Chapter Text
Harvey Specter had seen a lot of things in his career—CEOs who thought they were God, rivals who folded with the right smile, and associates who cracked under pressure. But nothing—nothing—prepared him for the moment Robert Thorne looked at Mike Ross like he was dessert on a silver platter.
“You really bring your associate to every meeting, or is this just a treat for me?” Thorne asked, tone laced with charm that was just a little too deliberate.
Harvey leaned back in his chair, folding one arm across his chest as he smirked. “Depends. You planning on behaving?”
Thorne chuckled, deep and rumbling, like someone who liked hearing himself speak. He was tall—taller than Harvey, which was annoying—and built like he wrestled bears on the weekends. Slick hair, expensive watch, a jaw like a brick wall. The kind of guy who shook your hand like he was testing your bone density.
Mike, blissfully unaware as usual, smiled brightly and reached for the documents. “I compiled a list of comparable contracts to help benchmark the equity terms—”
“I’m sure you did,” Thorne said smoothly, leaning closer to Mike than necessary. “You strike me as very… thorough.”
Mike blinked, then grinned proudly. “Thanks! Harvey says I overprepare, but I just like to cover every angle.”
Harvey bit back a laugh. Jesus Christ, he has no idea.
“Overprepare all you want,” Thorne murmured. “Makes you very valuable to have around. I like that.”
Mike beamed, and Harvey raised a brow. Thorne was practically salivating. This wasn’t subtle, it was a full-court press. But Mike wasn’t catching any of it. Instead, he shuffled through the contract notes like a golden retriever with a briefcase.
Part of Harvey wanted to warn him. Another part—the admittedly more entertained part—wanted to see how long it would take Mike to catch on.
Still, the negotiations weren’t going badly. Thorne was aggressive, sure, but he was clearly enjoying himself. And if Mike’s puppy-dog sincerity kept the guy distracted long enough for Harvey to steer the terms where he wanted them, well—who was he to stop that?
They wrapped the first meeting just before noon, and Mike stood, holding out his hand. “I’ll email you the cleaned-up redlines after I incorporate today’s edits.”
“Looking forward to it,” Thorne said, grasping Mike’s hand a little too long. “Don’t make me wait.”
Mike just nodded, polite and professional. Harvey watched, amused, as the door closed behind Thorne.
“You know he wants to sleep with you, right?”
Mike frowned. “What?”
Harvey grinned. “Thorne. The whole time. Man was practically undressing you with his eyes.”
Mike gave him a look like come on, seriously. “He was just being friendly.”
“That wasn’t friendly. That was interested. There's a difference.”
Mike laughed, already packing up his notes. “You’re exaggerating. And anyway, what does it matter if he likes me? He’s more likely to accept the deal, right?”
Harvey opened his mouth to object—but paused. “Exactly.”
He didn’t know exactly why the words felt wrong.