The Rupture

The ability to read people is one of the most valued skills in business. Understanding people's actions to predict reactions; noticing behavioral patterns; analyzing body language, whether it offers resistance from crossed arms or shows anger through clenched jaws: Emotions feed thoughts and drive decisions. So being able to see, absorb and anticipate a brawl, an uncomfortable situation or a real acceptance smile gives you a better chance to prevent what is coming.

But it's still just a chance.

She had seconds to scan the scene in front of her, at the same time that she needed to ease her own breath. She could taste the dryness in her mouth, could even feel her nostrils flaring as she struggled to exhale slowly. Her eyes immediately skipped to see Harvey's confusion through his furrowed brows, and his slightly inflated chest at the mere presence of another man was hard to ignore. Then she diverted her look to the man already inside her office, his steady walk and straight posture were threatening, his chin lifted a bit higher than usual, to match Harvey's height, she thought, all showing he was confident and wasn't really there to have a drink for old time's sake.

Reasoning only gave her two choices. Although she desperately wished Harvey had been as into their previous moment as she was, therefore distracted enough not to hear the man call her by that name, or even her response, she could already see the questions on his face. She could try to smile, fake a casual tone, ask Harvey to excuse them and find a conference room as fast as possible. Or she could make use of Harvey's presence and wish for him to inhibit the visitor, to force the man to measure any harsh words and spare her from humiliation. If she were honest with herself, this was a lucky way out considering Harvey sure knew how to intimidate. The sense of protection Harvey had for her was always a given, even at times of clouded judgement and heavy internal struggles, he had taken her over anyone else.

Both options were far from ideal. In a nightmare situation when your past knocks on your door and your two completely different lives align, any predicted outcome would carry her worst fears. No matter what she did, nothing good was going to come out of this room, she saw it a second later, and the realization fogged her mind.

"I have to say I'm impressed," the man nodded as he approached her desk, Harvey's eyes moving between him and Donna. " None of you ever made it this far. But I knew you were special from day one."

She swallowed the knot in her throat and forced a smile, tightening her stomach to stop her body from shaking.

"Mr. Riggs," you goddamn asshole, she mentally added. "Long time no see. I have to say I'm also surprised to see you showing up at my office unannounced," she stroke back, the last word coming out slower than the rest. But her tone was contrived, dry and unlike herself. She could still hear her own heartbeat, two headache points immediately pulsing on her temples. Shit.

"Harvey Specter," he announced himself, extending his hand. Always making the first move, always on the offense.

"John Riggs," the man added, shaking Harvey's hand.

Donna watched their hands join and time stood still, as if the past 20 years flew over at the speed of light and reached the present she so carefully built, right there in her office. A firm handshake was the only thing Harvey could do to claim his space, at least for now. He had no information, his eyes pointlessly searched for an explanation or a connection he might be missing. Did he call her Scarlet? Who the hell is this guy? "You two know each other?" was the question he verbalized, signaling between Donna and John, and before John could say another damaging word, she tried one of the exits.

"Mr. Riggs and I go way back. In fact, Harvey, if you don't mind, why don't you go ahead and find Mike and Rachel, that way we can quickly...catch up," she cleared her throat. "I'll meet you soon."

It should have worked, every ounce in her wished it did, even with Harvey's eyes once again piercing at her, letting her know he was curious to say the least, worried as usual and even jealous, she could see it, he was ready to take her suggestion. You go way back? He was about to ask before leaving, but wasn't fast enough.

"Well, Donna..." John chuckled, ruining her plan. "Sorry, I have to get used to calling you that. I am actually here to see you AND Harvey, because as proud as I am that a, uh, dancer made it this far, you're not a lawyer."

She stared at John, hoping he'd see the plea in her eyes. Please don't do this. Please leave.

Harvey's focus shifted back to her and suddenly it felt like John wasn't even in the room. Their eyes locked and she froze watching the sweetness of just moments ago begin to fade. Dancer? Such a simple noun that lingered in the air ready to expose a reality buried six feet under. It wouldn't be long until Harvey put all the puzzle pieces together, she saw his face slowly changing into a scowl, yet the corners of his mouth refused to give in, half smiling at her, letting her know he was there, still her mighty savior, she only needed to say the word and he'd take care of this. The inkling of what was about to happen made her start feeling lightheaded. Her blood pressure was dropping, she knew. Too long without eating, stress rising fast, fear of loss taking control.

