Gretchen let Harvey know Ray was waiting downstairs. She also let him know that Ray knew exactly where Donna was because he had dropped her off earlier that morning.

When he got in the car, Ray informed him that the drive would be an hour and Harvey tried to relax as his mind ran through scenarios in his head. He knew Donna and him were off—he just wanted things to be better. He wanted them to be better. He was tired of missing her.

Ray filled Harvey in on some of the sentiment Donna had shared with him about the place he was taking Harvey.

It was a small coffee shop that Donna and her mom had stumbled upon when they moved to Connecticut. She continued to visit it twice a year, if not more. She told him it was a special place.

Harvey smiled at the story and his heart warmed at the information. He loved finding out new things about Donna. A small amount of envy crept in at the thought of Ray being the first one she told.

"Ray, I don't know how long I will be. But just drop me off. No sense in you waiting around. And if the weather gets bad—" he didn't finish. Because, honestly, he didn't know what they would do if the weather changed for the worse.

"Are you sure, Mr. Specter?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." He lied. He wasn't sure about anything anymore.

Ray nodded in understanding and Harvey lost himself in deep thought as the evergreens outside slowly turned from green to white.

Donna took a break at the piano to watch Burt cheat his way through another game of chess. She laughed at Burt's justification, letting her know that sometimes you have to do a little bad to do a lot of good, he told her. She shook her head teasingly at the old man. Just then, she remembered she had forgotten to text Harvey. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and quickly typed a reply:

Sorry. I got busy. I am fine. Be at work tomorrow.

She waited a few seconds but nothing. She shrugged her shoulders and put her phone away.

"Hey. Before my wife died, she used to love to listen to this one song. I think she called it Noc—something—or rather, what was it? By Chopin, I think?" Burt had said to Donna about thirty minutes into his new chess game.

Burt was a staple in the coffee shop and ever since his wife died, he spent his days in the small beanery. Donna nodded and tilted her head up. "Oh, you mean Nocturne?"

"Yeah, that's it." Burt nodded, then asked, "Can you play that one?"

"I sure as hell can!" she said with a hint of arrogance.

"It's about young love, you know," she continued, standing from one of the velvet chairs, then making her way back to the piano.

"It's a wonderful piece to play," she added as she sat down on the small piano bench.

"Thanks," Burt said softly and Donna smiled sweetly, her back to him, but well aware of the emotional connection and the meaning behind his request.

She began to play and once again, the sounds of love and romance filled the small shop. It was a classic and while she hadn't played in such a long time—it was like riding a bicycle—it all came back to her.

Her back was to the entrance, but several patrons coming and going from the small coffee shop would stop and listen. It was a longer score and when she finally finished, she received some applause.

There were never more than five in the coffeehouse at a time, and since it was snowing, it was probably even less than usual. But there seemed to be more than just Burt, his new chess partner and Maggie. She was sure of it.

She turned around and she only spotted the usual suspects. Although Maggie had a suspicious grin on her face, Donna didn't think much of it.

There was movement in her peripheral vision, and before she could turn in that direction, a familiar voice sent electricity through her body.

"Hey."

Harvey. Here?

He was walking toward her, slowly clapping as he did so. Donna's brain took a moment to catch up to what her eyes had seen. He was stunningly handsome in his three piece navy Tom Ford suit. If she hadn't known any better, she'd have guessed that he wore it just for her.

He always took her breath away. At some point in their relationship, she foolishly thought he would stop affecting her, but she gave up waiting for that day. It was never going to happen—Harvey would always affect her.

She cleared her throat and pushed a response past her lips; she didn't want to appear speechless because Donna knew 'Speechless Donna' was Harvey's favorite.

"Hey yourself," she said.

"I didn't know you played."

There was a hint of sadness in his voice and Donna suddenly became aware of just how much Harvey didn't know about her life growing up. She knew plenty about him; she even had a standing relationship with his brother.

"You never asked."

She must have looked dazed because Harvey's face reflected worry or maybe it was nervousness; it was hard to tell sometimes with him.

Harvey shrugged his shoulders and nodded; seconds past, "I was worried." It was noncommittal, but it was out there.

"I needed to get away for the day," she responded.

Harvey nodded slowly. His hands were in his pant pockets and he was rocking on his heels. He had a way of disarming her with his simple mannerisms.

He didn't respond, but his eyes said enough. That was the problem, though; he couldn't say it, but she could always see it in his eyes (his deep muddy brown eyes).

She noticed Maggie from behind the counter, watching intensely. Donna dropped her gaze to her hands and her cheeks warmed.

"Harvey, I—"

"Wait, Donna. Can we talk? Maybe sit for a bit."

"Harvey Specter is asking me if we can talk?" She looked around, a look of exaggerated panic across her face, "Is the world ending?" She finished with a tiny giggle.

"Very funny. I talk." He said, while adjusting his white dress sleeves through his navy suit, then continued, "And if that's what you call acting—"

"Don't." She said, interrupting and holding her finger up to him. He opened his mouth, pretending to respond, then quickly curled his lips into a small smile. His eyes danced mischievously as she stood from the bench—then his expression changed.

If it had been any other man, she'd say he was undressing her with his eyes, but it was Harvey, and lately, when it came to him, she had been off her game.

She was intrigued. "What?" she asked him, tilting her head up in a smile that mirrored his. He opened his arms for her to walk past, then he followed her to the couch nearest the fireplace. She sat down and he took the spot next to her.

"How did you…?"

He didn't let her finish. "Apparently, we share locations," he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Ahhhh," Donna giggled, and her checks turned maroon. "I guess we do." She was feeling more comfortable, and no matter how much Harvey drove her nuts, she always felt better when he was with her.

