrowing at Harvey. "I was the one who recruited Mike from Harvard and guided him to where he is now and I won't have some pretty face, who didn't even make the cut for Harvard, jeopardise that."
"Look," Harvey started. This, he assumed, was probably the notorious Louis Litt and the little titbits of gossip he had picked up on the man didn't do him any justice at all. No, it was even worse. Harvey would have liked to throw down the towel and give back as good as he was receiving, but he also knew that Litt held all the power as one of the firm most powerful senior partner while it was only Harvey's first day as associate here. So, he swallowed down his pride and gritted his teeth inwardly. "I'm not here to sabotage Mike or anything. He's giving me this incredible opportunity and I owe him my absolute loyalty for that. I don't plan on disappointing him."
"I'm glad to hear that," Litt sneered, not looking happy at all. "Just know that I'll be keeping an eye on you and the moment you mess up –" he made some undecipherable gesture with his hand, probably something threatening "- you're gone and I'll be personally escorting you out those doors." He huffed, turned around, and stalked out of the bullpen.
"He's even worse than the dad of my first girlfriend," Harvey muttered. The girl in the bullpen next to him snorted and they shared a short look of commiseration before they turned back to their respective work.
The next interruption came an hour later in the form of Harold.
"Hey, how's it going?" the blonde inquired.
"Well, I already received a visitation from Louis Litt," Harvey told him.
Harold winced. "Let me guess, it didn't go well?"
"He threatened to fire me at the first opportunity," Harvey replied.
"He does that a lot," Harold confirmed with a small shrug. "He's really…invested in Mike."
"Well, that was obvious," Harvey muttered. "Is there a reason why you're here? Not that I've got something against you, but…" He glanced towards the pile of papers which – while noticeably smaller than before – was still pretty high.
"Oh, I actually came here to tell you that Ms. Pearson wants to see you," Harold told him.
"And you couldn't have led with that?" Harvey sighed. "I guess it's going to be another shovel talk."
"Nah, I don't think so," Harold said, trying to cheer him up. "Ms. Pearson talks to every new employee, so I don't think you have anything to fear."
"Where can I find her?" Harvey wanted to know.
"Right now she's in the library," Harold told him. Taking one last glance at his now rather messy desk, Harvey stood up, straightened his tie, and made his way towards the in-house library. Currently it was empty, probably because Ms. Pearson was occupying one of the tables, a laptop on her right, and an opened folder on her left.
"Do you think it's better to be feared or to be loved?" the managing partner of Pearson Hardman asked him.
Harvey mulled over that question a few moments before he answered. "I think it's about loyalty. About how far people are willing to go for you. Loyalty born out of fear is a brittle, fragile thing. It's easier to gain and you may be able to maintain it for a while, but sooner or later there'll be a moment when fear isn't enough to keep people in line. But when loyalty stems from respect, love or adoration, people will be far more willing to go further for you, even if it's to their own detriment. So, when it comes down to it, I think being loved is better."
For a few seconds Ms. Pearson did nothing but scrutinize him. Her gaze felt heavy on Harvey and he wondered what was going on behind the indecipherable façade of hers.
"Spoken like someone with a little bit more life experience than our usual first-year associates," she said after a while. She waved her hand, indicating for Harvey to sit down on the chair opposite of her.
"Do you ask all of your new associates that question?" he wondered.
"It gets the job done," Pearson replied. "Depending on their answer, I can easily conclude what kind of person the responder is."
"And what kind of person am I?" Harvey asked, honestly curious to hear what she had to say.
"You're utilitarian," Pearson told him. "You made the question about how you could better make use of people to further your own goals." Harvey didn't say anything. Privately, though, he thought that was a lot of bullshit, but he wouldn't tell that to the managing partner's face.
"Is that the reason you called me here?" he asked instead. "To gauge what kind of person I am?"
"Part of it," Pearson admitted. "I made it my business to talk to every new associate we hire, because one day they might become senior partners." She leaned back. "But I also wanted to see who this person was for whom Mike Ross would go to such great lengths. What makes you so interesting?"
"My handsome face and well-tailored suits?" Harvey offered, not being able to hold back his sarcastic streak. Pearson just raised her neatly trimmed eyebrows at him.
"I doubt that," she replied. "He's already got enough choices if he wanted that." Harvey filed that information away. "But you seemed to have caught his fancy. I don't know why, but I'm looking forward to see if you turn out to be an asset for this firm."
"And if I'm not?"
Pearson's answer was a mirthless smile.
