Many people would kill for my view, and I'm not talking about the panoramic view of the New York City skyline. I tapped my fingers against my desk as I absentmindedly let my gaze travel to its usual resting place. Through the glass walls in front of me was a plush and professional office, a large space occupied by an even larger personality. I couldn't help but silently admire the sight of him, sitting at his desk, eyes fixated on the screen in front of him. Everything about him screamed confidence; a confidence that many would say is mistaken for pure arrogance. From his perfectly tailored suit that no doubt cost more than a years rent for me, his slicked back hair to the creases that form on his forehead when he is deep in thought, to me it was all perfection. I bit my lip as his gaze rose, his eyes meeting mine briefly as a small smile spread across his face, causing my heart rate increasing tenfold in a matter of milliseconds. It was my job to keep him in line, to keep him happy, and over the years that we have worked together we had inevitably become friends. Best friends. He was my go to guy, my emotionally unavailable go to guy, but my go to guy nonetheless. He was always there when I needed him. Harvey Specter has got me out of various sticky situations over the years and in return I organise his life, bring him his daily coffee and act as his personal cleaner when I pick up the broken hearts he leaves lying on the floor from yet another nameless face. He was attractive, and he knew it, he could and would get any girl he wanted in this City with no more than a wink, girls would simply fall at his feet, myself included. Any hot-blooded female can empathise with me, when you have an overwhelming crush towards someone, where your blood boils, your breath quickens and your libido goes through the roof at the sound of his name. Where your fantasises go into overdrive and you spend every waking moment around them mentally (and physically) restraining yourself from jumping them there and then. 'You just need to get it out of your system' your friends say; 'have your wicked way with him and then you'll be able to move on', God, how wrong they were.
I remember the night well, as if every second, every detail is etched into my memory for eternity. I close my eyes letting the memories consume me, my mind instantly filling with visuals that had me reaching for a cold class of water, my body burning up. One night with Harvey Specter was enough to put any past sexual escapades to shame, and any encounters since leaving you frustratingly unsatisfied. It was almost cruel how one individual was so much more evolved in comparison to the rest of the male race. I envy the girls who get disregarded by Specter, who can mourn the loss of the 'best they ever had' and mend their shattered hearts knowing they are unlikely to ever see him again, whereas I spend up to 12 hours a day, 5-6 days a week staring at him through a pain of glass, wondering what I did to be lucky enough to have a job like this whilst simultaneously wondering why bitch karma feels the need to hurt me so. You see, after our night together, I was convinced that there were three possible outcomes;
1. I wake up the next morning, hair sticking to my face, laboured breathing, cursing myself for having another explicitly realistic dream.
2. It was in fact real and I would run to the bathroom, do a 10 second celebratory gig before slipping on a wet tile, hitting my head and dying instantly (but very satisfied).
3. I wake up, notice the empty can of whipped cream lying on the rug, turn over to see a note resting on the pillow beside me with three words scratched across the paper 'You're fired, sorry.'
Yet Harvey decided to go with the unspoken option 4, the option I would have never thought of or assumed would work- act like nothing happened and business as usual. And that's how it's been for the last seven years; neither of us have mentioned that night to anyone else, or each other for that matter, it was as if it had never happened. For Harvey, it had simply been another meaningless fling, a chance to distress, get his fix and go home without a worry in the world, but for me it was the beginning of a soul destroying torment where my emotions and my body refused to hide my true feelings from myself any longer. I had unknowingly fallen for my boss, so hard and so deep, that I wasn't sure there would ever be a way out.
I was knocked out of my thoughts as Harvey's voice blared through the intercom, his eyes fixated on me as he spoke "Donna, can you come in here a moment". I inhaled and exhaled deeply as I pushed my chair away from the desk, straightening the cobalt blue Valentino dress I was wearing, before walking into his office. "I have incredible taste" He quipped, his eyes falling on my dress.
I roll my eyes, flipping my long auburn hair over my shoulder as I rested a hand on my hip "Says the man that pays through the nose for someone to dress himself, yet can happily pick out a dress for his secretary. Anyone would think you are living vicariously through me, Specter."
