Chapter Text
The streets of Manhattan were busy and bustling even at six o'clock in the morning. He really hated that winter meant the sun wasn't even up at this time. What made it worse was his secretary had yet to find instructions on how to make a decent cup of coffee. He really didn't have time for this or to make it on his own time. After all, that's what the coffee chains were for: making a perfect cup of coffee and ripping him off at the same time. He didn't mind the ripping off part, he had enough money to cover that expense. He just hasn't found a place that was worth the hassle yet. He had yet to find a coffee shop that served coffee that didn't taste like burned beans or warmed milk. He wasn't proud of resorting to this level but Louis knew the city's best finds. Which was the only reason why he had come with his fellow associate to the coffee shop five blocks away from Pearson Hardman. Plus, Louis said he'd do the paperwork for all his financial cases for three months if he hated it. But Louis was positive Harvey wouldn't be disappointed. Harvey on the other hand held a certain amount of skepticism like he always did with Louis's instances. They turned a corner and came to an abrupt stop.
"Ta-da," Louis announced with a flourish. He did this thing with his hand that looked like Vanna White taught him as he pointed at the sign above their heads.
"Le Chat?" Harvey asked. Anything that was named after a cat was bound to be disappointing. Especially if it was French. He briefly wondered why people always named coffee places after some kind of exotic language. If it was just The Cat, people would this it was some kind of brothel.
"They have these petite scones that are to die for," Louis nodded and opened the door. "And I don't know if you like croissants or not but their triple chocolate one is delicious. And there's nothing made of strawberries in here, which is a perk."
Harvey raised an eyebrow and walked inside. He expected frilly furniture, perhaps frilly drapes lining the windows and butter yellow on every available wall. What he got was a nautical colouring: walls a deep blue on the bottom and a slight eggshell coloured white on the top half. The two halves separated by a sturdy, dark wood. Old wood tables aligned the windows and the walls, small two seater ones. Quaint but practical for a small space in New York City. The paintings and photographs on the wall seemed typical for a French-named coffee shop. Photographs of ballet dancers in black and white aligned the wall. As well as various pictures of French monuments anyone with half a mind for popular history could figure out what they were. There was a single woman at the back he paid no attention to as he looked around with a crucial eye. She didn't even seem to notice the intrusion, deep into whatever she was reading as she turned a crisp page of a paper.
"Not bad, right?" A voice asked from behind him.
"I'm here for the coffee, Louis. Not the frilly atmosphere you seem to appreciate," Harvey said.
He swore the only occupant in the room laughed low at his quip. He couldn't be sure though since her face was covered by the paper. He stood a bit straighter and walked to the counter.
An array of pastries covered one section of the counter. He noticed the scones and croissants Louis mentioned but he was here for one thing: the coffee. He didn't need the frilly food to go with it.
"Vanilla spice latte," Harvey said as he looked up at the board of coffees. "12 ounces."
The woman behind the counter nodded and wrote in sharpie his order on the white paper cup. He handed over a crisp five dollar bill and dumped the change into the small tip jar. No one should jingle, ever.
As he waited in the corner for his coffee, he watched Louis peruse the pastry selection. He shook his head and sighed, they'd be there a while. When the barista handed him his coffee he thanked her and gave her a charming smile. He walked to the seating, leaving Louis to his own devices. He had what he came here for, he didn't need Louis's version of help anymore. As he sat down he frowned to himself. He didn't consciously choose to sit there, his swore his feet moved on their own accord. He kept glancing at the woman half hidden by the paper. Somehow she intrigued him by the way she seemed to read the paper as if it was going to be the last thing she ever read. The only thing he could tell about her for certain was that she had red hair and liked bright coloured nail polish. The shocking pink was alarming against the greyish-white of the newspaper she held. When she folded the paper down she wasn't what he was expecting. Instead of a college age student that her nails led him to believe, she was his age, or so he thought.
She turned and looked at him and he avoided her gaze. He saw her take a sip from her own coffee with the corner of his eye. He unconsciously mimicked her, taking his own sip. He seemed surprised at the flavour. For once it was a perfect milk to coffee ratio. Taking another sip, he enjoyed the balance of spice and vanilla on his tongue. He hated it when Louis was right.
"Louis seems intent on making this trip hell for you," she said.
Harvey's eyebrows knitted in confusion as he looked up at her. Wide brown eyes and ivory white skin looked at him. Her lips held a smirk and he noticed the hint of pearly white teeth through the sliver of a genuine smile underneath the smirk she wore.
"He orders the same thing every time he's in here. He either wants you to hate this place or love it. Since you took more than a sip of your coffee, I'm guessing you like it," the red head noted at his look and silence after her first observation.
"You were reading the paper," Harvey said. He felt like an idiot if that was his comeback to her observations.
"Was I?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
Harvey's head titled slightly.
"Who are you?" Harvey asked.
The red head stood up from her table, lugging her bag onto her shoulder and smirked. He took in the business attire and wondered what she did. As she wrapped the white scarf around her neck, he realised he wasn't going to get answers. She was leaving. She moved to his table and handed him the paper she had been reading. He looked up at her as she squared the paper and a lacquered nail tapped the paper's header.
"Who am I not?" she said with a small laugh.
Before he could ask anything else, she slowly walked out the door and into the busy streets of Downtown.
