5. All Out War
Donna's fingers fly over her keyboard, eyes fixed on the monitor of her laptop when the door to her office whooshes open. Unless she specifically asks not to be disturbed, Zoey is free to walk straight in, an arrangement they agreed to in the beginning. It's more efficient and why she leaves the intercom on. Keeping her assistant in the loop means there are no miscommunications, allowing the woman to stay on top of everything, just like she's doing now.
Donna reaches for the bright blue booklet Zoey sets down, her manicured nails dragging it across the marble desk toward her, and she picks it up, flicking through the information. It's exactly what she wanted. A hard copy version of her proposal for Collin and her assistant pulled it together perfectly. "This is great work, Zoey."
"One of my many talents," she grins, ringing her hands. "You should see what I can do with macaroni and paint."
"I'm afraid to ask," Donna smirks, placing the document on-top of her notes. She still has time before her meeting and is about to suggest they grab a coffee from the kitchen, when her phone lights up and 'Harvey Specter' flashes across the screen. She hesitates, fighting the instinct to reach for it. They have spoken since the wedding and their impromptu decision to go for burgers.
It was... nice.
They'd talked, chatted for hours like nothing had really changed, but the sobering light of the next day had hit hard. What were they going to do, go out for dinners, sneak midnight rendezvous? She didn't have an answer two weeks ago, and she doesn't have one now either.
"I'll let you take that," Zoey clears her throat, urging her boss to answer. She wasn't prying, but she did do some googling before Donna started, and the hot-shot lawyer's name had come up several times, splashed across new sites. She's more than a little curious, especially since he's never called here before. If he had, she would have been privy to the conversation, and she makes her way back to her cubicle, sinking down into her chair, and frowning when the light from her intercom blinks off.
Donna deliberately ignores the look of protest she can feel being directed through the glass. Harvey could be calling for any number of reasons, and if they're not personal, there's every chance they're not exactly legal either. God knows he has a knack for getting himself into trouble and she might even be doing Zoey a favor by keeping her in the dark. But whatever the reason is, there's only one way to know for sure, and she slides her thumb across the device, bringing it up to her ear. "Harvey," she answers, swallowing his name and waiting to hear what he has to say.
"Hey..." he starts, the sound of her voice abruptly stalling the fast shuffle of his feet. Truthfully, he'd thought she wasn't going to pick up, and feels a rush of relief, but it quickly fades beneath a churn of guilt. He didn't want to lead with a problem, embarrassed by the all out war he created with David Fox. But like the firm's cleaning lady, Anna, had told him, pride has no place when it comes to caring, and he turns to the darkened skyline visible from his office. "I think I did something stupid, Donna."
There's defeat in the low sigh he exhales, and she doesn't doubt the claim. He's the best at what he does but still makes mistakes, he just rarely admits to them. "Do you want me to confirm or deny it?" she asks, wondering what he's expecting her to do. It's not her job to bail him out anymore, and 'friends' doesn't land right yet, either.
His palm flattens against the display unit, the weight of her absence pressing on his shoulders. If she were standing in front of him he'd roll his eyes, knowing she'd have his back in spite of everything, but she isn't, and a knot winds in his throat.
She can sense the shift, the way his breathing quickens with a rasp, and she sits up a little straighter. She doesn't need to see his face. Years of reading him has imprinted all his reactions in her memory, and she pulls her lip between her teeth, worry settling over her resolve to stay impartial. "How bad?"
He flexes his elbow, the familiar softness drawing him back to the present. "It's not great," he concedes, though in terms of how screwed the firm is, things could be worse. All he has to do is walk away and the issue becomes null and void. But he'd made a promise to Anna. He's not about to go back on his word, even if no one's standing in his corner. He just needs to get his shit together or everyone's going to suffer the consequences. "I took a case. The firm's cleaning lady wasn't being paid overtime. I said I'd look into it and things... got out of hand."
As COO she'd dealt with the building's landlord, albeit briefly, but she's instantly able to make the connection. The cleaning staff are leased through the landlord's domain, and it's not a huge leap to put two and two together. "You went to war with David Fox."
His eyes close of their own accord, not because she's right, but because he's missed the way she knows him. He's never had to explain anything, and for once he doesn't get defensive, coming straight out with a confession. "I did."
She nods slowly, mulling over what the action could mean for the firm, but also confused by why he would go up against the real estate developer over a pay dispute. It's completely out of character, and she can only think of two reasons; that he'd made a commitment without thinking it through, and he's emotionally invested in it. Emotional because he's missing Mike. The reason for his behavior clicks into place with sudden clarity, but he's going the wrong way about compensating for his feelings. What he should be doing is throwing himself at cases he knows in and out, not floundering in new territory. "Harvey, you need to take this to the clinic."
