Get a cab. Get a cab. Get a-okay, don't fall, and then get a cab. Don't fall, get a cab. Don't fall, get a cab. Stay dry, and don't fall, and get a cab. Find coffee, stay dry, don't fall, get a cab. Answer phone, hold coffee, stay dry, don't fall, and-
"Mike! Hi! Can you hang on a second?"
-where is the goddamn cab?
Finally, someone takes pity to her and splashes to a halt at the curb. Forced to lower her umbrella, she curses the rain and slides into the back seat. She tosses the wet umbrella into the floor, her purse in the seat next to her, and puts the phone back to her ear.
"I need the Pearson Hardman building. I dunno the ad-" The car starts forward with a jolt. "Well, alright then. Mike? You still there?"
"Yeah, I'm here. So you're back." She smiles, lifting her coffee to her lips.
"I just got in last night. Just in time for the great flood, apparently." He chuckles.
"Lovely, isn't it? How was the weather in Saint…Thomas?" he asks uncertainly. She laughs.
"Tropez. Saint Tropez."
"Yes! That one. Sorry." She smiles.
"It's okay. It was beautiful, thank you. I had a great time."
"Good! Good." He clears his throat. "Um, well, I am being interrupted it looks like, so I'm gonna go but I'll see you soon. I hope I'm around when you get here."
"Yeah, me, too. See you in a little bit-" He's gone. Looking at the phone, she shrugs. Sipping her coffee, she scrolls through e-mails. The cab stops and starts with the traffic, rain pounds the windows. Goodbye, Mediterranean vacation. I guess it's really over now, isn't it?
She closes her e-mail and returns the phone to its home screen. The background is a picture of her with her boyfriend, taken on the bow of the boat they'd rented. Nichola, blond and brown-eyed, wears a wide smile next to her grinning, light-eyed and dark haired Matthew. Behind them, the French Riviera glitters bright blue.
Stepping out of her cab, Nichola looks up at the Pearson Hardman building rising high in front of her. The sheer size of the place blows her away. It's massive, and beautiful, and scary. If not for the rain, she would love to stand outside and look at it some more, but her open-toed shoes are making her feet very wet and very cold, and the rain seems to come down harder the longer she stands there. She seeks refuge inside the heavy glass doors and waits for Mike.
This can't possibly be summer. I was only gone two weeks. It's still July, right?
The elevator stops and she steps into a massive lobby. Past the front desk is a spacious seating area with the biggest couches she's ever seen. Behind that is what has to be the biggest window in the world. Slightly mesmerized, she bypasses the secretary and goes to look. Damn. Half the city is visible outside that window. It's beautiful, even in the rain. Saint Tropez can suck it.
"Michael Ross, if you're not careful someone might mistake you for a real lawyer," she says, grinning at him as he exits the elevator in front of her.
"What, in this suit? No way." She laughs and hugs him. He pulls away and holds her at arms length.
"First off, you are stunning. Not that you aren't always," he adds quickly, "but wow, Saint Tropez did you some good." She smiles.
"You're sweet, thank you."
"Second off, Jesus, is that a sunburn?" he asks, lifting up the neck of her cardigan to look at her shoulder. "Have you heard of sunscreen?"
"I…yeah. That was stupid, on my part. And I'm paying for it, it hurts like hell." He throws her a sympathetic, puppy-eyed look.
"I am so sorry. Seriously, though. Sunscreen. Like a…two hundred SPF or something." She smiles.
"Yeah, I'll have to remember that for next time. But that's not what I came over here for. God, Mike, this is incredible." He nods, a humble smile on his lips.
"Yeah, I know. Amazing, right? I-yeah, this is all kind of amazing and…" He clears his throat, glancing over her shoulder, "we really shouldn't be in here. I hate to go outside but, there's a hot dog stand under a tent out here. It's like, right around the corner. You hungry?"
"I am, actually." She opens her umbrella again and holds it over them as the step back into the downpour. "You're lucky I missed you so much. This rain is terrible." He laughs.
"Thanks. I'm sorry, if I could get a proper lunch break I'd take you somewhere that's actually indoors, but it'll be a miracle if I can get through a hot dog without getting called back." She smiles.
"They're really kicking your ass, huh?" He nods.
"You have no idea. My boss is like-oh my God, you've got to be kidding me."
"Mike." A man climbs out of a car under the safety of a large umbrella and immediately fixes Mike with a disapproving stare. "What the hell are you doing? You're supposed to be filling out that subpoena."
