Harvey's driver, Ray, drops him off in front of a tall, lavish building that appears to contradict everything athletic that he knows. He represents many sports clients such as Michael Jordan, Derek Jeter, and Eli Manning, but he's never delved into the world of sports equipment before. With the change of management at P-Sports Equipment, all firms are making a move. Right before David Paulsen retired he fired the long time firm that had represented the company since their start date, and Harvey has only heard rumors as to why. So, Jessica decided that since sports is Harvey's area of expertise, it is his job to woo the new CEO into joining their firm. If he can do that, the firm will officially become Pearson Specter, fair and square.
Here Harvey stands on the sidewalk of a 65 story building labeled P-Sports encased by a star and he suddenly gets it – masters of customization in sports equipment. The company is a major sponsor of the New York Yankees, it's only fair that he represent them since he already represents the captain of the baseball team. The moment he steps into the lobby, he's blinded by gold plated everything, a vintage look which is completely the opposite of his taste. The lobby is relatively quiet and he thinks at least there's three people manning the front desk, a man and two women, one of the women being a security guard. His footsteps echo in the tall, open spaced lobby because there's not much for any noises to be cushioned by, and he gives the small group a curt nod on his walk to the elevator.
When he steps off of the elevator and on to the sixty-fifth floor, Harvey catches a glimpse of the same mysterious red head he had encountered numerous times over the weekend. He's torn about what reaction he should have. Just a few days before, she was running away from him after she kissed him. He's spent all weekend trying to decipher what it all means, and he came to the conclusion that it was a waste of his time, worrying over her actions, or so he thought, until now when he's coming face to face with her.
He swallows a thick film of saliva that has gathered in the back of his throat and lightly knocks on the glass door to get her attention before proceeding into her office. She looks up from her computer, pen between her teeth, and she looks taken aback for a few moments. She takes the pen out from between her teeth and offers him a tight smile.
"Mister Specter," she greets, pushing herself to her feet, "Please come in."
"Donna Paulsen" he says, advancing further into her office. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he finally reaches her desk and offers her a hand to shake. "It's nice to have a name to the face."
"All you had to do was ask," she says. She slips her hand into his. He's too distracted by the softness of her skin to remember to action make a hand shaking motion.
He slowly removes her hand from his grasp and says, "Before or after you kissed me?"
"Preferably before," she says without missing a beat.
"That was a stupid question," he muses with a nervous chuckle. She gestures to the chair beside his knee and his gaze follows where she's pointing for a brief moment before unbuttoning his jacket and taking a seat. "Let me take you to lunch. We can discuss a business plan."
"I can't," she replies, taking a seat in her own chair, "I'm very busy. It was a wonder I could pencil you in at all today."
"Busy like a bee," he mutters. She smiles tightly like she's trying to amuse him. "Over dinner?"
She smiles that same apologetic smile that has lingered in the forefronts of his mind for days. She lightly shakes her head, laughing, and drops her gaze from his. His eyes narrow as he observes her. She lifts her gaze back to his. "Mister Specter, you can't date me and do business with me."
"You don't have to be so formal," he replies there, "You can call me Harvey."
He watches her turn her chair ever so slightly and cross her right knee over her left. His resilient smirk only wavers at the corners of his mouth, which he hopes goes unnoticed. She smiles, tight-lipped and amused.
"Okay, Harvey," she says, enunciating dramatically, "Whatever is happening here is either business or pleasure. Not both."
"Trust me," Harvey says, a cocky smirk framing his face, "I am quite capable of doing both at the same time."
"I don't mix business with pleasure," she retorts. She leans back in her chair even more and absently taps her fingers on the tabletop. Harvey watches her movements then, intently gauging exactly what she's trying to tell him. He can't tell if she's challenging him to pursue both. He can't read her one bit. She leans forward then, his eyes trailing to her slightly exposed cleavage, and says, "I'll tell you what. I'll give you one dinner date and one lunch proposal to decide which you want."
"What are you afraid of, Red?" He challenges, sitting on the edge of his seat. "My firm pleases your business. I pleasure you. It's my job."
"So you try to sleep with all of your clients?" She counters, eyebrow quirked.
"Despite the things that are said about me, my moral standards typically surpass these situations," he admits. He's practically salivating at the exposure of her thigh and he doesn't for a second realize that he isn't really thinking clearly. He swallows then, eyes trailing the length of her frame again before he ultimately decides to lay it all out there. "Look, Donna," he pauses then as she physically reacts to her name coming out of his mouth, her hips shifting in her seat in the slightest, enough for him to know that if he weren't looking for it then he wouldn't see it, "I'm saying here that I am open to pursuing this opportunity to explore whatever that thing is that I feel between us, I know you feel it, too, but also that you'd be an important asset to my firm, that your company is a top priority for me."
"And I'm saying," she starts firmly, "that I don't date people I work with. So that deal I offered you, take it or leave it."
He sighs then, annoyed at her determination yet impressed by her at the same time, and lifts his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. He supposes he is showing her his hand and by laying all of his cards out on the table he isn't doing anything. He drops his hand, the sound of it slapping against his knee echoing in his ears, and stands there. He nods at her once, firmly, and offers her a tight smile.
"I'll have my secretary call yours to set up that lunch meeting," he says. He's not sure where to go from here. He's standing in her office, looking her in the eye, and isn't quite sure what he's supposed to say to her. Instead, he just stands there for a few moments too long looking like a fool in the middle of her lavish office. "I apologize for being presumptuous. I shouldn't have thought that you're attracted to me just because you kissed me."
"I am attracted to you, Harvey, but that doesn't mean I want to jump into bed with you," she counters.
"You couldn't get away from me fast enough," he muses, his hands sneaking into his pockets to keep his nervous ticks at bay. He laughs quietly. He says, "I have to admit, that's the first time that's ever happened to me."
"Your reputation precedes you," she agrees, "I've heard all about your sexcapades."
"It's more complicated than that. You don't know me as well as you think you know me," he says in response.
She quirks an eyebrow then, slightly amused it seems, and stands. She says, "Dinner tomorrow night, seven pm sharp. Don't be late." His forced smile easily shifts into a real one. She pushes the intercom button on her telephone and, after the loud beep, says, "Mike, get Mister Specter my address on his way out."
"I should probably get going," he says then, lifting his hand from his pocket and gesturing behind him with his thumb.
"Yeah," she absently agrees. Their gazes lock. He feels his heart beat in his throat. He swallows the lump and chalks it up to coincidence. This has never happened to him before. She smiles widely and he likes the way it sits on her mouth. "Have a good day, Mister Specter."
He thinks it sounds like she's singing his name. A genuine smile spreads across his features. "You as well, Miss Paulsen."