The thing Harvey always liked the most about his condo was the way it made him feel included in the city while, also, giving the impression of seclusion in the middle of one the busiest places in the world. Through the windows he could gaze upon rows and rows of skyscrapers towering along the streets filled with cars and people alike. But no sound from outside would invade the sanctuary of his home which led to the strange state of silence in the rooms. When you looked outside and saw the activity – the buzz – you expect noise, but the tranquillity of the condo only strengthened the sense of detachment.
Well, it would be silent if there wasn't a noisy crowd of his friends sitting around the kitchen counter, drinking wine and snacking like there was no tomorrow. Harvey knew that when they were gone his shelves would be nearly empty and he would need to go on yet another grocery run.
He smiled, turning away from the window front, and walked back into the kitchen area where Katrina was currently halfway into the retelling of a strange encounter with one of her new clients. Apparently, the man suffered a strange compulsion which forced him to never be the first person to enter an empty room.
Harvey snatched himself a mini-pretzel and sat down, listening to Katrina finish her tale.
"You wouldn't believe the weird encounters I've had," Logan chuckled after the blonde had finished her story. The investment banker had his arm slung around Rachel, who was leaning into his embrace with her head placed on his shoulder. "I think half of the bankers I know only took the job because you don't need to interact with people that much."
Harvey would freely admit that Rachel was the only reason he and Logan were even friends. It wasn't as if they didn't get along with each other or something like that, but the only thing that connected them was the aforementioned woman. If Rachel suddenly vanished, then there would be no reason for them to have any contact any more. Harvey was fine with it and so was Logan.
"The money also helps a lot," Harvey pointed out. Logan lifted his beer in agreement.
"Well, I already hear him complaining about his colleagues enough at home," Rachel interrupted, her attention suddenly turning to Harvey. If he were a lesser man he might have squirmed under the intensity of her gaze. "You've been working at Pearson Hardman for two weeks already. It's time to spill!"
True. To this day it had been exact two weeks since he had started working for Mike at Pearson Hardman and they certainly had been…different from anything he had done previously. True to his word Mike had given him more and more important stuff to work on until Harvey was spending nearly half of his time in the other's office as they strategized together for their cases. It was invigorating in a way that made Harvey feel alive and free like he hadn't since his dreams of becoming a lawyer had turned to ash. Pitching ideas, challenging each other about the best approach or even just quoting movies at each other wasn't exactly the work environment Harvey had expected, but now that he knew Mike it was exactly what matched his personality perfectly.
Mike was intelligent, relentless, and cunning. But he was also caring, compassionate, and understanding, evident by the highest amount of pro bono cases he took within the firm. At first Harvey hadn't understood, because those cases didn't really improve his standing or his reputation, but then he realised that Mike didn't really care about that at all. With the certainty at the back of his mind that there was only one way for a man with his abilities; Mike could ignore intra-firm politics and concentrate purely on what he wanted to do. And when it came down to it, what he wanted was to help people.
That didn't mean that Harvey didn't bring anything to the table; Harvey was better at reading people, at gauging their wants and their needs, and using that to manipulate them into doing what he wanted. He could think outside of the box just as well as Mike could and didn't lack the self-confidence to assert himself in front of a recalcitrant client or just shut them down when they were being stupid.
They complemented each other; so good in fact, that to the people at Pearson Hardman they weren't Mike and Harvey but MikeandHarvey. It was weird to fall into place with someone so easily, but on the other hand Harvey couldn't imagine how else it was supposed to be.
After a short period of reciprocal wariness, he and Donna got along like they had been best friends their whole lives. While she didn't hold the same power or authority as Jessica, her widespread information network within the firm, and all throughout corporate Manhattan, made her someone people didn't like to cross. Also, she always had the same gossip and gift ideas. Thanks to her, Harvey already had a gift for his brother's wife that she wouldn't need to donate to the Salvation Army once Harvey left.
Harvey liked to imagine that even Louis had warmed to him by now, but he wasn't a person to indulge in wistful thinking. He and the senior partner got along like fire and water or cats and dogs. At first Harvey had tried to hold back whenever the other man had torn into him, but then Donna had pointed out that he was Mike's associate and not Louis', so he couldn't fire Harvey or even cause him any big trouble, because there were strict rules about what senior partners could and could not do with another partner's personal associate.
And Mike certainly wouldn't fire Harvey for standing up against Louis.
Now when Louis tried to threaten him, Harvey made jokes about the man's non-existent wife, which infuriated him to no end. Also, Mike had laughed that one time – even though he tried to hide it behind a cough – so Harvey assumed that he found those joke funny, too.