"I tried that already." It had taken far too long to reach the conclusion on his own, but Robert siding with Louis and coming down on him like a tonne of bricks had forced his hand. He'd made the journey, but had hesitated at the hundreds of case files stacked high amidst the overrun chaos. He couldn't just dump Anna on someone's yielding pile so he'd turned right back around. "Nathan and Oliver weren't there, nobody else had the time or resources to care about her like I needed them to."
"You mean, Mike wasn't there," she objects, trying to make him see the problem for what it is. Obviously he's invested, and she's not faulting him for wanting to do the right thing, but if he's not careful, he's going to lose, and that's not a fear she's had for him in a long time. "Harvey, this case has Mike Ross written all over it, and it's okay to miss him. But the reason Mike left was because he came to terms with the fact that what you're doing right now, isn't what the firm does," she tries to let him down gently, hearing his sharp intake of his breath in response.
"What am I supposed to do, Donna? Because this woman needs help, and I made her a promise," he doesn't mean to direct his frustration at her, but being faced with the truth isn't making him any more equipped to deal with the situation. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place and can't see a way to break through either side .
"I can't answer that for you, Harvey." She isn't intentionally being dismissive, and wants to support him where she can, but is also wary of involving herself. If he was serious about wanting her in his life then it can't be in the same capacity as before. He needs to realize she's not just here to step in and save him from himself, and she has to learn to put distance between them and his mistakes.
"Donna—" his voice cracks, the heaviness of her silence suffocating, but he swallows the plea, realizing how fragile the bridge between them still is. If he moves across it too fast, the whole thing could crumble and he doesn't want that. He needs to know she's going to be on the other end of the line when he calls, even if it's just so he can hear her voice. "Okay."
The resignation in his tone is hard for her too. Saying no to him has always been difficult, but she'd been wondering how a friendship between them would work, and maybe starting on new foundations is the answer. But that doesn't mean she can't still give him advice. "There is someone who might have a few ideas."
Mike. The unspoken suggestion eases the pressure in his chest, the soft delivery washing over him. He isn't sure what the rules are here, and the lines seem more blurred to him now than they ever were before, but she's spent years putting his needs first. If he has to navigate a new dynamic to prove he's willing to do the same for her, he will. So long as it means she's not going anywhere.
"I'll call him—" he takes a breath, hesitating for a beat, "but before I do, you wanna grab a coffee? No work talk, I promise."
She can picture the subtle lift of his lips and knows what he's doing. He's dialing things back and playing them down because he thinks that's what she wants, but it isn't. What they both need is time, to figure things out so they don't go rushing into something that's going to lead them straight back to square one. "Not today, Harvey." She glances at the binder on her desk, tempted to use the meeting as an excuse, but even without the impending deadline her decision would be the same, and pretending otherwise would be a lie. "Let me know how it all turns out, okay?"
He swallows thickly, the rejection stinging, but he pushes the hurt down, clearing his throat. "Yeah, sure."
The silence hangs, signalling an end to the conversation, and she lets him be the one to hang up, bringing the phone down with a sigh. She'd promised Rachel she was going to keep putting herself first and that's what she's doing. She's not going to risk getting hurt again, and steals a moment before switching the intercom back on, a weak excuse falling from her lips. "Sorry, hand must have slipped."
Her assistant rolls her eyes through the glass, and Donna relaxes, knowing how lucky she is to have Zoey on her desk. The woman has a keen sense for when to push or leave things alone, and Harvey Specter is a can of worms she definitely doesn't want to open in front of the inquisitive blonde, or anyone at the company for that matter. She'd been hired on her own merits, and she uses the boost of confidence to propel her up, grabbing her proposal off the desk.
Zoey lifts her head again when the door to Donna's office swings whooses, her mouth twisting with a wry smile.
"Not a word," Donna adds for good measure, leaving all thoughts of Harvey behind her. She needs to be focused on her current employer, and she moves swiftly to the elevators, checking her reflection in the metallic gleam. She'd deliberately chosen a high neck peplum dress with cap-sleeves, conservative yet powerful, and even though she's loath to let a man dictate her style in any way, she wants to make it clear to Collin her only interest in dealing with him is a professional one.
The car is empty when it arrives and she steps in, hitting the button to take her up, squaring her shoulders as she exits, this time treading her way to the meeting room she had Zoey book out. After her last encounter with the director a neutral space seemed more appropriate, and she's surprised to find him already waiting, though his attention doesn't lift from his laptop when she crosses over the threshold. She isn't late and doesn't second guess herself by double checking. Instead, she closes the door, forcing a smile onto her lips. "Sorry to have kept you waiting." Her mother always told her catching bees with honey should be a first approach, and if that failed, hire a bloody exterminator. Something she wishes she could do when Collin glances over his screen wearing a tepid smirk.
"I'm sure whatever you have for me, it was worth the wait." He folds the lid of the computer down, showering her with his full attention. After their last encounter he'd found himself doing a little research of his own, intrigued by the woman who had seemingly sprouted up from nowhere. Although he'd been fed the basics when she'd first started, he'd dived in on a more personal level and has been looking forward to seeing what she really has to offer.