A week later Harvey stepped into the coffee shop. He had gotten out of court and needed something to tide him over between the court appearance and his next meeting at the office. The next client was sure to give him a headache and he needed a boost to keep him awake as the old man was certain to talk about how things were run "back in his day". Ray had wordlessly driven to the coffee shop and was told to circle around the block, he'd only be a minute.
His eyes adjusted from the outside to the inside lighting and briefly wondered why it was always empty whenever he came here. His eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed the woman that had been there a week before was waiting at the counter in front of him. This time her hair was up in a bun. Unlike last week where she was dressed in professional business attire, she looked like a college kid. The leggings emphasised her curves only deterred by the oversized sweater she wore. His eyebrows raised as he noticed the leg warmers. Last time he checked, he wasn't in the 80's. Her nail polish had changed, too. From shocking pink to a deep, dark colour he couldn't identify off-hand.
He cleared his throat and the chatter between the mysterious red head and the woman behind the counter ceased. He took the opportunity to give the woman behind the counter his order. He was the one on the schedule and it didn't look like either woman had anywhere else to go. As the barista made his cup of coffee, the mysterious red head turned to face him.
She looked him over, acknowledging his presence but doing nothing more than take her cup and bag from the counter. She turned and nodded a goodbye to the barista and side stepped him.
He watched her leave and was graced with a small smile as she leaned against the door with her back to open it up. He felt his own lips upturn before he realised what he was doing.
~z~
"Louis," Harvey said as he strode into the man in question's office without so much as a knock. "The coffee shop. The red head. She's there every time?"
"Every day for the past three months I've been there. Except for Tuesdays and Thursdays. I'm not sure why," Louis nodded. "Why?"
"She seems to be the only one in there when I'm there," he shrugged. He was about to leave when Louis cleared his throat. He turned back, knowing it was a signal.
"You like it?" Louis asked.
"I told you that when we came back from it a week ago," Harvey told him.
"I wasn't sure because you didn't go any other day that week," Louis shrugged.
"I was wining and dining clients. Coffee doesn't really pair well with red wine and scotch," Harvey noted.
When he stayed silent for more than a minute Harvey figured Louis was done. He was about to turn and head back to his office when Louis said something to him.
"What?" Harvey asked.
"Donna," Louis said.
"What?" Harvey asked again. He didn't understand where this was going.
"Her name, the red head? Her name is Donna. She does ballet and some kind of acting classes at NYU," Louis rambled.
"Student?" Harvey wondered.
"Professor, instructor," Louis shrugged. "I never asked her to distinguish between the two."
"How do you know this?" Harvey asked.
"I like the ballet, she's in the ballet world. She's the one who introduced me to the coffee shop. So, you should really be thanking her for the introduction to perfect beans and coffee to milk ratio," Louis informed him. His grin was getting wider. It was time to vacate his office before he said anything else or got too cocky for his own good. There was only room for one inflated ego at Pearson Hardman and Harvey wasn't going to give the title up.
Harvey was about to leave when Louis stopped him again.
"If I put in a good word for you does that make me your wing man?" Louis asked.
"I don't need a wing man, Louis," Harvey told him.
"Suit yourself," Louis shrugged.
Harvey exited the office before any more could be said on the topic. He had a name and that was all he needed for now. He could get the other half the next time he saw her.
The next time they actually ran into one another, she was ordering her coffee. She was back in her professional looking clothing, a pant suit this time around. He frowned at the complicated beverage but said nothing. Instead, he waited with her and followed her with his eyes until she disappeared into the section with tables. As soon as his coffee was finished, he moved to follow her. As he stepped up to her table, he cleared his throat. She didn't look up but the pen in her hand lifted off the paper in front of her.
"Why the skim milk and no sugar but you want extra whipped cream?" he asked.
She looked up from the paper she had been marking up and gave him a once over. Her eyebrows rose as he sat in the seat across from her without asking. He set his coffee beside the stack of papers with marks already made with her blue pen.
"Why blue? Don't professors use red?" he asked.
"You ask a lot of questions. I don't even know your name," Donna said as she leaned back in her chair.
"Harvey. Harvey Specter," Harvey supplied. With the addition of his last name, he hoped to gain hers.
"Donna," was all she supplied.
"So, now that we've met are you going to answer my question?" he asked. He'd get her last name out of her sooner or later. A part of him really wanted it to be the former and not the latter.
"Questions," was all Donna supplied.
"What?" Harvey asked. He was starting to get a complex. He said what too many times around this woman already.
"You asked two questions, and you said are you going to answer my question," Donna told him.
"Semantics," Harvey shrugged. "What are you, some kind of lawyer?"
"No, but you are," she smirked as his face morphed into shock and then became impassive. "You're wearing a $10,000 dollar suit, you carried a briefcase last week when I saw you, and you talk in circles," Donna shrugged.
"You sure you're not a lawyer?" Harvey asked. He gave her a small smile as one bloomed on her own face. "I could be a business executive."
"They're on their phone 24/7, you're not. I watch a lot of tv," she said as she tilted her head. "It makes me believe I can tell whether or not someone is going to kidnap me or is secretly a serial killer."
"Do I pass the test?" he asked.
"You ask too many questions to want to do me any harm. Haven't decided whether or not you're potential stalker material," she laughed as his face dropped. "You're safe, I think."
Harvey's face gained a small smile at her words. Brown eyes met brown and they kept the contact longer than strictly necessary.