"It's fine," Harvey finally replied. "Great even."
"Harvey," Rachel tutted disappointed. "We don't want to know if it's fine, but who's fine." She waggled her eyebrows.
"What she said," Katrina added.
Harvey sighed. "You, too?" He turned towards Logan.
"I wouldn't mind," he shrugged.
"Traitor," Harvey hissed. Turning back to everyone, he continued, "There are some aesthetically pleasing personalities working at Pearson Hardman."
"Is your boss amongst them?" Katrina prodded.
Harvey's silence said more than a thousand words could have.
"Damn!" Rachel exclaimed. "It's barely two weeks and you've already got a crush on your much younger boss."
"No, I don't," Harvey protested through gritted teeth. Well, it would be a lie claiming that he hadn't noticed Mike's slim yet muscular build, so well accented by his slim suits and skinny ties (which he would have found ugly on anyone else, but Mike could totally pull them off), or his bright blue eyes and his tousled blonde hair. But it was only aesthetical appreciation with no feelings behind it, whatsoever. Obviously.
"I had a crush on my boss once, too," Katrina added.
"That's my dad!" Rachel exclaimed horrified.
"Not your father," Katrina retorted equally disgusted. "The overseer of the associate pool back when I first started at Rand Kaldor & Zane was a hot piece of ass." She sighed wistfully. "The wicked things I'd have done with him in that storage closet."
"Well, I got to do all those wicked things with my crush," Rachel said and gave Logan a peck on his cheek.
"You're so adorable, it's disgusting," Harvey commented, holding his hand out for Katrina to bump, which she did with great enthusiasm.
"You're just jealous that you can't kiss that boss of yours," Rachel teased back at him.
"For the last time, I do not have crush on my boss!" Harvey exclaimed to the group.
"The lady doth protest too much me thinks," Katrina cackled evilly.
"Logan, you're my new favourite," Harvey proclaimed. "And you two –" he pointed at Rachel and Katrina "- no longer get to drink my good wines."
They didn't seem to be that intimidated by his threat.
There was a crack in the ceiling. It wasn't that big or even that noticeable, but Mike had been staring at this particular one for three minutes already and with each passing second it seemed to become more pronounced. He probably should plaster it again before it could grow even wider. But on the other hand, he couldn't really be bothered about it right now. He would tell Donna to call the painters for him.
He turned his head. "Can you call the painters for me? There's a crack in the ceiling."
Donna turned her head and stared at him like he was crazy.
"That crack has been there ever since you moved in," she reminded him. "And every time I come over you tell me to call the painters."
"Which you never do, because otherwise it wouldn't be there any longer," Mike pointed out.
"Because it's nothing," Donna hushed him.
"It's on you if the ceiling carves in on me," Mike pouted.
"I can live with that," she stated.
It was a regular thing between them ever since Mark Meadows had broken off their engagement for another woman. Once a week Donna would appear in front of his apartment with two containers of ice cream; they would lie down on the carpet in Mike's living room with pillows under their heads and just talk to each other or, in some cases, listen to music until late in the evening while eating the ice cream.
"If I die you would have to work for Louis." He felt like she should feel more upset about his imaginary death.
"I'd just make sure that Harvey gets your position and I'm set," Donna countered.
"He's barely been with us for two weeks," Mike replied.
"Yeah, but Louis doesn't like him, so Jessica would give him the job just to annoy him," Donna remarked and…yeah, that definitely sounded like something Jessica would do.
"You'd shed a fake tear at my funeral, wouldn't you?" Mike asked instead.
"For you I might even do two," she assured him.
"I feel the love," Mike laughed, clasping his chest.
"Unfortunately, I'm not the real person you want love from," Donna insinuated.
"I don't know what you mean," Mike insisted, the tips of his ears turning red.
"I mean that you want some lovin' in form of a three-piece-suit and an insufferable smirk," Donna said with a smirk tugging up at the corners of her lips.
"Donna!" Mike hissed and even though they were in his living room, he was somehow afraid that Louis would suddenly appear out of nowhere and instantly know what they had been talking about.
"What?" Donna retorted, crooking her eyebrow. "You can't deny the truth!"
"You don't know that!" He countered fiercely.
"Should I list all the proof I collected over the last two weeks?" Donna threatened him. "Let's start with all the times you secretly eyed his backside when he was turned, or the many times he talked and you'd get that totally vacant expression on your face? Or how about when you quoted Start Trek at each other? How you wore a vest that one time just because Harvey thought it'd look good on you? Or how you two are always laughing at each other like some infatuated teenagers…"
"I get it, I get it," Mike interrupted her rant. "So, you don't think we could just be – y'know – friends?"
