Chapter Text
Autumn has always been the firm's busiest season with their new associates entering the next stage of their careers after graduating in the summer before. Not to mention, it was also the season where most companies sought to get their legal affairs ratified in preparation for the upcoming new year.
But it was also the season where New York's richest dressed to the nines, commencing what the opulent dubbed as charity gala season. Between early September to January, New York City's wealthiest and most influential companies hosted galas, which were often tethered to a charitable foundation of their choosing, where people socialized and made large donations all in the name of "giving to the poor"—which, honestly, was a façade for people to "boast their wealth". It also meant, to Harvey's dismay, that selective legal firms, hospitals, private companies, and other companies alike took turns hosting charity benefits throughout the season. So when he had received a call from his former mentor announcing her visit as a last "Hail Mary" attempt to save the firm's imagery after all that had happened—including Mike's arrest and the many, many lawsuits that followed—Harvey, with his cellphone pressed firmly against his ear, had numbly sighed.
It was nearly midnight when Harvey's phone rang, and a picture of the respected, tall brown woman appeared on his screen. He had just come home from yet another long day at work, and by god, was this one the longest one he had ever felt in a while. Although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, it had felt like Andrew Malik was slowly tying a noose around his neck and waiting for the floor to drop from underneath him.
What started as a case that should have been distracting him from every other present adversity in his life—Jessica being physically gone, Mike spending increasingly less time at the firm, and, though he definitely wouldn't admit this out loud, Donna pulling further and further away from him—the case had only become more complicated when they learned that Andrew Malik had subpoenaed Donna to the stand.
"He blindsided me, Jessica," Harvey stated as his eyes transfixed onto the city lights opposite of his bedroom window. He hadn't intended to spill his thoughts to the unsuspecting woman, but after the quick pleasantries, Jessica had asked how the firm was holding up and he had all but blurted out their newest obstacle. Though as the words left his lips, distantly, he could hear the clacking of pots and pans from the kitchen. No doubt, Paula—who he had found sitting on his sofa when he arrived home less than ten minutes ago—was trying to fix a last-minute dinner for them.
"This isn't Donna's first rodeo, Harvey," Jessica replied slowly after a moment of silence. It was as though his former mentor had read his mind as she offered her few words of consolation to ease his worries. But the truth was, although Jessica may be aware that he was nervous about Malik targeting the gun towards him, his deepest fear was Donna being caught in the crossfire. It didn't matter if he was the target or if this case had nothing to do with him; anytime Donna was potentially involved, Harvey could feel his heart pound in anxiety.
Because she's different.
The words he had said to Mike several years ago surfaced in his mind as he tried to swallow the memory by refocusing his attention back to the city lights below him, but then Jessica's voice brought him back to the present.
"This is what you're going to do," the older woman stated calmly, "You and Louis will do your jobs and prepare her for the stand, and you guys will make sure that nothing happens to you both or the firm. And then, you will find a way to defeat this Andrew Malik."
Harvey felt his lips twitch at the half-order from his former boss. Her faith in him had always been a defining characteristic of their relationship.
But the slight amusement slowly faded as the next pressing fear entered his thoughts, and Harvey felt the need to spill what was in his chest.
"This thing with Malik," the attorney sighed, his eyes finally tore away from the city lights as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed. Though, as planted himself onto the edge of the bed, from his peripheral vision, Harvey watched as a blur of blonde walked past his bedroom door and he—subconsciously—paused for a moment.
"It's... personal," Harvey murmured, his voice a little quieter by instinct. He paused for another moment as though to gather his racing thoughts before continuing in the same hushed tone, "What if he makes it personal on the stand?"
The words—and Harvey wasn't too sure if it was because his eyes landed on Paula for a second, and he suddenly felt the need to conceal some things—were vaguely stated, though Harvey trusted that his mentor knew what he was implying. Almost every attack against him, for as long as he could remember since he and Donna had begun their partnership, had always been of a personal nature. Or if it wasn't personal at first, it becomes personal because some way, somehow, his enemies seem to find out that Donna is the one person in his life that is absolutely off limits. And, almost always, Donna's integrity and virtue were left at the crossfire.
"Then you will do what you do best, Harvey," Jessica stated firmly, and Harvey felt a wisp of a smile grow on his lips as he listened to the steady assurance in his former mentor's voice. It was the same tone she'd use when he used to complain to her about an upcoming exam or project throughout his law school days. Jessica's method of comfort was a far cry from his own mother's, but Harvey had always appreciated the unwavering confidence she had in him. "You will win this case. But for now, there are some other matters that I wanted to talk to you about."