"I know. It's done. I came to get lunch-"
"This had better be our witness you're talking to." Mike shakes his head as the man comes to a stop a foot from Nichola.
"No. No, actually, this is a friend of mind, Nicholaaaa-you don't care. I know." Nichola looks him up and down as Mike nearly melts into the sidewalk. Expensive shoes, very expensive suit. Slicked back hair and a smug look on his attractive face. His brown eyes find hers and she sees a flicker of interest in the way they twitch in her direction.
"Harvey Specter," he says, extending his hand. "Senior partner."
"Nichola Scott," she replies, grasping his hand briefly.
"Well I hate to rain on your lunch date, Mike, but I need your help inside. Wrap it up?" Mike sighs, his shoulders sinking.
"I am so sorry for dragging you out here in this, Nic-" She smiles.
"It's alright, I understand. You have a job to do."
"Can I make it up to you with dinner tonight?" She smiles.
"Sure. Text me and lemme know when you're free." She glances at Harvey as she turns away. "Nice meeting you, Harvey. Go easy on my boy, will you? I'd like him in one piece."
"Ahh, I can't make any promises." She smiles.
"Of course not. See you later, Mike," she adds, turning around and heading back down the sidewalk. Harvey watches her walk away before rounding on Mike.
"Does she know?" he asks, pointing in the direction she left.
"Know what?" He narrows his eyes.
"Anything that could screw this up."
"Oh. Uhm-but you don't have to worry about her, I swear. This is not the worst thing she could know about and she's always been-it's fine. She's fine. I trust her." Harvey looks at him critically.
"Mike, you can't-you can't just tell people about this. It's a big deal," he says sharply.
"I know. I know. But I swear, she's the only one that knows and I didn't tell her everything, she kind of…it's fine. I swear."
"You tell her whatever you need to tell her to make sure she keeps her mouth shut." Mike nods.
"Of course."
"Don't make a habit out of having her here, either. You can hang out with your friends on your own time."
"Right."
"And don't tell anyone else."
"Yeah, I got it."
"Come on, I have another witness for you to go see."
"You can't say anything, Nic. Not to anyone. Ever." Mike's blue eyes bore into hers. His voice is low, without a hint of a smile anywhere on his face. She nods. She's never seen him so serious about anything.
"Yeah, of course. I'm sworn to secrecy." He nods, relaxing a little.
"I mean it. Not even Matthew." She nods.
"Absolutely."
"Thank you." This time his eyes meet hers a little uncomfortably. "Sorry, I don't mean to do that to you but-" She smiles.
"What, you think we don't have secrets? It's fine, Mike. You don't have to worry." He relaxes further, picking up his glass.
"You're the best, Nic, really." She smiles, picking at her fries. "So, how is it? What's it like? Harvey seems like a bit of a hard ass." Mike chuckles, raising his eyebrows slightly.
"A bit? Yeah, you could say that. But he's really not-he knows what he's doing." He sips his water. "It's good, though. Rough, but, I'll do what I have to, you know?"
"I know. That's good. And I know…how this came about, but I'm proud of you, Mike. I know how much you want this. I hope it works out." Even though she has no idea how that's possible, she genuinely hopes something good comes out of this, instead of all the bad endings she sees. Stranger things have happened.
"Thanks. I, uh, I don't really know how this is gonna end up, but who the hell knows?" he asks with a nervous laugh. Nichola smiles.
"Who the hells knows. That's my motto right there." He grins.
"Yeah, I know." Smiling, she dips a fry in honey mustard. "So where is Matthew? Did he-?"
"He's in London, for work. There's a problem with the paper; he left early. He should be back this week, if everything goes okay." Mike nods. Nichola sighs softly. "I have to go back to work tomorrow. I don't want to."
"Hey, at least you get an eight hour day." She smiles.
"That's true. I could be you. Wow, wouldn't that suck."
"An honest days work? Yeah, that would probably kill you, wouldn't it."
"Ah-ha-ha. Except you're a lawyer, now. Not a day of work from here on out will be honest." He laughs.
"Funny. That's a good one." She grins.
"Thanks." He watches her stir her tea with a straw, knocking the lemon farther down before taking a sip.
"I'm glad you're back, Nic." She meets his eyes and smiles. For the first time he lets himself crack a little. She knows things can't have been easy around here lately, with the demise of his friendship with Trevor. Not that that isn't for the best, but it's still hard. She reaches out and squeezes his hand.
"Me, too. I missed you."