She capped the pen and looked at her watch. She took out a folder Harvey didn't realise she had and gathered all her papers. Her hands brushed his arm and he watched her rearrange the papers into a neat stack before returning the folder to the bag. He followed her movements this time around to a bag slung around the side of her chair. Before he knew what was happening, she was up and the cup of coffee and red head was out the door. He grabbed his cup and moved to follow her out the door.
"Wait," Harvey said as she moved to step off the sidewalk and cross the street.
She paused mid-step, and he prided himself on his quick thinking.
"Can I see you tomorrow?" Harvey asked when she turned to face him. It was Thursday, she wouldn't be here but that made it all the more tempting to him. He liked the occasional puzzle.
"If you can find me," she said with a small laugh and a smile playing on her lips.
"I don't even know your name," he told her.
"Paulsen," she said. "It's Donna Paulsen."
Harvey watched as she crossed the street before he could say anything else. He stared after her, watching until the familiar red of her hair was no longer visible in the sea of business executives. Shaking himself into the moment, he figured he needed to do some research. And if all else failed he could enlist Louis for his information.
He heard a clicking of heels against the laminate floor and looked up. She hadn't noticed him -she was in the middle of a walk and talk- which gave him an advantage. He noticed as soon as she spotted him, however.
She couldn't help the smile that fell across her face as she saw him leaning against the wall of her office door.
"You found me," she greeted him with a small smile.
"The internet is full of information, Donna Paulsen with a BFA, MFA and Ph.D. from Juilliard and NYU's Tisch School of the Arts," Harvey greeted her.
"You can't teach at a university without a PhD," Donna said as she unlocked her door. Leaving the door open as she walked in, he followed behind.
"Pretty sure my math professor here didn't have a Ph.D.," Harvey said off hand. "Does that mean I should call you doctor?"
"God no," she shook her head. "I'm not one of those sticklers. Why use a doctorate when I can use my feminine wiles and wit?"
He closed the door with a laugh and watched her walk around her desk, tossing her bag on the floor and kicking her heels off underneath her desk.
"I think this internet research bumps you up to the stalker level again," she said with a laugh.
His eyes narrowed, and he sighed.
"Louis didn't help you with your research?" she asked.
"He told me your first name and asked to be my wingman," Harvey told her. "The internet doesn't ask me for things. Although, your department picture does not do you justice."
She laughed and shook her head.
"You don't think I look like a hand-drawn, bald, 'no picture available' face?" she smirked. "I told them to thin the face a little. Guess they didn't listen."
She was funny and kept up with his banter, he mused.
"You can sit. Despite what it says on the websites the students use, I don't bite," Donna said as she gestured to the chairs in her office.
Harvey nodded but didn't follow the instructions just yet. Instead, he wordlessly handed her a bag and a coffee from behind his back.
"One triple, non-fat, sugar-free mocha latte with extra whipped cream," he said with a slight amount of flourish.
"You are a prince among men," she said as she took the cup and inhaled the sweet yet bitter aroma as she took the lid off the coffee. She dipped her finger into the whipped cream that still lingered at the top of the coffee and sighed.
Harvey looked around her office and noticed the pristine cleanliness. She didn't have many knickknacks, three diplomas hung on the wall behind her chair. He did a double take at the chair.
"We have the same chair," he noted.
"It's comfortable after hours of being on your feet," Donna shrugged as she adjusted herself to get more comfortable on the chair. "What's in the bag?"
"You're not curious enough to find out for yourself?" he asked.
She looked at him, the bag, and back to him. Carefully she took the bakery's sticker off the bag and peered inside. She bit her lip as she stuck her hand in and Harvey watched her eyes take in the pastry.
"How did you know?" she asked with a gasp.
"They know your order. The woman smirked at me as if she was in on some kind of secret," Harvey said as he sat down.
"Long, black hair, tied up in a bun?" Donna asked.
Harvey nodded.
"She's a student in my next class. She always brings me this on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I get an hour break and spend it here in my office because its in my contract," Donna sighed. "Maybe you're a few spots up from prince with this addition."
Harvey couldn't help the grin. He watched her lean back and savour the triple chocolate croissant. As she made headway on the pastry he looked around the office. He noted that her bookshelves were filled to the brim with literature books, acting manuals and a worn set of ballet shoes.
"Tell me what you found on the internet," Donna said between bites of the pastry.
"I went on your department website," Harvey shrugged.
"You'd make for a really awful stalker," Donna told him.
"I did make my associate pull your thesis and all your research in the academic journals. Not that I understood it," he said.
"Don't like British playwriting in the 18th century?" Donna laughed.
"Can't say I've ever watched it," Harvey shrugged.
"Oh, you've watched it. You just don't know it," Donna nodded.
He nodded, taking her word for it.
"I learned about you, you know," Donna said as she picked a chunk of dark chocolate from the middle of the croissant.
"My profile at the law firm?" Harvey asked.
"Unlike you, I'd make a great stalker," Donna shook her head.
Harvey raised and eyebrow, and she took it as an invitation to continue.
"Stop me if my internet research lied to me," she began. "Fifth in your class at Harvard law, first in your class right here. Well, NYU, not Tisch per say. Worked for the DA's office for two years and switched to Pearson Hardman almost a decade ago. Since then, you haven't lost a case and you're said to be the city's best closer. Forbes says your one of the most sought-after, top millionaire bachelors in New York City, and you turn 30 in two weeks and two days."
Harvey leaned back in the chair and nodded.
"You're good," he noted.
"I take pride in my ability to do thorough research," Donna noted.