Harvey felt his eyebrows furrowed as he waited for the woman to continue. Her tone sounded urgent, and yet, if it had been she would have started off with her news instead of letting him ramble on about his own issues.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. But, I had just gotten off a call from Mount Sinai Hospital," Jessica replied swiftly, cutting to the point of her call. "And you know what they mean to the firm."
And he does. Mount Sinai Hospital was one of Pearson Specter Litt's backers since the firm was known as Gordon Schmidt and Van Dyke. The firm had represented them on multiple litigations, and in lieu, they have gained their monetary support. But after Mike's case was taken to the public, their alliance with Mount Sinai Hospital had seemingly withered.
"They aren't looking to sue us too, are they?" Harvey sighed, his mind already racing at the prospect of that. They were a fallen empire compared to the hospital conglomerate, which no doubt had triple its financial resources.
"No, in fact, they are extending an olive branch," Jessica stated, and Harvey could hear the smile in his former mentor's voice. However, he frowned. Had Mount Sinai Hospital been a law firm, a merger would be the "olive branch" in question. But last he checked, hospitals and law firms don't form mergers.
"Which is?" Harvey asked, his frown deepening in anticipation.
"You know about the charity gala that they host annually is in a few days, yes?" Jessica hummed, though when he made no comment, the woman continued. "The invitation was extended to a few other law firms, other hospitals, and businesses. All proceeds will go to the Mount Sinai Children's Center Foundation."
Harvey felt his jaw harden at the words. "Yeah, we declined their invitation because we don't have the capacity— wait, are they looking for money?"
Even after a year of rebuilding, and with Louis' sizable net worth, Pearson Specter Litt was still nowhere in the place to be making large charitable donations— much less, a charitable donation to a supposed ally who left them high and dry the minute they were under a crisis.
Loyalty be damned, he supposed.
"We need to make a stand, Harvey," Jessica noted, her tone still firm in her usual no-nonsense tone. "We need to show them that the law firm is still strong and that we stand behind every decision we've made."
"Yeah, well, Mike convinced me to take on Andrew Malik's case to show them that we are still a worthy opponent, and look at where's that got me," Harvey retorted. He had wanted to sound nonchalant, but his voice betrayed him and the fears that he had buried underneath his beating heart.
"Harvey, your case with Andrew Malik is different," Jessica sighed, "It's personal because Malik made it personal. This gala isn't. This is business and what needs to be done to save the firm's reputation."
Harvey frowned at the woman's words, "Jessica, you can't possibly be asking me to put this case on the back burner to attend a party—"
"I'm not asking, Harvey. This gala will have investors. Allies. People who believe that our firm is still worth something, and I am expecting that, like me, all of the firm's senior staff will be in attendance."
Pursing his lips into a thin line, Harvey held his protest at the tip of his tongue. Silence loomed over both ends of the phone until the younger attorney finally let out a sigh.
"Jessica, if you believe that this gala can help the firm's reputation," Harvey stated with a begrudged tone as his index and thumb reached the bridge of his nose. Harvey squeezed his eyes closed for a moment as he contemplated what he was going to say next were the right words. "Then I will attend."
"Good. I will be back the night before the gala. I need you to inform Louis and Donna, and have Donna spread the word to the associates and partners."
Ending the call by promising that he would do what he was told, Harvey let out a final sigh as he gently tossed his phone to the side of the bed. The attorney laid himself flat on his bed as his throbbing head spun. The last thing he wanted to do was parade around a ballroom filled with strangers and make small talk with potential investors and clients. No, what he wanted was to find a way to make sure that Malik didn't get anywhere near their firm, and most importantly, Donna.
Though just before he could reach his phone to call Jessica and try to protest again like a petulant child, a voice broke him from his thoughts and Harvey turned his head to find Paula standing at the doorway. A sweet smile was on her face as she approached him, and Harvey realized that she was wearing an apron.
"Dinner's ready," his girlfriend stated with a grin on her face as she took his hand to pull him up. He let out a laugh as he allowed her to haul him into the kitchen where the scent of basil and tomatoes attacked his nostrils. And for a few hours, as they ate their dinner over effortless conversations about non-work related topics, Harvey found the shooting pain between his eyes lessened.
