Title: Chance Meetings
Author: Razorbackgal0225
Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all...for now
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.
Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews and alerts! That kind of response does cause me to write a little faster. I hope you enjoy!
The Third Time
The third time, in my mind, should have counted for fifteen separate encounters with him. A couple of weeks after completing his oh so important assignment, my boss asked me deliver a 'for your eyes only' report to the law firm of Pearson Hardman. Normally I would have been a little offended at being asked to play delivery girl, but Mr. Matthews had been kind enough to say that if I took the report, I could then leave for the day. Since I had been working 60 hours weeks for a month and it was 2:00 on a Friday, I jumped at the chance, even if it did mean that I might see him again. Before my boss or I had a chance to change our minds, I hopped in a cab and gave the driver the address.
I tried to concentrate specifically on the fact that I was getting an afternoon off as I rode in the elevator up to the Pearson Hardman floor. I emphasize tried, because it didn't work. While I was looking forward to an early start to the weekend, every few seconds that smirk would float through my mind's eye. The smirk still haunted me, even though I hadn't seen or talked to him since our second meeting. My reasonable, logical side was insisting that the chances of actually seeing him, as I was delivering the report to a Louis Litt, were slim; it was a fairly large law firm. He might be in a meeting or off wining and dining some important client and not even be in the building. Drowning out that voice of reason was the carefully hidden Southern belle who was screaming that it was fate that I was wearing my favorite suit and had just gotten my highlights touched up earlier in the week and that of course I was going to run into him. I was glad no one could hear my inner monologue as I exited onto the correct floor. I didn't think I would look particularly fetching in a straight jacket.
I spoke to a very nice receptionist who directed me to Mr. Litt's office. I wandered through the maze of offices and cubicles, reading the names on walls as I went by. I passed a very pretty girl who entered an office labeled Rachel Zane, Paralegal. Her office was bigger than the cubicles I walked by next, which housed what I immediately decided where a bunch of tools with larger than necessary egos, specifically the one who's name plate read Kyle something or other. I passed conference room after conference room, all glass walls and sleek furniture, until I finally reached my destination. I approached the assistant sitting outside Mr. Litt's office.
"Hi, I'm with Matthews and Phillips Accounting, I'm here to deliver this report to Mr. Litt," I said. The assistant looked up from her typing.
"Oh yes, the Sanders information. You can leave that with me and I'll see that he gets it," the older lady held out her hand. I gratefully gave up the report, thanked her and turned to make my way back out to the elevators.
After I passed the cubicle farm and most of the conference rooms, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was going to escape this visit unscathed and ready to start my weekend. I started thinking of what I wanted to do with my free time, considering a shopping trip or seeing a movie. Unfortunately, there was one office that I had failed to notice on my way in that was about to ruin my best-laid plans.
"Oh, hey, that was fast, I could swear Harvey hung up the phone with your boss like three minutes ago," my escape route was cut off by that same familiar face I had seen two weeks earlier. Mike Ross smiled at me and nodded into the office he was heading towards. "His office is this way. I'm glad to see Mr. Matthews sent you, you did a great job on that last case, the one with the accounts in Mexico? You'll have to tell me sometime how you traced those transactions that fast. I mean, I think I could have found them, but there's no way I could have done it in four hours, that was awesome." Mike kept a steady stream of chatter going the whole time and before I realized what was going on, he had escorted me into Harvey Specter's office. It was beautiful and masculine all at the same time.
The man in question was facing one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded an incredible view of Downtown, but was reading intently from a file when we walked in. As he had been the two times prior, he was wearing an impeccably tailored pinstripe suit and looked as comfortable in it as I felt in my yoga pants. Just seeing the back of his head was enough to start my heart beating fast and the Southern belle to start singing love songs. I shushed Scarlett as I tried to concentrate on Mike's wordy explanation of why I was apparently there.
"We need to figure out where the other half of the money disappeared to or our client is going to lose everything. We have all the financial records, but they have so many corporate accounts with a ton of transactions a day that we don't really know what we're looking for," Mike was still continuing to talk about something I didn't understand. "So we called in the big gun."
"No, Mike, I'm the big gun, Ms. Walker is just…more ammunition," Harvey finally spoke, his voice smooth and measured as before, as he turned from the window. And now I could add swarming butterflies in my stomach to the other physical reactions he caused me. It was truly unfair to women that a man that was good-looking to begin with also looked so amazing in a three piece suit. I was preparing to try and get some clarification as to what was going on when we were interrupted.