She slides the information Zoey had bound across the large table, and takes a seat opposite him, folding her hands loosely in her lap. She knows for a fact he prefers the old-school approach to filing because the shelves in his office had been lined with paper documents and manuals, another reason she'd resorted to hard-copy and not just a digital document.
He raises an eyebrow, skimming the color-coded table of contents. He's surprised but not necessarily impressed. A five-year-old can dress up a document with a couple of highlighters, it's not exactly a skill, but he makes a show of flicking through the pages, keeping his opinion vague. "I can see you've put a lot of effort into this."
The remark comes across as patronising, but she doesn't let it phase her. It's a negotiation not a battlefield. They're here to discuss the ideas, make compromises around an implementation strategy, and she's willing to listen to what he has to say so long as he pays her the courtesy. "I thought we could start by—"
"These statistics are out of date," he nitpicks the first graph his eyes fall across, well aware it's not unusual for a business plan to date back a few years, but while the arc of productivity may have risen in that time, they're living in an economy that can't afford the risk of a sudden down-trend.
"They're still relevant as a guideline," she keeps her tone even, refusing to let him dismiss the suggestions without even reading through them properly. "If you turn back to the capitol and gain—"
"You were COO at your last job, a law firm, correct?" he interjects, flipping closed the booklet and setting it down, running his gaze back up the modest lines of her dress.
A shiver crawls along her spine but she doesn't react to it, focusing her where he's trying to lead her with the question. "I was, yes."
There's no defensiveness behind the answer, leading him to the assumption she's fine with his perusal and he cocks his head to the side, wondering if the subdued outfit is her way of playing hard to get. "Tell me, how long were you in the role again?"
"Long enough to know that's not really what you want to ask me," she challenges, done with playing coy. If he has a problem with her experience, she'll happily walk him through the processes she went through, including hours spent pouring over S&P's previous modules, and meeting with two other department heads to get their feedback. It might be a new role to her, but S&P hired her for a reason, one she suspects he couldn't give a damn about.
She's right, in a sense. He isn't interested in how long she held the title. After doing some digging, he'd rather know why NYC's famed bachelor, Harvey Specter, kept her around for so long. Although he can easily hazard a guess it has nothing to do with her secretarial proficiency. "I'm curious how an actress making a living as a temp, with no law degree, somehow became the COO of a law firm."
If he'd bothered to do more than glance at her proposal, he'd damn well know why, but she isn't intimidated by the insinuation. Maybe an average person could accomplish what she did, but that's even more reason to be proud of her accomplishments, she has no shame in hiding them. "I worked my ass off, and I'm brilliant at what I do. That's how I became COO and it's why I was hired."
"And what is it exactly that you do?" He can see her composure slipping, the faint color flushing against the deep blue collar of her dress, and can't help but picture how far south it spreads, sending a jolt to his growing arousal. He's fucked plenty of redhead's before, but there's something about her character, restrained yet daring, like she's just begging to be put in her place. "Why don't we skip the part where we pretend it's typing up reports, when I'm willing to bet those hands have far more talented skills. Or maybe I should call up Mr. Specter for a personal reference?"
Her blood boils at the mention of Harvey, her heart hammering loudly at the bold accusation, but what's worse is the assaulting flashes of the night they'd had sex filling her head. It only happened once, but it did happen, causing her to shift uncomfortably beneath the director's leering gaze, her skin itching like it's on fire. Just the thought of Collin finding out her history with Harvey makes her physically sick, and she pushes herself up onto shaky legs, stealing herself with a deep breath.
"My talents are in that folder," she points to the proposal, firming her jaw with a hard glare. "Trust me when I say that's as close as you're ever getting to them."
She doesn't wait for his response, too angry as she swings the door open, not caring when several pairs of eyes snap her way.
She can't be the first woman who's ever publically stormed out on the asshole, and she ignores the attention, striding as fast as she can to get away from their prying. When she reaches the elevator she hits the button with the heel of her palm, forcing herself to take several deep breaths, but she still feels suffocated when the cart arrives and she sends it straight down bypassing her level. She doesn't want Zoey to see her worked up or to think she can't handle Collin and his smarmy, misogynistic attitude.
She can, she just needs a minute, and doesn't care that the temperature is minuses when she leaves the building, stepping into the biting wind without a coat.
Storming out was a mistake. She shouldn't have let her emotions get the better of her but as soon as he'd mentioned Harvey, the proverbial can of worms she'd been hoping to avoid had blown up right in her face, making it seem like she has something to hide. Which she doesn't. Sleeping together was a one time thing and the impulsive kiss she'd planted on him had been a mistake.
She'd earned her job through every single painstaking case and trial, but the most important thing she's learnt over the years isn't on her resume; it's how to win a goddamn war.
And unlike Harvey, she knows exactly what her motivation is; to show Collin goddamn Pullman that a woman can do his job, and do it better.