However, as they got ready for bed, what Harvey failed to notice throughout the rest of the night was Paula's hopeful gaze as she eagerly waited for him to bring up the topic of the gala or, more specifically, ask her to accompany him to the event. And yet, unbeknownst to the psychiatrist, even as his heavy arms wrapped around her torso to pull her flush against his torso, the moment the attorney rested his head on the pillow and slumber lulled over him, his mind wandered to the image of another woman; a copper-haired woman with deep hazel eyes.
The cool early-autumn breeze caused the copper-haired woman to shiver slightly as she made her way towards the lobby doors. It was probably too cold to wear her usual knee-length dresses without hosieries, let alone without an overcoat, but the COO had severely underestimated the September weather and decided to "risk it" by opting to leave her coat—and hosiery!—at home. Clearly, the choice to make was the wrong one, because the five-minute stride from where the taxi had dropped her off to the firm's lobby doors had become excruciatingly long. Though, with just her cup of hot coffee to warm her hands as she trudged towards the door, Donna suddenly felt a presence next to her.
Startled, the copper-haired woman spun around only to be met with a wool fabric draping over her shoulders and... Harvey's concerned glare.
"You're lucky I didn't scream," Donna announced bluntly with widened eyes, though a ghost of a smile spread on her lips as her nimble fingers made contact with the thin wool coat that had been bestowed on her bare shoulders. The gesture—especially these days—was rare, though Donna couldn't help but justify Harvey's sudden need to be chivalrous by him pitying her. And yet, as the thought of being pitied danced in her mind, the COO couldn't quite make sense if he was pitying her for their case at hand, the fact that he was in a committed and stable relationship while she was not, or the fact that her lips were turning Smurf-blue. But Donna stuffed those thoughts down as they, in their usual fashion, continued to walk side by side toward the lobby door.
"A simple 'thank you' would have sufficed," Harvey replied with an eye roll, though Donna caught a glimpse of a smile that had been increasingly elusive since the entire Andrew Malik case began, including Malik issuing her a subpoena. "I'm just surprised that the great and mighty Donna Paulsen didn't anticipate cold weather."
Although it was a misstep on her part for not checking the weather forecast—and to underestimate Mother Nature herself—truth be told, the COO was also somewhat hung over from the amount she had drunk with Rachel last night; she poured her heart out on her and Mike's sofa. But Harvey didn't need to know those types of details.
"I guess I'm just stuck thinking about warmer weather," Donna replied with a slight laugh after a silent second. And it was partially true. When she closed her eyes at night, her mind would drift back to the warm spring night when they found out that Mike officially passed the bar. She would never regret the decision to finally leave her secretarial job and find "something more" in the form of a senior position at the firm, but that night when everyone gathered and they had gotten the call that Mike was a legitimate lawyer, it had been one of her happiest moments. It had felt like seeing her child—her pup, the nickname she had given him—graduate, as pride filled her chest for her dear friend. But most of all, it was the night before everything truly changed.
Before she—and though it pains her to admit, definitively—left his desk.
Before their dynamic changed, however it may be.
Before he started seeing Paula.
Before she felt like she was watching him live his life through a glass window, because the night she had told him that she wanted "something more", he decided that he wanted "something more" too. But it wasn't with her. And maybe, it was never with her to begin with.
Donna felt her smile tighten ever so slightly as the thought plagued her mind, though luckily for her, she had gone to theatre school. And just as they walked through the pearly glass doors to the firm's lobby, Donna quickly shrugged Harvey's coat off her shoulders. She watched as Harvey frowned for a moment at her outstretched hand, and his wool coat dangling from it. He took it, though not without opening his mouth slightly as though he was about to protest.
Donna looked away, a small smile still plastered on her face as she murmured a "thanks". It would have been easier if they had been going their separate ways. But, unfortunately for her circumstance, they still worked twelve feet from each other except for the new addition of a drywall that separated their offices.
"Anyways," Harvey coughed lightly before letting an awkward silence settle between them, and for that she was thankful. "Good thing I flagged you down because I have news from Jessica."
Donna raised an eyebrow at that and at her long-time friend's face. If the news had been a bad one, the attorney wouldn't have spent the entire two-minute walk to the lobby trying to make small talk. Plus, it didn't look like Harvey had lost sleep over this "news" considering he was clean-shaven and his hair was coiffed up as usual, and if it had been bad-bad news, there was no way he would have thought to be as gallant as offering her his jacket.
So the copper-haired woman took the telltale signs that it wasn't bad news and asked, and not without a growing smirk, "A royal decree?"
