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It came to Mike’s attention on the third day of Chanukah that he had neglected to find a gift for Louis. Not that Louis was expecting a gift from him, nor did the senior partner indicate in anyway that he was hoping for a gift. But Mike was walking home from the corner mart when he stopped midstep and swore.
He didn’t know what to buy Louis.
He didn’t really have a good taste in theater or fancy wines. He didn’t know or want to know anything about his mudding or spa treatments. He didn’t know what Louis did outside of the firm, so what on earth would he be able to buy?
Harvey was no help. When Mike asked him what he’d gotten for Louis, Harvey frowned at him and asked- “Wait he’s Jewish?”
“You’ve known him for over ten years how did you not know he was Jewish?” Mike replied in disbelief. Harvey just shrugged. “Oh my god you are unbelievable.”
“I never asked! We do this thing where we respect each other’s life choices from a distance and occasionally buy expensive booze for each other.” Harvey shrugged again. “It never came up in conversation. But it explains the yamaka.”
“You are-”
“Unbelievable, yes you said that already.”
“So what are you getting him then?”
Harvey looked up with a sigh. “Nothing.”
“Harvey.”
“No, Mike. Louis doesn’t expect presents from me. I don’t expect presents from him. We are grown ups. End of story.”
So Mike gave up trying to get Harvey to help.
Donna had already bought tickets to a variety of shows and one or two of them were gifts to Louis. She waved Mike off with a smile.
“You’re clever you’ll think of something.”
Mike didn’t exactly feel clever when the fifth day of Chanukah rolled around and he still had no idea what to buy for Louis.
Rachel had bought him a spa pass or something. She, like Donna, left him to his misery. None of the other associates were bothering and Mike didn’t really know how to ask Jessica for advice, or if she even bought presents for her minions.
Then, as the sixth day of Chanukah came to a close, Katrina found him at his cubicle.
“Ross I need your help,” she said in a clipped tone.
Mike looked up with a scowl. “What?”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“With you, help is never just help.”
“I promise it’s nothing illegal that could get you fired.” She promised, glancing over her shoulder.
“That is not comforting.” Mike said and she turned back to him with an almost pleading look.
“Mike I’m serious,” she said. “I need your help.”
“Alright what?”
“I don’t know what to get Louis for Chanukah.”
Mike stared at her. “Seriously?”
“Don’t laugh ok. I know how it sounds but,” she sighed. “You know him better than I do. And I want to get him something nice. What should I-”
“I have no idea I can’t find a present for him either.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Well shit.”
“Pretty much.” Mike chuckled. “Any ideas?”
“Other than theater tickets, ballet tickets and wine I can afford?” Katrina sighed. “Nothing.”
“So we’re both on square one.” Mike stood and stretched. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”
Katrina seemed taken aback. “I… Really?”
Mike shrugged. “Well we don’t want Louis catching us conspiring. And I haven’t eaten.”
It took a moment, but a small smile worked it’s way across Katrina’s pale face. “Fair enough.”
It was the first time the two of them spent time together without a case involved. And it was the first time they spent time together outside of the office. It was weird, a little part of Mike didn’t feel all that okay with it, because it was Katrina, Katrina who had humiliated him, treated him like dirt, treated Rachel like dirt, gotten him in trouble with Harvey.
But then it was Katrina who’d helped him with his workload. Katrina who’d helped him with Ava’s case. Katrina who’d stood by him to make sure Louis and Harvey knew the hard work he’d done to help them win.
So maybe, he figured, holding open the door to her as they stepped out into the frigid evening air, it was time for a second chance. A real second chance, that didn’t involve bargaining or blackmail or bribes.
They settled down in a bar a few blocks from the office, ordered their food and a beer a piece and started brainstorming. Nothing seemed adequate enough, and Mike knew theater tickets and weird spa related gifts were out of the question. Katrina had gotten him the special mug, which Mike had to admit was pure genius on her part. She’d gotten him a photo book or two, and new batteries for his recorder, but neither of them were sure what would be the best potential present.
On their third beers, Katrina had a thought.
“The only other thing I can remember that he likes is cats,” She said.
Mike frowned at the froth in his glass. “We could get him cat calenders.”
“Too tacky.”
“Well it’s not like we can just get him a cat, Katrina,” Mike said, setting down his glass and picking at his fries.
Katrina was silent. He looked up and her eyes were wide and a smile graced her face.
“No,” Mike said quickly.
“Mike it’s perfect.”
“No it’s not.”
“We could totally-”
“How are we supposed to find a cat in two days?” Mike demanded. “And how are we supposed to know it’d even be the right one for Louis. He’s picky as hell about everything you know that!”
“Faith, Mike. Faith. We could look at local breeders, or see if there’s one for adop-”
“Katrina this is-”
“The best idea we’ve had think about it I mean-”
“He’d kill us if we fucked it up.”
