Chapter Seven


She hadn't mentioned Elias's offer to anyone else, figuring out it might be the best if it stayed like one of those secrets that should be remained hidden for everyone's sake. She hadn't thought about it much, either, or at least she hadn't let herself think about it much, because she simply couldn't be the person he was looking for.

Though, she wasn't sure if it was because of Harvey, or because of her own issues, but that feeling of purposelessness was still there, still cruelly mocking her between acting classes, yoga workouts and French lessons, and she had no idea how it would go away.

She smiled, walking out of the theater, her arms full with texts that she was supposed to memorize for the next week, a chore that she was looking forward. Anything to keep her mind busy and off from her depressed existentialistic thoughts. Briefly she wondered if she should go see a therapist, but she crashed the notion as soon as the thought appeared in her mind. She hated therapists, she hated the fact that she should talk about her own feelings... She was Donna, she helped everyone, she knew everything. Not the way around.

She would still remember the counseling sessions her mother had used to force on her when she was a child that her parents were about to divorce, and that piercing look the man was giving her; sterile, dissecting to decide what she was saying was truth.

She had told him exactly what she had been feeling; "It's okay, I understand it. People change. Feelings change. But I know they still love me."

Her mother had been so worried to hear those words from her fourteen years old girl, like she had been expecting tantrums, cries, and riot acting, but what was the point of it? She had lived them in the same house. She had watched with her own eyes how unhappy they made each other, so—lifeless. There had been no fight in the small humble adobe of Paulsens. They had exhausted each other so much that there was no energy left in them to raise even their voices.

Her attitude hadn't been a form of defense-mechanism, it wasn't a forced indifference to run away from the truth that her parents would never be together again, or so she had thought. But looking backward, she didn't feel sure of it anymore. Her understanding of human behavior and physics had been always her forte, she just always knew, how she had known her parents would have been happier separated than staying together.

She understood that her strongest point also was her weakest point. She had let the so many things pass away through her fingers just because she knew how outcome would be, and what's the point of taking a risk when you know everything?

Unknown might be thrilling, but with routine there was security, the feeling of knowing everything was how it was supposed to be.

God, she had been a coward as much as Harvey. No wonder it took her almost going to jail to pass through that thick cocoon of safety web that they had weaved around themselves, secure and unreachable behind the boundaries they had set themselves behind.

And some people were made to push the boundaries. "Ms. Paulsen," she heard Elias utter her name in that soft but certain way from her back, his voice barely above a whispered rasp. She had gathered long before it was a trick of the man, to get other closer to him to understand what he was saying, either to intimidate or simply to be intimate. He was a clever man, manipulative and devious, yes, but also clever. Holding a sigh, she turned to the lawyer.

"Mr. Elias," she said, looking at him straight in the eyes, "I'm really, really flattered by your offer and your insistence, but the answer is still no."

When he spoke the next she had already turned and started walking away, but his question had her steps falter. "Why?"

"Why?" she repeated the question, turning back, "Are you really asking me why?" She shook her head. "You must have known why I left Pearson Specter Litt."

He didn't try to play oblivious, but nodded in agreement, before she said, words thoughtful in its slow flow, "Truthfully, I was hoping you would separate your personal life from work, Ms. Paulsen."

She smiled, almost bitterly. If only the world would have been that easy. "I thought I could have done that, I wouldn't have quit at the first place."

"Ms. Paulsen, this isn't between Mr. Specter, you and me," he said back, "this is between you and me."

She shook her head. "He's involved too," she shot back then gave the man a quirk of lips, "And if you can't see that I'm not sure if I can work for someone who has so poor observation skills."

He accepted the defeat like a true gentleman. "Very well then," he said, nodding, "I wish you luck." He gave her a last look before he left, one clearly indicating that he thought she would need it.

For that one, there was no objection.


She still continued looking for a job, of course, even though the notion started to seem more impossible each day. For each candidate, Harvey managed to find a fault, sometimes logical, but mostly illogical. She knew what he was trying to, oh she knew it too well, but it wasn't getting her anywhere.

She threw the last paper down on the kitchen island where they sat at the opposite sides, and looked at him. "Okay, shoot me," she said, setting down her wine glass on the counter, "Why shouldn't I work for him?" she asked, her eyes skipped toward the paper from where the managing partner of Jackson Reese was looking at them with a grimace and a bad comb-over.