Reinforcing her assumptions, Harvey mirrored her smile with one of his own, though it quickly turned into a grimace. "She's coming back for Mount Sinai's annual charity gala because she wants to promote our image as a firm."
"And judging by your grimace, she's insisting that you have to show up," Donna murmured back, amused that even to this day, the big-time attorney before she hates attending these types of galas. She, on the other hand, loved it. Galas and parties were the types of events that allowed her to get even more dolled up than usual, and she—fueled by the confidence within her—loved flaunting her looks and awesomeness every now and then. But if the truth were to be told, the copper-haired woman's confidence has been wavering lately. Between settling into her new role as the firm's COO, which felt like swimming in murky, uncharted waters, to dealing with her conflicting feelings for the man in front of her that originated from her innermost insecurities, the past few months had been a hit after hit against her usual fearless esteem. And she had that miscalculated, poor judgement on her part night where she had run from Mark's hotel room to show for it—not that she would ever contemplate on telling Harvey about the events that had transpired that night two weeks ago. Donna could already feel the trepidation in her pounding chest at the thought of him finding out.
"Actually, not just me. Jessica is demanding for every senior staff at the firm to attend," Harvey quipped back with a look that tore her away from her thoughts as the memories of standing in the golden-lit hotel hallway disappeared from her mind. If the COO were to squint, she could have sworn that the attorney's original ambivalence to the event was slowly morphing into something akin to—dare she say—excitement.
Donna raised an eyebrow that, as an unsettling feeling rested at the pit of her stomach. In all the years she'd known Harvey, he had never shown this much—it was a modicum, really—excitement to these types of events. But the man in front of her seemed almost giddy as if he was holding back a smile under his reluctant gaze as he stared at her expectantly.
But then, the spark in his eyes diminished, and Donna realized that she'd forgotten to reply.
"What's wrong? You usually love these types of things," the man in front of her noted, his tone a little more impartial than usual. Donna breathed out a sigh as her mind scrambled to think of a reason for her out-of-the-ordinary reaction other than the fact that she felt a fit of jealousy in her gut. The idea that Harvey was a little more eager to attend this function because now, unlike the other times they've ever had a gala to attend, he got to bring Paula along left a sour taste in her mouth. The idea that she used to drag him kicking and screaming to these types of events sent a proverbial stab to her chest.
Which shouldn't because she was never his girlfriend. She had only been his secretary, whose job was to ensure that he attended these events to help advance his career.
And maybe, just maybe, that was a harder pill to swallow than she had thought.
So, as they entered the empty elevator, the copper-haired woman put her theatre degree to use. With a slight shake of her head, the slightly-less-than-truthful words slipped out of her mouth—just as she reached over the elevator buttons and pressed the number '50'—before she could stop them.
"It's just that with everything going on with Malik's subpoena to the case, I guess attending a gala is the furthest thing from my mind right now."
But it wasn't a complete lie, either. Malik's subpoena had taken her by surprise and she was worried about the old cases that Malik would shine a spotlight on. Though, Donna silently inhaled as she warily watched the man's expression. A part of her hoped that he'd agree with her and tell her that he didn't want to attend the gala either. Another part of her was begging him to tell her that she didn't need to attend and that she didn't need to watch him happily dance with another woman all night long. And yes, that was her innermost covet speaking.
Though, instead, she watched as Harvey's expression changed from impartial to understanding. The man in front of her offered her a small smile with a nod.
"I know what you mean," the attorney sighed as he jammed his hands into his pants pockets. His eyes broke away from hers, and for a moment Donna looked down at her shoes as the elevator whirred. "But Jessica is insistent that every senior staff member attends."
The words lingered in the air just as the copper-haired woman parted her lips to express her thoughts. However, the attorney's next words, tinged with slight laughter, froze every cell in her body.
"Come on, we can get you a new dress just like old times."
And Donna knew that the laughter-imbedded words had meant to sound light, like a joke, but the copper-haired woman felt her heart pound at the implication. Once upon a time, despite Harvey's disdain for these types of events, one of their traditions included her buying a new dress for the occasion using his credit card. With each year, each promotion, and each career triumph, her dresses only got more luxurious and expensive.
But now, it just doesn't feel right to continue on the favoured custom.
So as the elevator came to a halt—with the copper-haired woman glancing at the red analog number 50 shining back at her—and before the metal doors could open, Donna gazed at the man whose smirk began to fade as the milliseconds went by. No doubt, it was a reaction to her less-amused face. Though mustering everything she had, the COO flashed him a wisp of a smile just as the doors rolled open and murmured softly, "We don't have to do that anymore, Harvey."