"Men in general? Of course. You two? No way in hell."
"We've barely known each other for two weeks," Mike said.
"Mike, you regularly risk your own career or Jessica's wrath for clients that just walked into your office just because you sympathise with them, so why wouldn't you totally develop a crush on the good-looking guy you spent nearly all of your waking hours with?" Donna pointed out.
"It's unprofessional," Mike protested, albeit weakly, because Donna had hit black with all of her observations like usual.
Working with Harvey was different than Mike had expected, but in a positive way. Harvey had already proven that he was witty and charming during their first meeting and he had also shown that he was no slouch in the intelligence department either. But there was also this burning intensity he displayed when they were working on a case, the will to go further and beyond to win, that made Mike think that Harvey had it in him to make it far in the world of law. But besides his cunning, there was also his softer and caring side, which he didn't show often, but the glimpses Mike got to see where therefore even more rare and precious.
It felt like they had known each other for years and not just the two weeks. It was weird, but also soothing, to have someone at your side who felt like they had belonged there from the start.
"No one would care," Donna said. "Nearly everyone at Pearson Hardman has had an office romance at one point. There are currently ten I know of and you can bet that Jessica knows, as well."
"I won't do that to Harvey," Mike stated. "He might feel pressured because I'm his superior. Also, he worked so long and so hard to have this second shot at becoming a lawyer and I won't jeopardise that because of some childish crush."
"Harvey feeling pressured into anything?" Donna repeated, raising a judgmental eyebrow at him. "Are we talking about the same Harvey here? But I won't pursue this topic any longer if you don't want to."
"Thanks," Mike replied relieved.
"I just think that you're both adults and should be able to talk it out."
"Donna!"
"Okay, okay, shutting up now."
There was a man Harvey didn't know standing in Mike's office.
It could be a client, of course, but Harvey immediately dismissed that possibility. Clients usually had an appointment or announced themselves in a timely manner and even if they did show up, they would wait at the reception until they were called in.
So, the man wasn't a client, but if he worked at Pearson Hardman Harvey couldn't remember ever having seen him. So how did he get past Donna?
A short glance towards the redhead's cubicle showed Harvey that the woman hadn't yet arrived, so that was probably the reason why the man could wander around Mike's office unimpeded. Time to put an end to that.
"May I help you?" Harvey announced himself as he entered Mike's office. The man turned around to face Harvey. He didn't look perturbed by the fact that he had been caught walking around in an office that wasn't his own.
"You must be Harvey Specter," the man spoke. "There's a lot of talk about you in some circles."
"And you are?" Harvey wanted to know, not reacting to the man's statement. Somehow the other person set him on edge, but he didn't know why. Maybe it was the way he spoke, his words slippery and settling over Harvey like a film of oil he couldn't get rid of.
"Oh, how impolite of me," the man tittered. "Daniel Hardman. You might have seen my name on the wall you walk by every morning."
So, this was the mysterious Daniel Hardman, the more than silent name partner who Harvey only had heard whispers about. He didn't look that impressive, to be honest, but as a lawyer you don't need to be.
"I ask you again," Harvey continued without reacting to the man's statement. "What are you doing in Mike's office?"
Now the smile on Hardman's face looked far more forced.
"Can't I just greet the newest senior partner in my firm?" Hardman asked with a mocking undertone, his eyebrow crooked and his smile showing pearl-white teeth.
"No, you can't." Mike's voice suddenly came from the office's door. "There's always something else with you."
The blonde stepped into the office, his gaze never leaving Hardman, and walked behind his desk. He didn't sit down. That would be a sign of weakness.
"What are you doing here?" Mike demanded.
"I'm here to work at my firm once again," Hardman replied and even though he just stated that factually, it felt more like gloating.
"My dear Alicia passed away a week ago," Hardman continued. "As you know, I've been caring for her over the last few years. Now that she is no longer with us, I feel that it's time for me to continue the work I did before that tragedy befell us."
Harvey felt like there were dozens of hidden undercurrents to the conversation happening in front of him – from the way Hardman's eyes lit up when he talked about his wife's death, to Mike's clenched jaw – that he wasn't able to pick up because he was still an outsider. He still didn't know about all the skeletons buried in the closets all over the place. He had a gut feeling, though, that this was soon to change.
