Chapter Two: 3:30 is Not a Good Time for Visitors
'Michael! What are you doing boy?!"
Mike Ross jumped about a foot in the air. The book he was reading fell to the floor making a loud noise as it hit the ground. That was pretty ironic considering the book was Terry Pratchett's book 'Thud!' Now however was not the time to appreciate the humour in that sentence. Mr Goodwin was approaching him the way a predator sneaks up on their prey. He didn't look happy. Then again Mr Goodwin never did.
"Reading a book." Mike replied. He couldn't help the patronising tone of his voice. He was never one for self-preservation and it was quite obvious what he was doing. The harsh slap to his cheek was expected as was the metallic taste of blood.
"Don't talk to me in the ungrateful tone boy!" Mr Goodwin bellowed.
"Sorry, Sir. I am reading a book, sir." Mike replied much more respectfully.
"Oh, you will be sorry, very sorry, boy. I will not have a disrespectful wimp in my house!" Mr Goodwin began to unbuckle his belt and Mike who had barely recovered from last night's 'lesson' turned as white as chalk.
"No sir. Please. I'm sorry don't hit me, sir." Mike begged though he knew it was no use. He was right.
Mr Goodwin made him remove his shirt. Then he grabbed his arm and shoved him harshly to the floor. The first CRACK was always the worst. It was so loud he expected someone to hear and come and rescue him. But they never did.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson you'll never forget!"
No. Mike would never forget. That's the curse of the eidetic memory. You never forget.
"No! Please!"
Mike woke up. He was drenched in sweat as if he had just run a marathon. He suddenly became aware of someone knocking on his door. No. Scratch that- some was pounding on his door. Mike glanced towards the clock he kept on his bedside table. 3 am. He groaned. No doubt his 3:30 am visitor was an angry neighbour coming to complain to Mike about the noise. That was just what he needed right now.
As it turned out it wasn't an angry neighbour but Harvey godman Specter.
"Harvey. What the hell are you doing here?"
"It's about time you answered your door."
"It's half 3 in the morning, Harvey. Why are you here?" Mike asked again. Someone needed to teach his boss about personal boundaries. Now was not the time for visitors.
"I needed to talk to you, and you weren't answering your phone." Harvey explained. Apparently, the older man didn't care much about sleep. That was to be expected to be honest.
"Can't it wait until morning?" Mike demanded.
"It is the morning." Harvey pointed out.
"It's an ungodly hour of the morning. Can't it at least wait until the sun says hello?"
"Are you going to let me in or are we going to talk about you on the doorstep?"
"We're not going to talk about me." Mike responded but let Harvey in any way. The quicker his boss got to the point of his visit, the quicker Mike could get him the leave and the quicker he could have the precious hours of sleep until he had to get up again.
Harvey inspected his flat with an appraising eye.
"This place is not bad. It's not the Ritz but it's not bad." Harvey commented.
"There's no place like home." Mike agreed. It dragged out a very un-Harvey like snot in his boss.
"The Wizard of Oz seriously, Mike?"
Mike gave no response to that. It was too early, and he was too tired to engage in their usual movie banter.
No sure- go ahead - make yourself at home' He thought to himself but didn't say it. He knew that Harvey wouldn't hit him if he did, but he couldn't help feeling a little scared. Ok, a lot scared by the way his pulse raced.
"So, What's going on with you?" Harvey demanded.
Mike was silent for a few minutes trying to think of how to reply. His primary goal was to get Harvey to leave - without phoning the police. It would seem that that could only be achieved by answering his questions. He really didn't want to get into this. Not here. Not now. Not with Harvey.
"Look while I appreciate your concern it is really unfounded. I am fine."
"You are not fine. You are pale, sweaty and you have bags under your eyes. You haven't been sleeping."
Mike laughed at that.
"What's so funny?" Harvey asked him.
"You're coming and wake me up to comment on how much sleep I'm getting? Maybe my problem is that my boss is a dick who likes to wake people up at ungodly hours! Maybe, just maybe, if you actually leave me the hell alone I might actually get some sleep!"
"Fine. We'll talk about this later. But make no mistake we are talking about it!"
Mike watched as Harvey stormed out of his flat, slamming the door with unnecessary vigour. Great. Tomorrow was going to be just fantastic.
Thankfully, Mike managed to get some more sleep. It meant that when we got up that morning he could actually balance on his bike without falling off. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't often late. In fact, Mike usually got there earlier than anyone else aside from the odd security guard or cleaner. He liked getting to the firm that early. It meant it was quiet. The calmness of the early morning was comforting for someone like Mike whose thoughts raced around his head at about a hundred miles an hour. It gave him time to organise his thoughts and catch up on the last bits of paper before the hustle and bustle of the workday began and the office filled with the sound of voices and footsteps. All that background clatter could often overwhelm his brain, so he basked in the quietness the morning brought him.
Unfortunately, today was not one of those days. He had been far too tired to get up early enough and Mike was sure that if he'd slept in any more he would have been late. That, of course, was a big no-no in Harvey Specter's list of Rules that Only Applied to Mike. By the time he had stepped off the lift, it had been almost 7:30. Also, further adding to his misfortune, Louis immediately came up to him. This was just perfect. Really it was too early in the morning to be dealing with Louis Litt. Though in Mike's opinion any time was too either too early or too late to talk to the self-dubbed 'King of the Asscocciates' (it was a name none of them called them instead he was the 'Asshole of the Associates'. It was one of the many creative nicknames they'd given Louis and was one that Mike himself had come up with. He was rather proud of it.
"Ross. Where are my files?"
Mike groaned. "I gave them to your secretary because when I went to your office you were gone. She muttered something about a cat called Bruno needing de-worming and took them from my hand." He acted like he had no idea who Bruno was. Of course, he knew who Bruno was. Everyone in the office knew who Bruno was. It was fun to pretend otherwise.
"God damn it, Norma. I told her not to tell anyone about Bruno. He's very sensitive. Are you sure you gave her those files?"
"Yes, Louis I am sure. Can I get back to work now?"
Louis eyed him sceptically before handing him a stack of files.
"Get this to me by 12." He ordered.
Mike was about the protest went the files were taken from his hand and passed back to Louis. He turned his head to see Harvey standing there with the usual smirk he had on his face when messing with Louis.
"Louis. How's your wife?" He asked politely "I know. You're not married. It's still funny. Get someone else to do your work, Louis. Mike is busy and he is my associate."
"And I am in charge of all of the associates which means-"
"That I don't give a shit. Go bother someone else. Unless of course, you want to tell Jessica that your work supersedes her favourite client."
Louis was not stupid enough to tell Jessica that. So, after casting a glare at the two of them that promised petty revenge he stormed off. After a few seconds, they could hear his accosting another associate and demanding they did what he said.
Harvey smiled. He always enjoyed getting one up one Louis. It was great fun. Mike however was not looking forward to the fallout. Louis was well Louis. He could be unpredictable - threatening his job one time and taking him mudding the next. He didn't have time to dwell on that now because Harvey was forcing him to follow him to his office where they were going to have that chat he started at three-thirty in the fucking morning.