What she really had meant is that they shouldn't.
Not when his girlfriend is the one he was bringing to the gala. Not when the blonde psychiatrist is the one who will be on his arm the entire night while he shows her off to their friends, colleagues, and anyone else who cares that Harvey Reginald Specter, infamous playboy and bachelor, was finally ready to settle down.
However, before she could even confront her own bitter thoughts let alone give the ex-bachelor in question a chance to respond, the copper-haired COO briskly exited the elevator with the sounds of her heels echoing against the beige tiles. However, just as she stepped foot onto the firm's foyer, the copper-haired woman felt her phone chimed. She glanced down at the metal device in her hand, her eyes narrowing at a new message from a number that she could have sworn that she had permanently deleted from her phone a fortnight ago.
Donna furrowed her brows at the message as she felt crimson heat rise to her face before quickly switching off her phone screen just as the man followed her out of the metal lift, suddenly standing too close to her. The way his hand accidentally brushed against the small of her back—feeling like an anchor as her mind rapidly raced—didn't go unnoticed by her, and Donna closed her eyes for a second as she inhaled a breath. She hated the way that even his barely-there touch could soothe her. If it had been his entire hand against her back, no doubt she'd positively melt against him like molten lava.
With her eyes still closed, Donna took a millisecond to curse the fact that she hadn't worn a jacket today.
As she reopened them, the COO watched as the attorney stepped beside her, and she could already sense the protest on his lips before he could even utter a word. And maybe in different circumstances she would have toyed with the idea and relented, allowing him to play whatever fairy godmother role—or succumbing to his own pity for her—and let him purchase her a new dress like how she would have two and a half months ago. Maybe, if it weren't for the fact that the message on her phone felt like it was burning a hole through her increasingly clammy palms while a sudden wave of shame washed over her.
So, pressing her lips together into a smile—albeit a tight one—Donna nodded right as the brunette man's lips parted, no doubt to insist on practicing their little ritual.
"I will email the senior staff today about the upcoming gala as soon as I get the details from Jessica and," Donna felt her head tilt slightly towards the man across from her as her hazel eyes met his brown ones. A silent second goes by before she continues. "Thank you for your offer, Harvey. But I am more than capable of finding my own dress."
The words hadn't intended to sound as cold as they did, however, the second it left her lips Donna felt a pang of regret as she watched Harvey's sullen expression.
"Right," Harvey mumbled back, his eyes anywhere but on her face. "Of course."
She flashed him another tight-lipped smile before walking to her office, praying this time, even though his office was right next to her own, that he would allow her to retreat to her office with the sliver of dignity she had left, and that wouldn't follow her.
The afternoon sun had cast a warm orange glow into his office by the time Harvey finally got the courage to take the black AMEX card out of his wallet. As he spun the plastic rectangle between his thumb and index finger, the usual self-assured attorney could feel his courage turning all but liquid when he was confronted with the next step; actually handing over his card to Donna.
It had been the way that she declined his offer, so quickly and without a jab or even a flicker of a laugh, that had caught him off guard and sent him into a slight panic as he dazedly watched her retreat to her office. But then, as he stood in the elevator foyer watching as the vision of the copper-haired woman grew smaller and smaller, it had dawned on him; she had never turned down an opportunity to buy herself a gift using his credit card before.
She had never been so... indifferent towards him before. Not even those few short grueling months where she had worked for Louis, at the very least, they learned how to become friends again. No. This felt different. This felt like she was just slipping away altogether, and the thought of it...
Harvey let out a sigh as he mindlessly tapped the card against the glass office desk. The attorney momentarily glanced at the wall that separated his office from his copper-haired COO's, and he wasn't unbeknownst to the metaphor of it all. He knew that he had to find a way to break down that proverbial wall that separated him from her, but as the days went by, he only felt more and more bricks being added between them.
It wasn't them. They weren't... this. They weren't awkward and they sure as hell didn't play coy with each other as though they were strangers—no, it was worse because it felt like she was a stranger with a six-feet pole jutting out towards him—but that was what it felt like, and he absolutely hated it.
He closed his eyes with a sigh as memories of words she had angrily said to him a year and a half ago echoed in his mind.
You didn't just stop treating me like family, you started treating me like a stranger. And for your information, that is a thousand times worse than if you treated me like your enemy.