"Has Jessica been informed of this?" Mike asked. "Or the board?"
"I was about to visit her next," Hardman announced.
He took a last look around. "I'm so happy to be back." With a slight nod of his head, he left the office, walking by a shell-shocked Donna on the hallway. After he had turned around the corner, she scurried into Mike's office and closed the door.
"Why is he back?" she asked angrily. Not angry at Mike, but more at the situation as a whole.
"Alicia died," Mike informed her. She seemed to understand, for all tension drained out of her posture.
"Shit," she whispered.
"Can somebody please explain to me what the hell is going on?" Harvey interrupted. It seemed that only now did Mike and Donna noticed that he was even here. Rude. "Why's Hardman coming back such a bad thing?" He vaguely remembered Harold telling him about some rumours that Hardman's departure hadn't been as amicable as it had been publicly portrayed.
"A few years back Jessica asked me to look into some financial irregularities in the firm books," Mike started to explain.
"I thought Louis was the financial Wiz?" Harvey cut in with a frown.
"Well, he was a suspect back then, so she couldn't really go to him with it, could she?" Mike laughed wryly. "Anyway, I found a few things that all pointed towards Louis, but it was...too neat, too expected, so I dug deeper and discovered that Louis was supposed to be the fall guy for someone else. I took him into confidence and together we discovered that Hardman's been embezzling money from the firm." Harvey sucked in a sharp breath. "Yeah, at first, he claimed he did it to pay for the treatments of his sick wife, but I found out that it really was for his mistress. I went to Jessica with it and she used that information to all but force him out of the firm."
"But now that his wife's dead you've got nothing to hold over him anymore," Harvey concluded. "And you can't go to the DA with it because you've been sitting on that information for years."
"Exactly," Mike nodded. "And you can bet that Hardman isn't just here because he so desperately wants to get back to work."
"He wants revenge," Harvey concluded. That was a motivation he could get behind.
"But in what way?" Donna wondered. "The board stands behind Jessica. She's made the firm number one in Manhattan; they wouldn't want to risk that. And as long as Jessica's here, you'll be protected, too." She looked at Mike who seemed to be thinking the same.
"He'll go after her reputation," Mike thought out loud. "That's what I'd do if I were in his shoes. Chip away on her reputation and when the next big threat comes up, no one will back her."
"Yeah, but if we concluded that in a five-minute pow-wow, then the other partners should be able to come up with the same, too," Harvey remarked.
"That doesn't matter," Donna replied. "They'd boot Jessica out the minute they think she's not worth the risk any longer. Also, they're all ambitious, so should the opportunity arise, they'll take it and it won't matter if Hardman's name is plastered all over it."
"So, what's our plan then?" Harvey wanted to know.
"For now, we just observe," Mike told them. "We can't do anything now. We need to know more about Hardman's plans." He paused for a moment. "Also, we still have clients and cases we need to take care of."
"Fine," Harvey sighed. He would have liked a more pro-active approach (like hitting Hardman straight in the face), but he had to agree with Mike that for now there just wasn't anything they could do, but endlessly speculate and fret; which wasn't a very enticing outlook, if he was being honest.
"I'll talk to Jessica," Mike added after a while. "Knowing her, she'll be fuming once Hardman paid her a visit. She'll have a thousand different ways to get rid of him by the end of the day." He smiled wistfully. "And until then, here's your new case." He pulled a folder out of his messenger back (a dreadfully unstylish thing) and threw it at Harvey.
He opened the folder and skimmed over the first few pages, taking in the most important information.
"Another pro bono?" Harvey whined, although he would never admit to it.
"Isn't it great?" Mike beamed at him. "Another chance for you to give something back to the community."
"I'd rather have them giving something to me," Harvey grumbled.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Harvey was fast to add. "I'm thrilled to help the community and defend innocents against the evils that plague our society." Mike frowned at him. Donna snorted.
Harvey hated all of them.
"I don't like it," Jessica said, repeating the statement that she had already voiced twice during their meeting.
"Me neither," Mike agreed. "No way in hell is he over what happened between us."
"That goes without saying," Jessica remarked as she leaned back in her chair. "Daniel's always been ambitious. He's always had a taste for the more…exclusive things in life. When we forced him out of this firm, we put an end to all of that."
If Mike was in here position he would twirl his hair or something to distract himself from the stress Jessica must surely be under, but even now that she was firmly under attack not a single part of her appearance was out of place. She was put together as always.
"But what is he intending?" he pondered aloud.
"He's cosying up to the other partners," Jessica told him. "Integrating himself with them now that he's back."