"Wow, Harvey, now you're commandeering people that don't even work here. That's, well, pretty typical for you, I suppose." A short, stocky man with a receding hair line walked into Harvey's office without preamble. "She was delivering a report to me," Ah, this was Louis Litt, "that I have some questions on."
"Well, Mr. Litt," I said, finally able to get a word in, "I can try and answer your questions, but I didn't…"
"What do you mean try? If this is your report, you should know it inside and out," Litt cut off my answer. I was beginning to not like him at all. The more he talked, the more he reminded me a weasel.
"I would agree, Mr. Litt, however I only delivered the report, I didn't work on the Sanders project. I'm sorry, you'd be better off contacting Mitchell Harris to discuss any questions you have," I replied, trying to keep my voice as agreeable as possible. I didn't want to ruffle any feathers of one of our biggest clients.
"Oh, I see. Delivery girl. Well then, never mind," he almost snarled as he spun and left the office. I was a bit taken aback at his attitude, but not entirely surprised. Mike threw me an apologetic look.
"He's a charmer," I said quietly, not wanting to sound too petulant.
"I'd like to tell you that Louis is stressed over the Sanders IPO, but he's really just a dick," Harvey commented, sauntering over to where Mike and I were standing. I prayed that eventually, I wouldn't want to giggle mindlessly when he spoke to me, but I wasn't holding out any hope.
"Wait, so you're not here to help us with the Myers case?" Mike asked.
"No," I answered, "I was just here to deliver that report. Sorry," I didn't know why I felt the need to apologize but when I saw the disappointed look on Mike's face, I couldn't help it. "So, I'm gonna go now," I started towards the door.
"Okay. We'll just be here all night…looking through these transactions…trying to save our client's money…all night…tons of transactions…." Mike's voice followed me to the door. I paused shaking my head at his attempt to get me to stay.
"Really, guilt, that's what you're going for?" I asked, turning back around. "Cause I've got things to do. And you apparently already called my boss to send someone else over."
"Actually I asked your boss to send you over," Harvey added. I blinked in surprise. He had asked for me? That was an unexpected turn of events. "Now, are you going to stay or do I need to call your boss to send someone else?"
I considered my options for a moment. I did technically have the rest of the day off and hadn't heard any different from Mr. Matthews since I left the office. I could have left with a mostly clear conscience had worried about any consequences on Monday. Then on the other hand, as I glanced over at Mike, who was flipping through a ream of paper and practically pouting, I could stay and possibly impress the best-looking man I've ever seen. It was a split decision, until I made the mistake of looking at Harvey again.
The smirk was back. Somehow it was a different than before, this one issuing a challenge to me more than mocking me. Well, that was that, I couldn't turn that down. I held out my hand to Mike, who immediately handed me a manila folder full of paper. "Okay, explain to me again what we're looking for," I said, heading towards an empty chair. As Mike began listing the details of the case, I looked at Harvey and wished I hadn't. He was grinning in complete victory, knowing he had convinced me to stay. I had played right into his hands. No wonder Becca hated going up against him.
Four hours and two Dr. Peppers later, I found the rest of the money. I received a high five from Mike and a "Good job Walker" from Harvey, which made me realize neither of them knew my first name. I rolled my eyes at this realization as I gathered my stuff together. Awesome, I was trying to impress a guy that could only call me by my last name. As Harvey was pushing Mike to his cubicle to finish typing up a settlement agreement or something, the younger man waved at me. "Thanks, um, Walker?" he said hesitantly. I smiled back.
"You're welcome, Mike. Have a nice weekend."
"Thanks," Harvey repeated as he followed Mike to his space. And just when I thought I had made it through one whole interaction with him..."Tell Becca I'll see her Monday for the Shyer meeting," he finished with a grin. I froze mid-step, watching him amble away. My inner monologue started up again. While I was partially overjoyed that he did remember me from the bar, I was also pissed to high heaven that he knew that I had thought he didn't remember me and that he somehow knew that it had bothered me. Just from the tone of his voice, I knew his last comment had been my 'reward' for helping out. This time I indulged my inner child and did stick my tongue out at his retreating form. Damn it, I thought, this is not going to end well for me.