"I feel like I should have hired my private investigator instead of doing the research myself," Harvey said.
"Why research when the source is right here in front of you?" Donna smirked.
"How come you write in blue pen?" he asked suddenly. His eyes had fixated on an essay laying across her desk. Her elegant and very legible script was written in blue ink rather than the harsh red he remembered on his essays in his academic career.
She finished her croissant and took a healthy drink of her coffee before she attempted to answer his question.
"When they see red they don't read it. Blue is much softer despite my sometimes scathing marks," Donna shrugged.
"Maybe I'll try that technique on my associate," Harvey said.
"I doubt coddling your associate is the image you try to maintain," Donna said. "My students have fragile, artistic egos. Which I why I have to soothe them with the colour of ink I use."
Harvey watched as she leaned across the expanse between her chair and the floor where her bag lay. She pulled folders out of her bag and tossed them onto a shelf behind her.
"Lay it on me," she said as she leaned back in her chair.
"What?" he asked.
"I hear Harvey Specter has a certain amount of charm. So, lay it on me since that was the only question you seemed to have," she smirked as she crossed her hands on her stomach.
Donna paused mid-sentence as a student appeared at her door. Harvey turned and watched as the student stood, shifting from side to side. He turned back to her and she looked at the clock on her desktop computer.
"Office hours, the contractual obligation," was all she supplied.
"I'll make myself scarce," Harvey nodded.
"Give me fifteen minutes," she said. "It will give you time to prepare."
He stood and shook his head, not containing the grin that crossed his lips. Of course she'd get the last say. He nodded and buttoned his suit jacket. He nodded to the student and smirked over the younger woman's head as he shut the door to give them a bit of privacy. Of course the door didn't stop him from hearing what the student said: that your boyfriend Doctor P? He's fine. He held himself proud as he roamed the hallway her office was in, checking out the various pictures of her teaching on the wall next to her office.
~z~
The student left ten minutes later than he was promised and Harvey poked his head in to find her laughing.
"I'm sorry, I just imagined you doing that as a kid. You had this wide-eyed look that reminded me of my nephew when he peeks around the corner trying to stay up past his bed time at Christmas," Donna said as she beckoned him back in.
"I'm glad I can be so amusing?" he said with a slight question in his voice.
"She took longer than I expected, so I have to leave," she said, and he looked at his watch.
"Teaching?" he asked.
"Until 10," she nodded.
He looked at his watch noting it was quickly approaching 6pm. Four hours of teaching was brutal, he thought to himself.
She stood up from her chair and he watched as she slipped in her heels again. She gained a few inches and as he stepped closer he realised her heels made her level with him.
"Running on only a croissant and coffee?" Harvey asked.
"I have a snack for the break," she shrugged.
He followed her wordlessly after she grabbed a book from her shelf and shoved it in her bag. Instead of parting at the door he walked side by side with her down the long stretch of hallways.
"Why me?" she asked quietly.
There was little activity in the hall, but she felt like this conversation had to be talked about before they made any more moves forward.
Harvey tilted his head and wordlessly asked what.
"I may be the top professor in my departments but I don't make nearly as much as you. I'm sure my condo could fit in your condo's kitchen. You could have any woman in New York City yet you choose to see me outside the coffee shop and you barely even know me," Donna rambled. Her hands were gesturing between the two of them. As if there was a visible difference he didn't seem to take notice of right away.
"You intrigue me," he shrugged. "You seem to be the only woman I've met who can one-up me on any topic."
"You're good," she said with a small smile.
He shook his head and looked over at her.
"Not a line. At least not a line I've used before," he told her.
"Really?" she asked only slightly skeptical.
He nodded as they came to a stop at the last door in the hallway.
"What about tomorrow," he asked.
"What about it?" she asked as she looked in the window of the classroom.
"Are you free at any point?" he wondered.
"From two to almost four," she nodded.
"I have a client at three," he told her.
"What are you asking?" she wondered. She knew what she interpreted it as but wondered if they were on the same wave length.
"Have coffee with me," he said.
"As in?" Donna trailed off.
"As in a date for poor college students but it's only because we have a small window of opportunity," he said. He watched as she tilted her head and noticed the moment she made her decision. "If we had longer, I'd take you to lunch or dinner."
"Okay," she nodded.
"Okay?" he parroted.
She nodded and repeated her answer. She watched a genuine smile appear on his face.
"Now you have to go because I have to go teach," she said with her own smile. "And you probably have whatever it is white collar lawyers do at six o'clock."
"I only know your department phone number," he said just as she was about to open the door.
She took her hand off the handle, and her fingers disappeared into her bag before coming out with a slip of a business card.
She handed him the card, his fingers brushing along hers as he plucked it from her fingers. She had already written her cell phone number on the back of the card. She was sneaky but so was he.
"Smooth move," she said with a smile.
He watched as she opened the door to the classroom and heard her greeting the students. He watched as she reached the podium before turning and heading for the exit with an extra spring in his step. Who needed a wingman when he could use his own charm, he thought to himself.
Harvey walked off the elevator with a carefully concealed spring in his step. He nodded at Jessica and the older woman did a double take as he walked away. He didn't get very far, Jessica catching him halfway to his office.
"Should I ask who or what put the spring in your step?" Jessica asked.
"You can ask but what you really should know is I'm not going to answer," Harvey smirked.
"Mike isn't with you, so you didn't win a case," Jessica observed.