He leant back in his reclinable leather office chair, a small smug smile pulling at his lips as he raised an eyebrow "Anyone would think you are calling me a closeted cross dresser Donna"
"Your words, not mine. Anyway, what do you want? And if you say lunch, use your own goddamn legs or get your bitch boy Mike to fetch you a bagel, these heels are for aesthetic purposes only, not to be walked in"
Harvey let out a small laugh, his face quickly returning to his usual serious express "Sit down." He indicated towards the leather sofa as I looked at him quizzically, he was either after something, or shit has hit the fan. "I…need to ask… you…a" he looked pained as he tried to deliver his sentence "favour. I need to ask you a favour."
"You Harvey Specter, asking lil old me for a favour? Gosh dammit has hell frozen over?" I asked wide-eyed, feigning a southern accent, all too amused with how hard this was for Harvey. He has always been a lone ranger, never asking or needing help from anybody.
"Seriously Donna" he sounded annoyed at my mocking "You know if there was any way humanly possible that I could do this without you I would." Now he had me intrigued. "Donna…" he stood up, walking towards the window, staring out at the New York skyline "My mom's coming to town. It's, It's the first time I will have seen her since my dad died."
My perfectly maintained eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as I looked at the back of him "But that was four years ago…" I trailed off, not understanding how somebody could have not seen a parent in so long. Hell, my parents lived in Connecticut but I still managed a weekly phone call and a visit once a month.
"I know." He spun around to look at me once more "Look, I suck okay? I hear enough of that from my brother. I just for once, need to look like I have my shit together"
I was still confused "You're one of the most successful lawyers in the country, you have more money in the bank than a small African country and you own several properties over the country. I would say you have your shit together, Harvey."
"My mom doesn't care about that shit. She ranks my brothers career as a high school science teacher at the same level as me. If anything, I'm the failing sibling in her eyes, I have no wife, no children, my life is work."
"But that's how you like it…"
"But to my mother, that means I am unhappy with life, and it means my brother is winning. He cant win, I'm the winner. It's was genetically made that way"
"Okay…" I'm not going to lie, I have little to no clue what the fuck Harvey is going on about, or how I could possibly help. I mean I know I am amazing at everything I do in life, but not even I could cast a magic spell and give Harvey Specter an alternate life, especially one where he is a family man.
"I'll cut to the chase because you look constipated when you're confused. I need to prove to my mom that I'm winning in life mainly so she'll get off my back, and so she can realise that the shit I do 80 hours a week is not the same as teaching some prepubescent kids about cells or whatever. Donna, I need you to pretend you're my girlfriend when my mom comes to visit."
My jaw fell open as my eyes subconsciously scanned the four corners of the room "Am I being punk'd? Please tell me this is 2009 and Ashton Kutcher is about to jump out from behind your desk, because you have got to be kidding me."
"Donna, do you really think I'd be asking you this for shits and giggles? No. I'm serious. One week, just one week. I'll triple your salary; I'll buy you a car. That dress you're wearing- you can have it in every colour. Don't make me beg, I'm Harvey Specter for Christ's sake." A mischievous tight-lipped smile spread across my lips and as if Harvey could read my mind "I'm not begging Donna."
"Harvey, you have money in the bank, surely theres some failing actress in the city who would happily play your make believe girlfriend in return for a hot dinner and potentially a photo in the newspaper. Why me?" Why me?
"Because it would be believable."
What? "What?" I echoed my thoughts.
"People think we're together or have been together anyway, they must see something we don't. Plus you get me, and I get you."
Oh bitch karma, what did I ever do to you? Did I kill someone in a previous life? Did I judge someone's life choices one too many times? "One week?" I asked defeated, after all, how could I say no to him?
"One week."
I exhaled, standing up to leave "Okay, one week."
He shot me one of his famous smiles as he sincerely replied "Thank you Donna."
I nodded wordlessly as I left the room in a state of disarray "Oh, Donna?" I turned around to face him "There's one more reason why I chose you to fake it with me."
"W-what's that?" I stuttered out
"Because you're into me."
Oh god, what have I agreed to?
Hello! Well it's the first time i've been on FF in 4 years. So take it easy on me and let me know what you think. If i dont hear anything or you guys hate it i'll stop. but if you like it expect frequent and longer updates!