He just didn't think that he'd ever be on the receiving end.
"You know, you need a credit card terminal to make a transaction. Tapping your AMEX on your desk isn't going to get you any more Flomax."
Harvey snapped his head up at the voice, only to find Mike sauntering into his office with a smirk as the younger attorney glanced at the AMEX. Harvey rolled his eyes at Mike's—yet another—prostate joke, though he didn't make a comment or a jab of his own. And perhaps that was what sent alarm bells ringing in the blue-eyed attorney's mind because Harvey watched as Mike's smirk faded as he sat on the armrest.
"Woah, what happened? Is it Malik?" Mike asked, his brows furrowing. Harvey shook his head silently, knowing that—like him—Mike was also highly concerned about Malik's case, and more importantly, Donna's subpoena.
"Okay, so if it's not Malik, what's gotten you all moody?" Mike asked slowly. Harvey watched as the man sat himself on the edge of his office couch.
"Does Donna seem off to you lately?"
The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and for a moment, Harvey regretted asking it. He also didn't know who else to ask. Asking Louis would provoke a long list of worrying and questions from the stout man, and asking Rachel meant that sooner or later, Donna would know that he was inquiring about her. Mike was the safer choice, though by the way the younger attorney was staring back at him—with his blue eyes widened and a confused, no wait, it's a pitiful look on his face—Harvey knew that maybe asking Mike also wasn't the best decision either.
"Forget I asked—"
"—Harvey," Mike interrupted gently, his lips pressed into a firm line. "Donna's been subpoenaed by a man who's intent is to take you down for good. I think being off is a very valid reaction—"
"No, I meant—" the older attorney immediately protested though he paused with a sigh. "No— no, you're right. It's probably just the case."
Harvey miserably looked away from the other man with a last sigh through his nose. How does he even begin to explain to the younger man the turmoil he was feeling was because it felt like his ex-secretary was slowly slipping away all because she didn't accept his damn credit card? Or was he simply overthinking it?
As a moment of silence overtook his office, Harvey listened as Mike took a tentative step towards him. His eyes met the younger attorney's, and he could see the pitiful glance still embedded within the man's blue irises. Damn him.
"Look Harvey," the man began softly, and it was as though he was beginning to step into uncharted territories. Harvey wanted to snap that he was. "The whole firm knows that for the past two months and a half, something is going on between you two—"
"Drop it, Mike," Harvey muttered, shaking his head. "Everything is fine. Everyone is just adjusting to Jessica leaving, Donna's new position and Malik's case—"
"—and your relationship with Paula."
It wasn't exactly his girlfriend's name that caught his immediate attention, more so it was Mike's accusatory tone that made the older attorney suddenly feel defensive. His friends' opinions on his relationship with Paula hadn't been exactly kept under wraps like they thought. Harvey knew how Mike felt about Paula, and although the younger man had only shown respect for his girlfriend during the scant times their paths had ever crossed, Harvey also knew that that was the reason why not many of his friends liked her; they didn't really know her.
However, before Harvey could even open his mouth to defend himself and his innocent relationship with the woman he liked, Mike shrugged.
"Seems to me like your new relationship with Paula is what is causing the need to adjust."
Harvey frowned at Mike's cryptic words. And although the attorney felt his shoulders leveled in defense, his legs refused to stand. Suddenly, it was as though he lost all of the power to even come up with a defensible argument. So instead, Harvey all but gritted out with his eyes closing. "What are you trying to say, Mike?"
"My point is," Mike coughed out gently, "And I am not putting the blame on anyone, but I think that you need to ask yourself why Donna's distance, or the fact that she didn't want to use your credit card to by herself a new dress like how she used to always do, is bothering you so much."
And it was as if on cue, both of the men's eyes landed on the black and gold AMEX card that was still in the older attorney's hand and a second of silence went by before Harvey slowly raised his head and glared softly at the man. Mike flashed him an apologetic half-smirk.
"You two practically raised me in this law firm, don't think that I don't know all of your rituals and traditions by now," the younger attorney shrugged one last time before he began to turn away. Before he could turn towards the door, Harvey watched as the younger attorney nodded towards him, "And I think you might need to hold onto your AMEX for a little bit longer because Rachel and Donna went out for their lunch break, but I am pretty sure that they went to Bloomingdale's."
And with a final look towards him, Harvey watched Mike's retreating form before his eyes fell back onto the card in his hand. He closed his eyes with a sigh.