"But to what end?" Mike asked out loud. "There's no way in hell that he could persuade them to vote you out. He's been gone for too long."
"You know as well as I do that fortunes can change within a very short time," Jessica reminded him. "We cannot allow Daniel to undermine my authority unchallenged. This firm won't continue to be as successful as it was in the past if we allow ourselves to be divided."
"What do you need me to do?" Mike asked. He and Jessica may not see eye-to-eye on some issues and they would always lack a personal relationship, that she may have developed if he were someone else, but Mike was well aware that his fortunes were deeply intertwined with Jessica's. If she went down, so would he.
"I need you to find something we can use to force Daniel out of this firm...again," Jessica replied. "In the meantime I'll start a charm offensive and remind everyone why I'm the best goddamn thing that's ever happened to them."
She smiled. It wasn't charming at all.
It was dangerous.
Hardman came back and something changed within the halls of Pearson Hardman.
There had always been intrigue and power plays between the various fractions of the firm. It couldn't be helped when so many intelligent people got stuck together. And for all their various faults, none of the lawyers of the firm were stupid, because they wouldn't have been hired otherwise. But in the end, Jessica Pearson had cast too large a shadow to allow anyone to seriously challenge the Status Quo. Like a circus director she had stood atop the ring and had allowed her attractions to fight against each other for the amusement of the crowd, but she had also always kept a firm hand.
But now that Hardman was back, everything had changed. On the surface, they were all cordial to each other, even Jessica and him, but everyone was very much aware of the tension that bubbled underneath the surface. Like vultures, they were circling around those two powerful individuals, waiting for the volcano to erupt. Only then would they throw their lot and then everyone would see who would win. But until then everyone would act as if everything was the same, even though everything had changed.
Harvey tried to ignore it, because the power plays of the higher ups usually didn't touch the associate, but unfortunately as Mike's personal associate his fate would ultimately also depend on the outcome of Hardman's challenge, unlike Kyle's or Amanda's, who would continue to do subpar work, no matter who led the firm.
When he wasn't doing work for Mike – and therefore the firm – he was knee-deep in old records, trying to find dirt on Hardman or his allies, but unfortunately except for, well, you know, the embezzlement and fraud, the man was clean as a blank slate. Not even a parking ticket or a noise complaint from the neighbours.
It was really frustrating, Harvey thought, as he heaved another carton back into the shelf. He had been in the file room for hours, so by now he had foregone decorum and loosened his tie, unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to suffer the dry and stale air of the room.
With a heavy sigh Harvey was about to dedicate himself to the next box filled with old files when the door opened and Mike entered the room. Harvey didn't know if the light was playing tricks on him, but it looked like Mike's eyes widened for a split second when he looked at Harvey.
"Harvey, here you are," Mike spoke.
"You told me to look through Hardman's old files," Harvey reminded the blonde.
"Right." Mike cleared his throat. His hand went to the knot of his tie, as if he wanted to assure himself that it was still sitting tight enough. "I did that."
"Sure you're alright?" Harvey inquired, worried about Mike's weird behaviour.
"I'm fine," Mike snapped. He took a deep breath. "Sorry, it's just…it's been really stressful lately, but I shouldn't let it out on you."
"Apology accepted," Harvey replied with an easy smile.
"Actually, I came here to ask you if you wanted to accompany me to the courthouse?" Mike asked, a hopeful note in his voice. "It's pretty much open and shut, but I suppose it still beats the file room."
"I'd be happy to," Harvey was fast to agree. "You're my saviour."
Sheepishly, Mike scratched the back of his head, faint traces of red were staining his cheeks.
It looked kind of sweet.
Wait, where did that thought come from? Harvey shook his head to get rid of those inappropriate and intrusive thoughts and brought his mind back to reality.
"Lead the way," he said and followed Mike out of the room and towards the elevators. "What's the case?" he asked casually, falling easily into step besides Mike.
"Oh, housing court," Mike replied. "The landlord refused to upkeep the building. And now that he finally did something, because otherwise the city would have taken him on for various violations of health and sanitary codes, he's trying to allocate all of his expenses onto the tenants, which in some cases means raising the rent over one-hundred percent."
The doors of the elevator doors opened and released them into the marbled foyer of the building Pearson Hardman was housed in.
"So, you're arguing that he can't charge the tenants with the cost of the renovation because all of it was necessary expenses to keep the building habitable, as indicated by the health code violations?" Harvey inquired as he waved for a taxi.
