They walked through the bullpen together. Associates looked up, eyes widening. Donna, from her desk, gave a single, knowing blink. The receptionist’s bronze helmet swiveled. Trevor felt the weight of their stares, but it wasn’t the weight of suspicion. It was curiosity. Who is that with Harvey Specter?
“He’ll see me,” Trevor said, leaning on the polished granite counter. “Tell him it’s about the ‘Dumont file.’ He’ll know.” suits trevor
For a long moment, Harvey didn’t move. Then, slowly, he shrugged off his jacket. He unbuttoned his cuffs. He put on the Zegna. They walked through the bullpen together
Silence. Harvey’s expression was a perfect, polished mask. eyes widening. Donna