His forefinger pointed his photo before he exclaimed, "His hair!" He shook his head with a vehement vigor as he put down his own glass to, "Look at his hair!"

She couldn't believe her ears. She had the words, but still couldn't believe it. "His hair?!" she repeated, leaning forward, incredulity dripping from each word.

He took the white paper up, and shook it at her face. "Look at it," he said, still waving it, "the last man who thinks this's the new look is already dust and earth." He put the photo down, "You can't work for someone who combs his hair like that," and finished with a finality that only got her more stupefied.

"You're unbelievable."

He gave her a smirk, picking up the wine glass. "I'm saving you from an imminent death from boredom." Looking at her eyes, he took a content sip from the glass, clearly enjoying himself. "You can thank me later."

"I guess for that I should have just accepted Elias's offer," she muttered, shaking her head.

His hand stopped in the midair. "What?"

Then she sobered. Taking an inch back, she shook her head. "Nothing."

But he didn't buy it. Not of course. "He—he asked you to be his assistant?" he asked, his voice suddenly losing that satisfied tone, instead turning into a rasp.

She threw at her hands aside, lifting her shoulders, forcing her lips into a tight smile. "Can you blame him?"

Ignoring her retort, he jumped down from his stool. "That son of a bitch," he muttered angrily, "This time he's gone far too much. Far too much."

She jumped off too. "For what?" she walked to him, "For offering me a job?"

He turned to her. "He did on purpose!" he shouted, walking to her closer, "just to spite me."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Oh my god, you really think that he did it just because of you."

He pointed his hand at her. "That wasn't what I said."

"But it was what you meant," she shot back.

"Donna, don't twist my word," he said, his tone edging into a warning.

But she didn't heed it, instead looked at him in challenge. "Then say clearly what you meant."

"I meant he knows you're my soft spot," he hissed at her face, his arms grabbing at her upper arms, "and he's using it against me."

Shaking her head, she struggled out of his grip, her eyes widening with disbelief. "God, you really think the whole world revolves around you, do you?" she tilted her head aside, "Elias offered me the job to get you—Stephen asked me out-"

His voice boomed in the condo, cutting her words, "Don't mention that name to me. Just don't."

She arched her eyebrow, not giving an inch. "Why? Don't you think he asked me out because of you," she pressed in, "come on, admit it, Harvey."

"You're being ridiculous."

She threw her hands in the air. "Am I being ridiculous?" she yelled, "For goodness sake, you just told me I shouldn't work with a man just because he has bad hair?!"

His hand pointed at the kitchen island, "That was different."

"No, it wasn't," she said in defiance, "It's always something with you. This has bad hair, that has a bad reputation. Elias is your rival, and another would turn to a rival..." she shook her head again, listing off every defense he had raised up over the weeks for each of her potential bosses, "Do I need to find the absolutely worst lawyer in all New York to get you feel okay with my new boss?" She shook her hands with agitation, her voice rising with each word, "How I am supposed to work like this?"

His voice rose too to match hers, "You're not even supposed to work like this!" He walked in on her, his eyes firing brighter, "Goddamn, Donna, you're not supposed to work with anyone but ME."

"That's not an option!"

"Why?" he yelled.

Out of breath, she stopped and looked at him, tears pricking her eyes at the edges. She bit her inner cheek to keep them at bay. "Because," she said, her voice dropping because she suddenly found herself not having enough energy to raise her voice, "Because you have everything and I just pick up your leftovers."

In sudden silence, he looked at her, his eyes narrowing, as his anger fading, leaving its place to a confusion that had the crease between his eyebrows deepen. "Donna—" he whispered her name, walking closer, "Donna—" he repeated, taking a hold of her forearm.

As if the contact burned her skin, she pulled her arm back, shaking her head, tears breaking over. She could keep them inside her no longer, much like how she couldn't keep the words inside her any longer. He took a step forward. She took one backwards. "I'm sorry," she said, still shaking her head, then she rushed to the door.


All right, guys, I'm shocked that some of you thought that I would make Donna accept Elias's offer, at least in this stage of things. :) So don't worry, as this isn't a long story, I try to keep things as a character study, mostly for Donna, and my main aim to get her and Harvey see how unhealthy relationships they used to be having, before they accepted the truth and moved on to their new life. That being said, as you can imagine, this is about to finish. I'll try to wrap things up with the next chapter. The next weekend.

Be seeing you.