Harvey took his messages from his secretary and walked into his office. Jessica followed and sat at the edge of his desk as he sat in his chair. He looked up at Jessica and shook his head.
As Jessica stared him down and Harvey pointedly ignored him, Louis walked in with his nose buried in a file.
"Harvey I know you don't want a wing man but I know what Donna likes more than you do... Jessica, hi," Louis trailed off as he noticed their boss and Harvey's look.
"Donna," Jessica said with a smirk. "What's she like?"
"None of your business and I swear to everything you hold dear, Louis, if you say anything we're done," Harvey said as he looked between both of them.
Louis opened his mouth and closed it as soon as Harvey pointed a finger towards him.
"I'll just come back later," Louis finally said as he scurried away.
Harvey pushed away from his desk, and Jessica followed him with her eyes.
"You like this woman," she noted. "You're never secretive unless you like them. Which has never happened."
Harvey turned to the windows of his office and sighed.
"I don't even know the woman," he said. "All I know is her complicated coffee order, and she's some kind of ridiculously smart associate professor who has the same chair as me," Harvey said.
"Same chair?" Jessica asked as she raised an eyebrow and folder her arms across her chest.
"I just came from her office," Harvey shrugged. "Yesterday she said if I could find her, I could see her."
"You found her," Jessica noted.
"I brought her coffee and a croissant, and we got to know each other until a student interrupted," Harvey told her.
"Yet you walked in here with a spring in your step like you just won your biggest case," Jessica smirked. She noticed the coffee cup next to his laptop and nodded to it.
"Is that where you're going?" she asked.
"It's where we met," Harvey nodded. He had stopped in for his latte before returning to his office.
"They have good croissants," Jessica nodded.
"Wait, you knew about this place, too?" Harvey asked.
"Harvey it's five blocks from the office. I'm surprised you didn't know about it sooner," Jessica laughed. "What's her name?"
"Donna Paulsen," Harvey said quietly.
"As in the former prima ballerina of the New York City Ballet?" Jessica asked.
"I don't know. She teaches mostly graduates in the Department of Dance but she's also in the Department of Drama with undergrads," Harvey shrugged his shoulders. "She went to Juilliard and NYU."
"Red hair, tall and graceful?" Jessica asked.
Harvey nodded.
"I always wondered where she went," Jessica mused.
"She left?" Harvey asked. He was confused now.
"She left the company suddenly and there's been little mention of her since in the arts world. She's been under everyone's nose this whole time," Jessica said.
Harvey sat between his baseballs on the ledge of his window railing.
"The city's best closer and one of the city's greatest ballerinas, never thought I'd see the day," Jessica smirked.
"I need to work on this case," Harvey said.
"And by case you mean to find out more about your date," Jessica noted. "I know when I'm not wanted. Call me if you have any questions."
Harvey waved her out the door and watched Jessica shut the door to his office. A sign he wanted some alone time. Time spent researching the woman who captivated him the moment she set the paper down and pinned him with her dark eyes.
He had her coffee and her croissant waiting for her as she walked in the door. The smile she gave him was worth it as she sat down across from him.
"How long have you been here?" she asked.
"Five minutes," Harvey shrugged. "You look different."
"Is that your way of telling someone they look like crap?" She asked between a sip of coffee.
"It's a neutral observation," he said. His fingers played with the paper cup. The only hint of nervousness he allowed to show.
She rubbed her fingers against her temple and sighed. She put a smile on her face and folded her hands on the table. She whispered an apology and he shook his head.
"I meant to get here on time but the student from yesterday came back with a new thesis that was even worse than yesterday's," she told him.
"Did you get any sleep last night?" he asked.
"More than usual actually," she nodded. She looked up and noticed he was studying her more openly than he had in the past few times they had made eye contact and conversation.
"You found out more about me," she deduced.
"My boss seems to know you pretty well," he nodded. "Prima ballerina for the New York City Ballet, honorary artist of the Royal Ballet, and you gave it all up to teach students?"
She looked him over and noticed there was no judgment, only open curiosity on his face. She looked down at the table and she began to fidget with her hands.
He leaned in closer and his hands extended past his cup. His outstretched fingers touched her knuckles, soft skin meeting his calloused fingertips as her folded hands held one of his fingers in a light touch across the table. He watched her shoulders sag in relief and held his fingers in her grasp for a moment longer before releasing them.
"My father never missed a show," she began quietly. Her voice was low enough to have a private conversation in the back corner of the coffee shop.
"He was proud of my sisters but I was always the favourite," she smiled fondly already lost in memories. The smile turned as she looked up at him. "It was my last show in the city before I was supposed to start at the Royal Ballet for two years. Cortland to New York City is an icy drive."
Harvey licked his lips, and he swallowed through the lump in his throat. He could deduce the facts.
"After the final show, I stayed in Cortland until my oldest sister and her family moved back a month later. Her kids helped soften the blow for our mom. There wasn't anything else I could do so I got my doctorate and eventually people forgot about Donna Paulsen the prima ballerina and I was the strict, hard ass professor at NYU. Undergrad and Grad students can't escape me if they want the best education."
"You teach ballet though," Harvey noted.
"Teaching isn't the same as performing. Just because I gave up on the art doesn't mean I don't want to share what I know. Maybe one day an American can get the highest ballet distinction."
She looked up at Harvey and noticed how he didn't seem repulsed or downcast with her story. If anything, he looked understanding over any other emotion.
"This was not how today was supposed to go," she said. "I'm sorry. I should go."
