Harvey Specter Apartment Suits Novels & Stories

“Yeah. Try to find out where they brought it and what charges they are preparing to press against us. If we catch it in time, I can speak with our judge and ensure that the case gets settled under his adjudication. If we miss that it’s going to be complicated.” Harvey is already rumbling again, just adding to my anger as I see a beauty in a bomber jacket, and totally wrapped in a thick scarf and a wool hat. I laugh to myself as I see that she is declining a pushy dock worker who wants to help her down the few steps, no one would be struggling to descend. As she turns towards me and walks over the wooden bridge, she rolls her eyes with a big smile. “Araaaawn,” Harvey moans, making me realize

He quickly cleaned up the room and then chose a dark suit to wear. In fact, he was afraid Calantha would look at him like an albino from his hair to his skin and clothes if he wore a white suit. Anyway, he and Calantha had never met, she wasn't like the high-ranking employees of Star Corporation, they knew that his family liked white and always wore white clothes. When the clock struck eight o'clock in the evening, Harvey and Lucasta appeared in front of the Borage Flower restaurant. The moment both of them got off the car, all the eyes of the people around were focused on them because both of them were so beautiful and luxurious.

, and bankrolled by a silent investor who’d been dead for nine years. Not a single trail pointing back to me, just the way I liked it. So while the Capones strutted around, pretending this old speakeasy was neutral, I sat there knowing every brick, every camera, every bottle, every man on the payroll was mine and they were negotiating on my carpet without even realizing it. I leaned back in my chair, letting the dim lights catch on the colour of my suit. Midnight charcoal, tailored within an inch of perfection. Unlike the Capones’ favorite funeral-black uniforms.

"Unless you want to walk away. Pretend last night didn't happen. Go back to ignoring me." Harvey's eyes flash. "No." "Then we talk to them today. All four of us." He's quiet again, processing. Then he sits up, the sheets falling away to reveal his lean, muscled torso. "I need to go," he says, already reaching for his clothes scattered across my bedroom floor. "Get home before they notice I didn't come back last night." "Do you live with them?" "Penthouse. We share it." He pulls on his pants, his movements efficient. "Has its advantages for business. Less advantageous when you're sneaking around with the woman they're both dating."

"Give them the absolute best dish they've ever tasted." Harper didn't offer a reply. Her mind was already shifting gears, leaving the intoxicating, complicated, and dangerous world of these three men far behind her. She snatched her crisp, newly minted Head Chef uniform from the black presentation box resting on the mahogany nightstand, slipping out of the penthouse suite without a single backward glance.

Harvey couldn't help but marvel at the ostentation of the place, ostentatious yet mediocre and cheap. "Why did Mr. Reed invite me here?" Harvey quickly got to the point. Mr. Reed smiled friendly, assessing the man before him. Dressed impeccably, exuding an air of calm yet icy detachment, not to mention Harvey had been managing the Susan family for the past few years.

*[SFX: ELEVATOR. THEN SILENCE. THEN DOOR.]* *8:47 AM. [SFX: METAL DETECTOR. THEN FOOTSTEPS. THEN TENSION.]* Criminal Courts Building. 12th floor. Not public entrance. Back. Levinson’s badge. “Counsel and clients. Judge Harmon. Chambers.” Me. Black suit. “Fuck you professional.” Susan’s words. Fits like armor. Doesn’t feel like armor.

I didn’t want to hear the Joker name. “Sergeant Harvey,” he called him by his name, placing both hands into pocket, a clear gesture of defying his status. “We cannot touch her properties because—“ he paused. The heat in my body doubled. The air thickened with suspense. I was eager to hear the words come out of his mouth. “She’s the owner of this apartment.” I watched at once as both their lips and jaw went down. Motion ceased. They stood like statues gawking at someone.

Khaid, however, remained utterly calm, meeting Specter's intense gaze. “A feast, Specter? That is truly generous” Khaid responded, acknowledging the challenge. “But I think business first. Where is the item? I trust you didn't leave it in the storage area.’ Specter gestured expansively toward the hidden entrance of the private residence built into the warehouse structure. “Of course not! It is in my private chamber, safe. Come in, Nicholas. Let us retire to my throne room. We will discuss Metropaul's insolence over a single, quiet drink.”

The drive back to the industrial district was swift and silent. After arriving, we walked up the four flights of stairs to Apartment 4A. I stood in the doorway of her bedroom, my hands tucked into my pockets, watching her fold her clothes. "You are packing an excessive amount of neutral colors.” I observed, nodding toward a stack of grey sweaters. “Do you expect a need for camouflage in the penthouse?” "I am packing for work." She shot back, zipping the duffel bag. "Not all of us wear bespoke three-piece suits to the office, Doctor."