"Of course you need a lawyer," she managed to break the silence. "Thing is, Harvey is a busy man and we were just about leaving anyway. But like I said, why don't we go in another room and I'll quickly make a phone call, get you one of our best associates and this way…"

"I said I need Harvey to take my business," John interrupted, altering his tone towards her. Patience wasn't his forte, and it wasn't Harvey's either. "And why is that, Mr. Riggs?" Harvey questioned even louder, turning his body completely to the visitor, standing tall in a way he could block Donna out of this conversation if he had to. Watch that tone.

"Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Specter. You're lawyer of the decade after all," he added nonchalantly. "But that's not all. You see…" John continued, pulling a copy of each magazine from his briefcase and tossing them on Donna's desk. "When my daughter said Harvey Specter had practically re-ques-ted that the profile on the COO of his firm needed to be written, I found that to be...interesting, since I had just found out who said COO was. So I read such interview, read both of them, and my daughter innocently showed me her notes on your own interview, Mr. Specter, and how you cited Donna's name dozens of times, which I'm sure was the same case with you, Donna. It was clear to me then that your connection...was quite strong," he grinned, hand extended to the open pages, Harvey's article's author reading Jen Riggs. On Donna's, one highlighted sentence, that her and Harvey had been working together for 13 years going through thick and thin, served as the strike of a match to light the fire.

She let her head down as she leaned forward on her desk, she knew she shouldn't have done so, but the weakness was overwhelming as a sting on her heart forced her to hide her face.

"I was coming for you for help anyway, Scarlet, realizing Specter came with it was just that hundred dollar bill at the end of the night, if you know what I mean."

You learn how to read people by observing people. The more you meet, the more you watch, the more you classify them into files of characters in your mind. She wasn't the only one in that room who could read every trace of personality and every faltering behavior people struggled not to show. Donna knew that she had been read from head to toes for the mere minutes he'd been in her office. Like a wild predator he could sense her fear, retract her to a corner as a helpless prey because her panic was pouring through every pore. She wasn't afraid of him, it wasn't that. She was afraid of Harvey. Afraid of Harvey finding out the truth.

"What do you want?" she asked again, opening Pandora's box.

"I want to buy out a competitor. The relevant one anyway. And I don't want to pay that much. Atlas casino resort, that's mine…"

"I'm familiar," Harvey interrupted. "Been there before. And let me guess, you want Empire?"

"Wrong," John added. "I think big, Harvey. I want World resort."

Harvey chuckled, the idea too ridiculous for him to even entertain it. "You're out of your mind if you think the SEC would allow for a merger that big," he mocked. "I doubt even the state of NY would."

"Which is why I came to the lawyer of the decade and Specter Litt's esteemed COO," John shrugged.

She knew this wasn't a compliment. It was a threat and her chance to avoid it was slipping through her fingers.

"We'll look into it," she risked, trying to buy herself some time.

"No, we won't. Are you serious right now?" Harvey scowled at her.

"You will," John began, placing his briefcase on the back of the chair for support.

"Listen, there's no coherence to this deal, I guarantee you any firm…" Harvey interrupted, his tolerance for ignorant CEOs was minimal, this was a waste of time.

"You'll do what you have to do to get it approved. Or this goes to every dirty tabloid in the tri-state area," John said retrieving an envelope and holding it up.

Harvey moved to grab it, but John pulled it away quickly.

"Cut the shit, Riggs, If you have something, you let me see it. I'm not going in blind on this," he ordered, his hand extended once again, this time in a much less welcoming gesture.

"This isn't a bluff, Harvey. I'm just waiting to see if Donna wants me to show you her past, or if she wants to do that herself?!" He didn't wait for a formal response, it was his last line of the night and it felt like it was being spilled on them like cement on a sidewalk, about to permanently cover every scratch of their story.

John handed Donna the envelope and tossed his card on her desk, nodding to Harvey and walking away from her office.

As she struggled to hold the envelope, her hands shaking and her lips trembling, Harvey walked close to her, watching her face fall and the tears prickle her eyes.

"Donna, what's going on?" he said, his voice a scared whispered forced out of his throat. "Gimme the envelope."

Not a single sound was heard on the entire floor, not a single thing moved besides the slight side to side sway of her head.