Before he realised she was off and had forgone her coffee and croissant. Leaving his own coffee there at the table he moved to intercept her.
"You like leaving quickly," Harvey said as he caught her and stepped in front of her to halt her forward progress.
"Harvey," Donna tried to sidestep him, but he moved in front of her.
"Donna," he countered. He placed a hand on her wrist and watched her shoulders slump in defeat.
"I'm not a charity case," she told him.
"What gave you the idea I thought you were?" he asked.
"The look you gave me," Donna told him. She ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head slightly.
"That was a look of understanding. I'm sorry if it looked like pity," Harvey said.
"Understanding?" Donna asked.
"Come back inside, and I'll tell you why," Harvey tried.
"Are you bribing me?" she asked with a slight laugh.
"Depends. Is it working?" he wondered.
"A little, yeah," she nodded.
His fingers closed around her wrist and brought her back to the coffee shop. Their coffee and her croissant were still waiting in the back corner.
He pulled out her chair and sat her down. He removed her bag from her shoulder and moved it to the back of her chair. He wrapped one of her hands around her coffee and sat down opposite of her. As he watched her drink the coffee in front of her, he took a minute to look at the time.
"Give me a minute?" he asked.
She nodded and he pulled out his phone. She wondered who Mike was but didn't question him as he talked on the phone. Instead she picked at the croissant and gave a small smile as the familiar taste of chocolate and flakey, buttery goodness met her taste buds.
As soon as the call began it ended, and he turned back to her.
"The day I got my promotion to junior partner is the day my father had a heart attack," Harvey began.
Donna's brow furrowed and her hands froze as Harvey began his tale.
"I was working on a major case within the firm. He called a few days before but I was too busy to have an actual conversation with him so he said he'd call back later. Three days later instead of a phone call from him I got a phone call from my dad's friend," Harvey said. He didn't tell this story, ever. Despite it having been five years ago it was still hard to say out loud. He continued to stare at the table top and his fingers tapped a rhythm.
Her hand covered his and ceased the rhythm.
"I'm sorry," she said as her fingers brushed against his.
Harvey nodded and looked up noticing her biting her lip and staring at their hands.
"We're quite the pair," she said with a quiet laugh.
He couldn't help the small laugh as hers rang out softly.
"The phone call was to your associate?" she asked.
"You sure you're not my stalker?" he asked.
"It's 3:15 and you're still here despite the meeting with your client that was supposed to start 15 minutes ago," Donna deduced.
"You listen well," Harvey nodded.
"Occupational hazard," she shrugged.
"I'll walk you to school," he said.
"How long have you been waiting to use that line?" she asked.
"A while," he smirked.
She shook her head and released his hand before picking up her bag. He picked up their full coffees and dumped them in the trash before ordering two more of the same. She made to protest but he told her that he insisted. He handed her the newly made, extra hot, triple, non-fat, sugar free mocha latte before holding open the door and exiting the coffee shop.
Their walk was made in silence, their arms brushing as they avoided the other pedestrians and tourists. She looked up at him twice before making the decision to take his hand in hers. She noted it was a good decision after she watched the smile play on his lips and his grip on her hand tightened until they reached the building that encased the world-famous dramatic arts school and her office.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"It was just coffee," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Next time will be better."
"Next time?" she asked. Her voice raised an octave in surprise.
"I'll wine and dine you," he announced.
"I'll have to play dress up," she told him.
"Is that supposed to be a turn-off?" he asked and was rewarded with a laugh and a shake of her head.
"Okay," she nodded.
He gave her a toothy grin, and he nodded, proud of himself.
She smiled, her eyes narrowing slightly as the corner of her eyes wrinkled slightly. She tugged slightly on his hand and the balance was upset. He couldn't be mad since she ended up closer to him, her lips on the corner of his lips. He turned his head slightly to indulge both him and her. She acquiesced and he could feel the smile against his lips as she pressed her lips against his in a firmer kiss.
"Good night, Harvey," she whispered against his lips.
"Night, Donna," he said as he gave her a soft smile.
She watched as he walked away, turning back as he walked back the way he came. She couldn't help touching her lips and smiling fondly at his retreating form.
Two weeks later he made good on his promise to wine and dine her. Of course between the two weeks he brought her coffee with and without the croissant. Sometimes he'd give her a scone instead and claim he was making her branch out and try new things.
Tonight he had Ray pick her up and bring her to the office since she ended her day before he did.
He waited just passed the security scanners and watched as she took in the entry way of Pearson Hardman.
"Hey," he greeted her.
"Hi," she smiled.
He took in the black dress, simple but sophisticated, and her long hair flowing down her back. He placed his hand at the small of her back and brought her passed security with a simple nod of his head.
She waited in his office as he finished a meeting in the conference room next door. She was browsing his record collection, looking but not touching. She didn't expect the woman to walk in.
"Donna Paulsen?" the woman asked, and Donna nodded. "Jessica Pearson."
"Harvey's boss," Donna nodded. "He told me about you."
"I was a big fan of yours," Jessica noted.
"Thanks," Donna said with a small smile.
"I hear you teach now," Jessica said as she entered the space and sat on the arm of the couch by Donna.
"Just down the street at Tisch," she nodded.
"Does Harvey know you also own the coffee shop he frequents?" Jessica asked.
"How?" Donna trailed off.
"Anyone who has followed your career knows your silhouette. The pictures and paintings on the wall, they're of you aren't they?"