"Louis helped me."

"What did you just say?" A look of shock.

Dryly he responded, "Louis…"

"I know what you said, Harvey; I just can't believe you said it."

She placed her palm on his forehead, pretending to check for fever (secretly wishing she could put her lips on him instead).

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked playfully and he put his hand on top of hers, removing it from his forehead but keeping a hold of it. His hand was warm and it made her insides melt.

"I know. I surprised myself. I think they call it growth," he said with a small chuckle. His eyes softened. "But seriously, Donna, I'm glad I came."

"Me too, Harvey."

He was still holding her hand when Maggie walked up to them. He didn't let go.

Donna cleared her throat, looking at Maggie first, then to Harvey, "Maggie, this is Harvey Spe—"

"Harvey Specter, I knew who it was the minute he walked in." Maggie quipped with a smile; her hands on her hips, looking Harvey up and down.

She shook her head slowly. "You're right, Donna; he's just as you described him. But we can't all be perfect like you, love," she said with a straight face and a wink.

Harvey felt the dig and flashed her his famous Harvey Specter smile—the one that stretched from ear to ear and exudes charm and self-confidence.

"Oh yep. There it is. I see what you're talking about now," Maggie said, pretending to be unfazed by Harvey's good looks and charisma.

"What can I get you to drink?" She continued and Harvey—accepting defeat—relented to Maggie's playfulness.

"All right, two against one. I give up," he said, releasing Donna's hand, throwing his up in surrender as he spoke. Donna instantly missed his touch.

"Medium coffee, black." He adjusted his tie and then added, "Please."

Then he turned to Donna and mouthed the word growth. A boyish grin smeared across his face after he said it and she rolled her eyes playfully at him.

"Be right back," Maggie said, then took off with his order. As soon as Maggie left, they both turned their bodies toward one another.

"How—" Donna started.

"So—" Harvey chimed in.

They both chuckled at their attempt to speak at the same time.

"Ladies first," Harvey asserted.

Then, getting more comfortable, he removed his suit jacket, revealing his navy vest underneath. Not the vest, she thought to herself, fighting back the urge to straddle his lap. Anytime he wore a vest she was reminded of that night, and how they…. She cut her own thoughts off and asked him "Why are you here, Harvey?"

She went right to the point. There was no sense in beating around the bush—-it would either scare him and he'd leave (and she wouldn't be tempted by him) or it would push him to be more open with her.

He shifted his body toward her and rested his arm on the back of the couch. He smelled good, like cedar and vanilla. His eyes rested on her face, and she had never known any man to have eyes as dark and deep as his.

Harvey Specter could speak a million words with just his eyes.

"I'm trying to make things right." He said, matter-of-fact like.

"Well, I don't know if we can go back," Donna responded.

"I didn't say go back. I said better."

It took her by surprise; this wasn't the Harvey she was used to. This was the Harvey that showed up rarely. It was the:

Anyone else ever loses faith in me, it doesn't matter. But with you it's different.

And:

You know I love you, Donna.

And:

The thought of you going to prison makes me want to drop to my knees.

And:

I can't be me without you.

But this time, it felt like all those moments were happening all at once.

She was about to speak when Maggie brought over Harvey's order and two cheese danishes. She placed them on the coffee table in front of them. There were two pillar candles and she pulled out a lighter from her apron and lit each one.

"On the house," she said, patting Donna's knee. Then, turning to Harvey, "You know, she's an amazing young woman. And you're very lucky to have her."

She walked away before he had a chance to respond and a soft, reflective smile hijacked Harvey's face.

Donna fought the urge to protest Maggie's observation. At some point, Harvey was going to have to face the reality that she was more than just his co-worker. And he would have to accept it or not, but either way, she was tired of wanting more from him. In her mind, this was an ultimatum.

She just had to figure out how to tell him.

More silence and Harvey took a sip of his coffee. Then he took another one. And his face lit up in wonderment and Donna knew exactly why.

"Oh my god. Donna Paulsen! I think I know one of your secrets." His voice was slightly higher than normal and very flirty.

He placed the white mug back down on the table and he looked like he had just won the biggest case of his life. She laughed at his child-like response.

"This is the place. This is where you get the vanilla idea from!" He exclaimed, and Donna shushed him.

"Harvey, keep your voice down," she scolded him and playfully smacked him on the thigh. He shook his head in disbelief and joined in on her laughter.

Donna gathered herself, took a deep breath and leaned into Harvey. "I don't want Maggie to think I am taking her idea and making it my own."

"Well, you are," Harvey said after several chuckles.

"Whatever. You can't prove it. I'll just plead the 5th."

Harvey groaned and closed his eyes, no doubt thinking of the times she had taken the stand for him.

"What? Too soon?" She asked sarcastically. Her eyes were sheepishly wide and she wanted nothing more than to keep their light hearted banter going.

"This is nice, Harvey."

Her gaze was fixed on his lips, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to focus on anything other than wanting to kiss him.

Silence settled once more between them and Donna rested the side of her head against the back of the couch, forgetting that Harvey's arm was still outstretched, her head brushing his hand.

"I am, you know."

His voice was much lower. And Donna's stomach flipped at the gravelly tone in which he spoke. He looked serious and his fingers were now playing with her hair. His touch set fire to every cell in her body.

"You are what?" She asked in a whisper.

He scooted closer to her and when he did, his arm slid along the back of the couch, bringing her head against his bicep.

"Lucky," he answered and this time there was an intensity in his voice that caused her own breath to hitch.

They were so close now—close enough to kiss. But she wouldn't be the one to initiate. She had already done that. It would have to be him this time.

It had to be all Harvey.