In a swift move, he ripped it out of her hands, Donna letting out a loud gasp in surprise: "Stop!"

He needed one picture, only one look at her practically topless, legs wrapped on a pole, the black lacy thong thinner than the heels she wore. Worse than the outfit, or lack thereof, was to see her head falling backwards as the tip of her long hair brushed her ass, red lips wet with pleasure, eyes wide shut and a smile showing her curled tongue.

He'd seen that face before, 13 years ago, on her bed.

He felt the bile in his stomach rise unexpectedly fast, forcing him to lean over the garbage can, one hand holding it and the other covering his mouth to stop himself from retching, envelope falling on the floor revealing dozens of pictures.

"I can explain," she blurted out against any reasoning in her that knew not a single word she said would matter. "Harvey please."

She watched as he loosened his tie, pulled on his collar trying to breathe, sweat drops starting to appear on his forehead. She could see his chest moving as if he had just ran a 5K, the color fading from his face.

"I was 20 years old and I was desperate," she began, taking a deep breath. "I only had acting gigs, and I needed to pay rent, loans, food, costumes..."

The memory filled her eyes and she didn't care that the tears now fell freely. She stood close to him, Harvey bent over the garbage can, arms holding the object as he tried to steady himself.

"I only did it for a short time, and from the first night all I thought about was how much I wanted to leave, how much I hated it…"

She knew she was rambling in a desperate tone and he didn't let her finish. Nothing could have ever prepared her for the wrath that followed that moment. Before she could add another vowel, Harvey picked up the garbage can and his pitcher arm threw it in what felt like a 90 mile per hour curveball, freezing her on the spot as she watched the glass door shatter, every bit of her name and Chief Operating Officer title broken into hundreds of pieces.

"Liar!" he screamed at her. "That is not the face of someone who is hating to shake her ass for a living, you goddamn liar!"

His voice was somehow louder than the whole glass door breaking. Loud enough to send Mike and Rachel running in a panic from the elevator.

She was in shock. She couldn't move. Her breathing was ragged and she could practically feel life leave her body as he walked to her, grabbing her arms. His eyes were shot red and she could see he was broken, the devastation sprawled on every line of his face.

"How could you...do that? When were you gonna tell me, huh? Never?" his voice was hoarse as he talked inches away from her face. "Is that where you rule comes from? Because you fucked for money, so you can't mix the two anymore?"

She turned to look to his right hand as his fingers pressed onto her pale skin, a quiet moan followed by tears. His words hurt more than her arms, sadness took over as she realized how, just earlier today, she imagined him touching her in many ways, couldn't wait to feel his hands on her. Except this way.

He pulled away immediately as he realized his actions, clenching his fists and for a second he thought of apologizing, unsure if he had hurt her, but the pictures on the floor brought the hatred back faster than his heart skipped a beat. He didn't know what to do. He thought he was going to get sick again, right there on top of the photos. Harvey wanted her to talk, to say it wasn't her on every single one of those goddamn pictures, he wanted her to say she had not made that face for money.

He sat on the chair further from her,, elbows resting on his legs and face between his hands as he tried to control his mind, tried to not let the angried panic attack blind him again. As he closed his eyes, all he could see was her being touched, being paid, being desired, how they could easily have her and the thoughts turned him inside out. His pride and masculinity hurt, suddenly he wanted her to look at him, he wanted to push her against the wall and kiss her passionately, to hear her wince with pleasure that he was responsible for, to make sure that night on her bed had been real. As he stood up, Mike's voice startled him.

"What the hell is going on here?" he said as he stood staring at the glass. "Harvey, what did you do?"

Rachel spotted the pictures first, the trail leading her to Donna standing on a corner by the shelf, shaking like a bamboo tree in a whirlwind as tears streamed down her face. She didn't need any of them to answer Mike's questions. Ignoring the glass on the floor, she stepped over it towards Donna, and as Harvey began to follow, she turned to him, finger pointed at his face as her tone of voice came out shaky, but threatening.

"Don't!" she said, her lips trembling. "Don't you dare take another step toward her, Harvey!"

His impulse halted at her threat, bringing him to reality.

"Take a walk, Harvey!" it was Mike who yelled next, and as Harvey left her office, Donna collapsed in sobs in Rachel's arms.

Harvey's sense of protection towards her was always a given. Unless loyalty was at stake.