"I've been trying to think of a creative way to tell him," she said as she nodded.
Jessica smirked.
"You could always tell him tomorrow morning," Jessica noted.
"You're pretty sure of this date being a success story," Donna said as she looked Jessica in the eye.
"Harvey's going home before midnight again, and he's actually taking breaks and not working himself to death," Jessica confided in the younger woman. "I'd say he likes you as much as you like him."
Donna shook her head and laughed to herself.
"I'll bear that in mind," she said.
"Good," Jessica nodded. "I'll even give him a half day tomorrow for a birthday present to him."
Donna bit her lip, and her cheeks flushed a shade of pink.
"Ready?" Harvey said suddenly appearing in the doorway of his office.
Donna and Jessica both looked up, and Donna nodded.
As Harvey waited at the edge of his office, Donna turned to face Jessica.
"I'll come back and give you and Louis a signed Playbill," she said.
"I'd like that," Jessica nodded. "I know Louis would, too."
Donna smiled and nodded once before following Harvey out the door.
Jessica watched as Harvey took Donna's hand and led her to the elevators. She smiled, he had it bad for the fiery red head.
The next morning he watched her form as she moved seamlessly around her kitchen, light on her feet as he figured any dancer is. He watched her feet and noticed the Roman numerals in the light. He had seen them last night but had other things on his mind. She looked graceful in the early morning light as she moved around his form. The only light coming in from the glass panels on one wall of her condo. Her hair was piled up in a messy bun, seemingly escaping the hair tie he watched her put in her hair after slipping on his button down and a pair of leggings. Since she stole his shirt he resorted to his undershirt and boxers as he sat on a barstool at the counter in her kitchen. The button down was rolled up to her forearms and he noticed the tattoos at her wrist. The feather covered her wrist from one side to the other in a slight diagonal direction, and two small ravens the size of a 25-cent piece were on the other wrist. Too entranced by her movements and trying to recall the symbolism of her tattoos, he barely noticed her sliding the cup across the counter to him a few minutes later.
"What is this?" He asked as he looked down. She had made a half attempt with drawing a leaf in the foam of his coffee. It looked rather sad which made his lips upturn slightly in amusement.
"I thought you of all people would recognise a cup of coffee," Donna said as she raised her eyebrows.
Harvey looked at the coffee and back up at her.
"It's not poisoned," she said. She sighed and reached across the counter, displaying the small raven tattoo to him as she took a small sip of it. The sad attempt at the leaf expanded and shifted with her sip. "See? It's even vanilla spice. Your favourite."
Harvey watched her for a moment, licking her lips and brushing a stray piece of hair that escaped her hair tie back from her face. She gave him a small smile before turning back to the coffee machine on the counter. As she had her back turned, he took a tentative sip of the coffee. His face morphed into surprise behind the tassé of coffee.
"Surprised I know how to make a good cup of coffee?" Donna asked as she watched his reflection in the stainless steel of the complicated coffee contraption.
"I'm wondering what other talents you possess, actually," Harvey said. "And whether or not I should steal you from NYU to be my assistant."
"A glorified coffee maker or a professor," Donna said as she turned around to face him. She leaned against the counter and shook her head. "Despite my hatred for the bureaucracy of the secondary education system, I do love my job."
"You like teaching all those kids with fragile egos?" Harvey asked.
"My hotness on ratemyprofessor is a 4 out of 4," Donna smirked.
"Your overall is a 2 out of 4," Harvey pointed out.
"I only teach the best. If they can't handle me how are they supposed to make it past auditions?" Donna shrugged.
"Sometimes I think you're the artistic, female version of myself," Harvey said as he took a sip of his coffee again.
"Or are you the stuffy suit and tie version of me?" Donna said as she waved the ground coffee at him.
"Touché," he smirked.
Donna gave him a small laugh before turning to make her own coffee. When she finished she hopped up on the barstool next to him and turned to face him. Her feet shifted to his lap as he watched her and she hid a smile behind her own tassé.
He traced the Roman numerals on her feet, and she looked down as he studied the date.
"Your dad?" he asked.
She nodded.
"The feather and the ravens, too," she said quietly. "And the coffee shop."
"The what?" Harvey asked.
"Le Chat? I own it," she said.
"That's why the coffee tastes the same," he realised.
She nodded.
"Why The Cat?" He asked.
She laughed and set her tassé down on the counter.
"The only thing I wanted but never got was a cat. Cats weren't very productive on a farm so I got a horse instead. My dad said when I was older I could get a cat but under his house I had to be happy with the horse," Donna shrugged.
"I can't have a real cat since I'm at work 60 to 80 hours a week. So, a coffee shop worked. But if I called it The Cat it sounds like some kind of whore house. So, Le Chat."
Harvey couldn't help but laugh and laughed harder as her brows furrowed.
"When Louis first introduced me to your coffee shop that was the first thing that went through my mind," Harvey said.
She shook her head and joined in the laughter.
"By the way, Jessica said to tell you that you get a half day at work," Donna told him.
"Really?" he said as he perked up.
"Mmh, hmm," she nodded. "A birthday present."
"She remembered?" he asked.
"I have a feeling she never forgets," she told him.
He watched her as she smiled at him.
"Happy birthday, Harvey," she said quietly.
She suppressed a shiver as his finger trailed up from her foot to her leg and up to her thigh. She set the coffee down before it shattered and abandoned her own barstool in favour of his lap. Her arms moved around his shoulders and her hands entwined with each other as she leaned in closer to him.