“Mike,” she said. “Trust me. I think this is it.”
The next morning, Mike found himself at one of the finest pet stores in Manhattan. Katrina had called him at four in the morning to tell him that there was a particularly pleasant purebred persian for sale and he was to go see if it was fit for Louis.
It was evil. Mike left with a gash on his cheek and the handler spent thirty minutes wrestling the cat back into it’s cage.
The other seven options at various high end boutiques and stores were all equally as wrong for Louis as the first, thought luckily for Mike’s face, far less violent. He was about to call Katrina and tell her that they’d failed when he decided to stop in at a small local adoption center and see if maybe, just maybe, one of their cats would be fit for Louis.
None of them were purebred, the lady told him. They were all healthy and ready to take home, but if he was looking for a purebred he was out of luck. He wasn’t sure if Louis would even look twice at anything less than a purebred, and was getting ready to leave, when he heard a soft mewling from one of the pens.
Four kittens were nestled together in a pile, but one had wiggled free and was watching him intently with bright, almost unsettling blue eyes.
“What breed is-” he started to ask.
“Ragdoll mostly. They’re too young to tell what else is mixed with them,” the assistant said. “Would you like to see one?”
“Please,” Mike said and she scooped up the kitten and placed it carefully in his arms.
She, for some reason Mike couldn’t understand, was perfect. She crawled up the front of his jacket and pressed her face against his cheek with a soft cooing sound. Mike smiled.
“I’ll take her.”
That left Katrina to sort out the in office preparations. She had bought toys and treats, suggested by Norma, enough to get the kitten started out. Apparently she’d also gone to Donna and Harvey was now buying Louis six months worth of grooming care for the little furball. Mike had to wonder if Harvey was aware of that, but he didn’t question it.
Keeping the kitten hidden throughout the day was much more of a hassle than anticipated. She moved from Rachel’s office, to Harvey’s, to Mike’s cubicle, and to Katrina’s desk, all so that Louis, and the other associates wouldn’t find her. Harvey did not take kindly to finding a kitten asleep on his chair, but even he didn’t have the heart to move her.
“What’s her name?” he asked Mike, the two of them nestled on the sofa, reviewing notes for the next Tiffany & Co meeting.
“I was thinking we’d let Louis pick,” Mike said.
“Not a bad idea…” Harvey mused, scratching out something on the paper. “I think he’d like Ophelia, though.”
And just like that, Ophelia had a name. Donna agreed with Harvey’s choice, said Louis had mentioned a few shakespearean names in passing the last time he’d tried to find a kitten. So Mike kept an eye on little Ophelia, until it was time to surprise Louis.
Katrina carefully tied a blue bow around the kitten’s neck before setting her in the cushioned box. “The lid is mesh so she’ll be fine.”
“This is insane,” Mike reminded her, standing guard while she placed the box on Louis’ desk, along with the toys and treats. Ophelia gave a protesting mewl form inside the box and Katrina shushed her.
“This is brilliant,” Katrina corrected. “Mike come on, he’s going to love her.”
“I still think that asking him may have been a-”
“He tried to steal another man’s cat, trust me, I think he’s ready for a new one,” Rachel added, setting the card in front of the box and looking around to make sure everything was in place. The menorah and it’s seven candles glittered by the window. “Okay we’re good.”
“He’s coming!” Mike hissed, motioning for them to move. The girls hurried out of the room and Mike followed, the three of them ducking behind Norma’s cubicle wall.
Louis came down the hall, muttering to himself about something or another, yamaka in place atop his head, his brow knotted. He didn’t even glance their way as she strode past the desk and straight into his office, where he stopped a foot from his desk, and stared at the box wrapped in pale blue paper.
“What the-”
A soft mewl interrupted him.
Slowly, painstakingly slowly, Louis moved closer to the desk. He looked around the office, glanced back into the deserted hall, looking for some sort of answer. Another mewl sounded and his gaze returned to the box.
“Are his hands shaking?” Mike whispered, the girls shushed him.
Louis opened the box and set down the lid, a soft gasp the only sound to be heard. They watched as he reached in with careful, and yes shaking, hands and gently lifted a squirming ophelia out of the cushioned box. She gave another soft meow as he cradled her against his shoulder, a disbelieving smile on his face. Then he went for the card.
“Louis, it came to our attention that we hadn’t found you a proper Chanukah present.” He read out loud in a choked voice. “Then, as luck would have it, we found this little one in a shelter. None of us could think of a better father for her than you. We also made sure to get some of the best treats and some toys for her to play with, just to start her off. And included in the card is a check for her grooming, should cover the first six months or so. Happy Chanukah, from-”
Mike.
Katrina.
Rachel.
Harvey.
Donna.