"Yep," Mike confirmed as the two slid into the back of the car. Outside the taxis' windows the streets passed by, full of people all in pursuit of whatever business that had brought them to the city; a big buzz that would never abate, not now and not ever. "No judge will rule in his favour. Not when I can prove a clear history of neglect and disregard."
Harvey hummed in agreement. For the rest of the journey, they stayed silent, each of them pursuing their own train of thoughts. It wasn't awkward, though, more of a companionable silence that settled over people when they were just enjoying each other's presence. Harvey wondered how Mike still managed to make time for these cases of his that he didn't do for the firm, but for his own conscience, especially now that Hardman was dead set on destroying everything Mike had built for himself.
Harvey admired him for the persistence he displayed. He wasn't sure if he would be able to do it.
After a short ten minute ride, they finally reached the courthouse. Mike graciously tipped the taxi driver before he shut the door and turned around. They took the steps towards the big gull-winged doors and entered the hallways of the venerable court, each and every of their steps echoing on the cold marble floor.
"Look who the cat dragged in," a nasal voice drawled from one of the side corridors they passed by. Mike steps faltered and he took a deep breath before he turned around to face whoever had called out to them.
"Travis," he greeted the man that stepped towards them. Harvey would admit that he would be quite appealing to look at if it wasn't for the malicious glint in his eyes that only seemed to brighten when he took in Mike.
Harvey had, of course, heard of the infamous Travis Tanner. He was only spoken about in hushed whispers by the associates as if they feared if they said his name out loud he would appear and make them go against him in court. He seemed to have an obsession with taking cases against Pearson Hardman and was not above using underhanded tactics to get what he wanted. Whenever there was trouble for the Pearson Hardman, Travis Tanner was soon to follow, or so the saying went.
"Mike Ross and his guard dog," Tanner needled them.
"I do quite fine without one against you," Mike taunted back. "Or do I have to remind you how I trashed you right in this court only two months ago?" Tanner's face took an ugly shade of purple, but as a lawyer the man was better composed than to react to Mike's statement.
"I never denied that you had the skill," he shrugged. "I just think that talent as yours is wasted at Pearson Hardman."
"And let me guess, I would do much better if I came over Smith & Devane and worked under you?" Mike rolled his eyes.
"Well, I wouldn't mind you being under me," Tanner jeered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Something hot washed through Harvey and coiled in his stomach. When he glanced down, he noticed that his right hand was balled into a fist. Just the thought of this slimy character getting his hands on Mike made him feel physically ill.
"Not even if you were the last man on Earth," Mike refused him.
Tanner just shrugged, as if he had expected Mike's rejection. "One day, you'll wake up and realise that this –" he made a sweeping gesture over his torso "- is what you crave."
Again, Mike just rolled his eyes. "Dream on. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a trial to win. You remember, trials are those pesky procedures you usually lose against me." And without allowing Tanner to get another word in, Mike turned on his heels and walked away, Harvey followed behind him only a split-second later.
"Wow, that was really…" Harvey trailed off as he tried to find the right word.
"Travis is all bark and no bite," Mike assured him. "He goes up against me, we trade some insults, he tries to get into my pants, I reject him, he vows that one day I'll fall for his charms and then we go our separate ways until we meet again." He furrowed his brows. "I think I'd even miss him if he were to suddenly disappear."
"Were you ever tempted to take him up on his offer?" Harvey knew that it wasn't his place to ask something so personal. That Mike was his boss and could do whatever he wanted in his private life, no matter what Harvey thought about it, but there was this persistent compulsion in his mind that forced him to ask the question.
"No," Mike replied resolutely. "I don't doubt his physical prowess and if he wasn't such a slime ball I'd totally take him to bed, but his personality totally ruins that great body. But honestly? Long-term, I want to be with someone who actually has a personality I can stand. There has to be more than sexual attraction."
Harvey didn't know why, but he felt lighter after Mike's admission. The man deserved someone better than that cardboard douche Tanner. Mike deserved someone who would value him for all the right things and not just his appearance; someone who would treat him right.
"But enough of Tanner," Mike continued. "Let's go and win this case!"
Harvey couldn't help but smile. Mike's enthusiasm was infectious.
That was the moment he realised that he was utterly fucked.
"I'm fucked," Harvey proclaimed dramatically as he let himself fall into the last free chair at the table Rachel and Katrina were already sitting at.
"By that boss of yours, hopefully," Rachel joked. Harvey just glared at her. A waitress walked up to their table and took their orders before she retreated again.