His fingers slid along her hips, fingers brushing against soft skin and thin lycra at the same time. As his fingers found the curve of her waist he tightened his grip and tilted his head just as she looked up. She tasted of coffee and chocolate, two flavours quickly becoming as addictive as winning his cases. When every crevice had been explored, every taste mapped and memorised he broke to the surface again and watched as she smiled. She always seemed to bite her lip which made him want her more.
"Bedroom?" she asked.
He nodded and stood up with her still wrapped around him. Her arms tightened around his neck and her legs wrapped tight around his waist as he easily carried her seemingly weightless form back to her bed.
~z~
Her fingers ran through his bed mused hair and she smiled as he leaned into to touch. He lay propped on his stomach, his upper body resting on a mound of pillows as she lay beside him on her back. His button-down covered her form as she wore it backwards. Wearing it was a loose definition. He had draped it over her after getting distracted one too many times as he tried to make conversation.
"When do you have time to manage the coffee shop?" he asked. His finger traced the feather's lines marked into her skin as she shifted her head on the pillow to look up at him. Her hair made a halo of red locks on top of the crisp, pristine, white pillow case.
"The business school graduates at NYU oversee the operations and expense for their internship practice. I just own the place and occasionally make new things for them to put on the menu," she said.
"Ever think of becoming an entrepreneur?" he asked with a laugh.
She shrugged her shoulders and watched as he studied her. The morning light seeped through the curtains and lit up the room. It cast shadows on his face that defined his angled features. He looked younger in the mix of shadows and mid-morning sun.
"Why me?" he asked. Echoing her sentiments from weeks ago, he wanted to know why she had chosen him of all people to attach herself to him so freely and easily.
"You're the first person who didn't mind a little puzzle to solve. And when you figured it out you became more intrigued as opposed to running in the opposite direction," she told him. She bit her lip and waited for it to sink in. "You ran after me when I tried to skip out. No one has been interested in Donna Paulsen the person, expect you."
His hand made its way to her cheek and cupped it gently. Leaning down he pressed his lips to hers gently. He wasn't good with emotions but somehow felt the need to express them wordlessly with this woman. Somehow between their first meeting and now she became more than just a simple conquest, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. As he pulled back and watched her smile bloom and her eyes open slowly, blinking rapidly to adjust to his closeness, he gave her a genuine smile.
"You should probably shower," she whispered and countered her suggestion by using her legs to pull him closer. She was surprisingly strong, but he reminded himself she was still dancing as many hours as he was in meetings every week.
"You're giving me mixed signals," he said as he dipped his head low and buried it in the crook of her neck. She smelled of coffee and vanilla and tasted the same as his lips touched her neck. A hint of tangy salt mixed well with the coffee and vanilla. Her deep, quiet laugh only spurned him on to continue what he was doing as opposed to getting up and taking a shower.
"Harvey," she said quietly.
His hmm was muffled by her skin as he edged himself lower.
"I have work, and you have work," she sighed as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.
"And?" he asked.
"I'll make you a deal," she tried.
"I'm listening," he told her.
"Shower now, and I promise I'll make it worth your while later," she promised.
"Bribery already?" he laughed and lifted himself up to look her in the eyes.
"Your boss is going to think I'm a bad influence if you're late on your half day," she said.
"Fine," he sighed.
She smiled at his pout and lifted her head up to kiss him quickly before slipping out from underneath him.
"Removing the temptation," she said as she took his button down and put it back on as she circled the bed. "I'll make you some breakfast."
"Ray is going to drop off a suit," Harvey said as he fished out his Blackberry from her nightstand.
"I'll make sure to put some pants on", Donna said as she watched him most likely text his driver before heading out the door of her bedroom.
"What is in this?" He asked as he speared another piece of the frittata she had made in the time it took him to shower. He was thankful she had gender-neutral smells in her shower. He could take smelling like a hint of lemons.
"Vegetables, eggs, and cheese," she smirked as she ate her own.
"Smart ass, I can see that," Harvey shook his head.
"Onions, spinach, peppers," Donna said.
"You could make millions as a chef," he said. "Maybe you should become a chef, professor, coffee maker."
"Millions?" she asked skeptically.
"I know people who would pay you millions for stuff like this every day," he nodded.
"Including you?" she wondered.
"I would," he nodded.
She grinned.
"Luckily for you, you don't have to pay for my services," she said as she too his plate from him. "Get dressed."
"Bossy," he said as he got up from the barstool.
"Dress, work, our deal. I'll even make some cake for your birthday," she said as a motivator.
He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he purposefully brushed himself against her as he left. He heard the dishes hit the sink louder than necessary. He laughed to himself: mission accomplished.
He was dressed in a spare suit he always had Ray carry in the car. She watched his form in the mirror as he tied his tie in a knot.
"You doing anything later besides making me cake?" he asked.
"This afternoon I promised my students I'd be at Le Chat for their intro paragraph help. They promised not to stand me up. You?" she asked.
He turned to face her and held out his hands in question.
"You pass inspection," she nodded.
"Two negotiations and a merger," he said.
"Break a leg," she said quietly as he walked over to where she leaned in the doorway.
"Break a leg?" He asked with a small chuckle.
"Well, you seem like the type to not need luck so break a leg works as a motivating sentiment," she shrugged.
Sometimes he wondered how she knew him so well.
"See you later?" he asked.
"It's a deal," she nodded.