“P.s.” he added, breathless. “Her name is Ophelia.”
Ophelia climbed up onto his shoulder and nuzzled his cheek. Louis’ face broke into a wide, awed smile, and he laughed.
The three of them chose that moment to sneak away. They’d ask Louis about it all in the morning. They celebrated with drinks at the same bar where Mike and Katrina had thought up the idea. Rachel stayed for a round before bidding them good night and heading home, leaving Mike and Katrina with nothing to do but bond over alcohol.
“So what’s going on with you two?” Katrina asked.
“What Rachel?”
“Yeah, what’s the story there?”
Mike shrugged. “There isn’t one. We tried, we failed, we tried again, she’s going to law school and that’s far, far more important than a failing relationship as far as I’m concerned.”
Katrina seemed unconvinced. “You’re taking that pretty well.”
“Who am I to keep her from success?”
“Most people would tag along for the ride,” she told him.
“I don’t want to get in the way…”
Katrina shook her head. “No I think there’s something else there.”
“You are not my shrink I don’t have to tell you anything,” Mike grumbled, downing his drink.
She raised a hand with a smile. “I swear to all unholy hell not to breathe a word of what we say to anyone.”
“It’s ‘swear to god’ doofus.”
“Unholy Hell is a lot scarier and far more fun.”
“True.” Mike sighed and sat back in his seat. “I don’t know what you want to hear though.”
“Is there someone else?” She asked. “I mean, when I was okay with letting someone go, when it could so easily work out well, there was someone else I was interested in.” Mike’s ears burned and she smiled. “Oh I’m right.”
“No you aren’t.”
“Who is it?”
“No one, Katrina,” mike snapped. “Just… Drop it, okay?”
She drew back and muttered an apology. “I wouldn’t tell anyone, thought.”
“I… I’m sorry I just don’t know that for certain,” Mike told her. “And besides its… problematic regardless.”
Katrina rolled her eyes and waved to the bartender for another round of drinks. “Please Ross like I’d get anything out of blackmailing you more than I already have. I’ve found that being on your team is better than trying to be against your team, so you’ve got far less to worry about.” She glanced back at him. “I had hoped we were in agreement on that.”
“What like a truce? A real truce?” Mike asked.
“I believe an alternative word is friendship.”
He considered her a moment, but couldn’t help a smile. “Alright, yeah. Why not.”
They shook on it and saluted each other with a pair of pints.
“No, it’s not my business.” Katrina said. “But I think, if Rachel is now out of the picture, you should consider the other option.” Mike rolled his eyes. “No I’m serious, Mike. If it’s what you want, go get it. Otherwise someone else will take it and then you’ll be miserable.”
Mike sighed. Scottie was back in town.
“Its… It’s complicated,” He told her.
“What it’s not like its your boss or anything, how bad could it-” She paused midsentence and looked at Mike, wide-eyed. “It isn’t.”
“What are you-”
“Is it Harvey?” she asked, in a low whisper.
Mike stared at her, face going red. “How in the hell did you come to that conclusion?”
“You… You don’t spend time with anyone else,” she said simply. “And you look at him funny sometimes.”
“Look at him funny?” Mike repeated.
She nodded. “Yeah. Like you were looking for something and suddenly you found it. It’s not all the time, and never when he’s looking back at you. But I’ve seen it, once or twice.” She chewed her lip. “I wasn’t sure though. Is it him?”
Mike sighed and dropped his head to the bar. “Didn’t realize I was that obvious.”
Instead of the mocking laughter he had expected, Katrina pressed a comforting hand to the broad of his back, the warmth melting through his thin shirt. “I’ve been there, Mike. That’s the only reason it’s obvious to me.” There was a story there, a loaded story, but Mike didn’t press the issue.
He rolled his head and looked up at her. “What did you do?”
She gave him a sad smile. “I ignored it. I kept it to myself and now he’s married to some accountant.”
“That’s shitty,” Mike offered in inebriated sympathy.
“It is.” She agreed, rubbing his back.
“So… You think I should say something?” He asked. “I mean… He’s never shown any interest in… Well in men but more importantly me, before.”
Katrina sipped her stout. “Well I don’t think he’s completely straight. A man that comfortable in his own skin, who finds beauty in pretty much everything, who doesn’t do anything but smile and flirt back when other guys flirt with him- you should have seen him around Darby, I’m not even kidding he flirted right back which was more than weird-”
“Ew, ew no don’t talk about that-”
“And he’s just… he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to say no to something he wants. He’s at least tried it, I’d guess.” She shrugged. “I mean, the worst that could happen is he gets mad at you, you fight for a few days, and you go back to the way things were.”
“If we go back to the way things were,” Mike corrected.
“Faith,” she told him. “You’ve gotta have faith.”
And so, in the dim light of the bar, they hatched another plan.