"I might have realised that I've got a little, tiny, barely even there, crush on Mike," he admitted and every word was like pulling teeth, because that was what Rachel and Katrina had been telling him for ages already and he knew how smug those two could get if they turned out to be right.
"Oh, Harvey," Katrina said, laying her hand atop his forearm. "I'm not going to lie and tell you that we didn't see this coming from miles away, but that's no reason to be all gloom and doom."
"I just realised that I might have feelings for someone unattainable to me," Harvey reminded her. "He's my boss and even if he wasn't, there's no way that he's feeling the same way."
Rachel rolled her eyes.
"Look, I don't want to dictate how you're supposed to be feeling," she started, "but right now, this is like all those books and movies, just before there's a lot of pining and yearning because everyone's so sure about the other person's feelings." Before she could continue, the waitress came back and placed their beverages in front of them.
"Is he into men?" Katrina asked.
"Yeah," Harvey told her.
"See, the greatest hurdle is already out of the way."
"I'm not saying that he's into you, too, because I haven't even met the man," Rachel continued. "But you'll never know if you don't take the chance." She took a sip from her coffee. "The boss thing, though." She winced. "That's just a mess waiting to happen. I guess, when it comes down to it, it's all about whether it's worth it to you or not. But if you really feel something for him – something serious – then maybe it's worth the risk?"
"I'll be honest with you, too," Katrina added. "That boss thing seriously complicates everything, but you shouldn't let that get in the way of your happiness."
Both Harvey and Rachel stared at her as if she had grown a second head.
"What?" she exclaimed. "I'm a romantic at heart. Besides, there are forms and agreements for that, to keep it all consensual and above-board. Just sign those before you do the dirty and you're in the clear."
"That does sound more like the Katrina I know," Harvey chuckled. He wanted to add something else, when suddenly two men on the other side of the street caught his gaze. He could barely believe it, he even rubbed his eyes, but they didn't vanish. There, barely a few meters away from the café they were currently sitting it, were Daniel Hardman and Travis Tanner animatedly talking to each other.
Without hesitation, Harvey pulled out his cell phone and took pictures of the scene.
"I think I might have just saved my job," Harvey explained to the two confused women.
If there was one thing all partners at Pearson Hardman hated above else, then it would be threatening their reputation and their income.
With Harvey's pictures and subsequently a little bit of digging, Mike was soon able to prove that Hardman was providing Tanner with confidential insider information so that he and his firm could go against their clients and pick them off one by one. Hardman's plan had been to use it to frame Jessica's leadership as weak and incompetent in order to boot her out of the firm.
The board had voted him out faster than Republicans voted for tax cuts.
All in all, it was the best outcome Mike could have hoped for. Hardman was gone and Jessica owed him for exposing her opponent. Also, Harvey's place was definitely secure, now that he had proven himself.
"I'm so glad that this is over now," Donna said from where she was sitting on the couch in Mike's office. "Now we can come back to the things that really matter."
"And what would those be?" Mike asked drily.
"You're continuing refusal to ask Harvey out when you so clearly want to," Donna stated.
"Not that again," Mike mumbled, more to himself than to her, as he eyed the redhead.
"He's the hero of this firm," Donna continued as if he hadn't said anything at all. "No one would dare say anything, not after what he did. His standing is rock-solid now, so you could just, you know, ask him out."
"I already told you why I won't," Mike reminded her. "I'm his boss and that's no basis for any healthy relationship." Donna looked like she desperately wanted to say something, but she refrained. Probably because she knew that Mike was right.
"If he's the one to ask you out, would you say yes?" Donna wanted to know after a while.
Mike thought about it. "I seriously doubt that this is ever going to happen, but if he walks right through my office door and asks me out right now, I'll say yes."
There was a triumphant glint in Donna's eyes. Mike felt like he had made a mistake he didn't even know about.
"What will you say yes to?" Harvey entered his office, looking impeccable as always.
"Going out with you," Donna said without missing a beat.
Harvey turned towards Mike. "And, will you?"
"Will I what?" Mike repeated, his emotions oscillating between confusion and the sudden urge to make Donna combust just with the power of his glare.
"Go out with me?" Harvey asked, a hopeful smile on his lips.
Mike was speechless. For a short moment, he feared that all of this was just a cruel joke, but then he looked at Harvey –really looked- and noticed how sincere and hopeful he looked. The way his smile tugged at his lips, the way his eyes shone with warmth – and Mike realised that this was it. This was his chance.
"I'd love to."
"Finally!" Donna cheered as she threw her arms into the air.
