Chapter 41: The New Office
The lobby smelled wrong.
Not bad. Just... different. Pearson Hardman had smelled like money and old wood and the kind of confidence that comes from decades of winning. This place—Hardman & Associates, twentieth floor of a Midtown building that wasn't quite prestigious enough—smelled like ambition mixed with desperation. Fresh paint over older sins.
I stepped off the elevator carrying a single box. Everything else I owned professionally fit on a thumb drive. The receptionist looked up, smiled too brightly.
"Mr. Roden? Mr. Hardman is expecting you. Conference room A."
The hallways were narrower than Pearson Hardman's. The art on the walls was prints, not originals. But the office was busy—associates hurrying between offices, phones ringing, the hum of a firm trying to prove itself.
[ **System Notification: Environment Analysis Active** ]
Firm Stability Assessment: Financial indicators suggest 8-12 month runway Growth Trajectory: Aggressive expansion, high risk/high reward Personnel Quality: Mixed. Talented but resentful workforce
I dismissed the notification with a thought. Didn't need the System to tell me what I already knew—Hardman had built this place on anger and ambition, which meant it would either explode into success or collapse into failure. No middle ground.
Conference room A held eleven people. Eight associates, three partners, all watching as I walked in. Hardman stood at the head of the table, expensive suit, predator's smile.
"Gentlemen. And lady." He nodded toward a woman in the back—mid-thirties, dark hair, Harvard ring. "This is Scott Roden. Some of you know his reputation. Nine months at Pearson Hardman. Beat Harvey Specter's golden boy in open court. Built client relationships that made Jessica Pearson nervous enough to force him out."
The associates shifted. A few looked impressed. Most looked competitive. The woman—Jennifer Park, my memory supplied—studied me with calculated interest that made my instincts itch.
Hardman continued. "Scott, meet your new colleagues. I recruited them for the same reason I recruited you—they were too good for the firms that rejected them. Too independent. Too hungry. Too willing to win."
He let that settle, then dropped his cards on the table.
"I'm going to be honest about what we're building here. I don't believe in corporate bullshit about teamwork and firm culture." His voice went cold. "I want to hurt Jessica Pearson. I want to humiliate Harvey Specter. I want to prove that Pearson Hardman succeeded because of me, not despite me. And I want my name back on top of New York legal hierarchy."
Nobody spoke. Hardman smiled.
"Help me do that, you'll get everything you want. Partnership. Money. Reputation. A seat at the table when we destroy them." He paused. "Anyone have a problem with that?"
Silence. I watched the other associates—they were eating it up. Validation for their rejections, purpose for their resentment. Hardman was selling revenge as career advancement, and they were buying.
"Good." Hardman gestured to the conference table. "Assignments are in your folders. Scott, stay behind."
The room emptied. Jennifer Park caught my eye as she left—not hostile, but assessing. Filing me away as competition.
[ **Blackmail Archive: Entry Created** ]
Jennifer Park - Harvard Law, dismissed from Cromwell & Hayes (white-shoe firm) Flags: Ambitious, calculated, potential rival Status: Monitor
Hardman closed the door. The smile vanished.
"You know why I hired you," he said.
"Because I beat Mike Ross."
"Because you beat Mike Ross and that means something to Harvey Specter." Hardman leaned against the table. "Harvey dismissed you. Barely looked at your work. Then his pet project couldn't handle you in court and suddenly you're a threat that needs removing."
I didn't correct him. Let him think it was all about Harvey.
"I'm not here for revenge," I said.
Hardman's expression didn't change. "Yes, you are. You just don't want to admit it yet." He opened a file folder. "Gerald Kessler. Fifty-two, former sales director at Meridian Industries. Fired after reporting expense fraud to HR. Filed wrongful termination suit against the company. Pearson Hardman represents Meridian."
He slid the folder across. "Harvey Specter assigned Mike Ross to handle it personally. Probably thinks it's easy—company has deep pockets, good lawyers, clean HR documentation. Mike will negotiate a nuisance settlement and move on."
I scanned the first page. Standard wrongful termination claim. Weak evidence, sympathetic plaintiff, corporate defendant with resources to bury him.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Win." Hardman's smile returned. "Make it hurt. Make it expensive. Make Harvey regret assigning his golden boy to fight you."
I closed the folder. The System was already running probability calculations in the background, but I didn't need them yet.
"When do I start?"
"You already have."
The office they gave me was corner adjacent—not quite partner level, but better than standard associate cube. Window overlooked Midtown traffic. Desk was empty except for the Kessler file and a new laptop, firm logo on the login screen.
I sat down, logged in, pulled up the case management system. Kessler's complaint was filed three weeks ago. Pearson Hardman's response was due in ten days. Discovery hadn't started.
My phone buzzed. Text from Donna: How's the first day?
I typed back: Different. Hardman's exactly what I expected.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. And what's that?
Dangerous. Useful. Temporary.
Be careful. Harvey's going to take this personally.
I smiled at that. Harvey takes everything personally when he's losing.
You're not fighting Harvey. You're fighting his case.
Same thing to him.
Dots again. Then: Dinner tonight? Neutral ground.
Yeah. Text me the place.
I set the phone down and opened the Kessler file properly. Fifty-three pages of documentation—termination letter, HR investigation reports, company expense policies, Kessler's original fraud report. Mike Ross would have read all of this already. Harvey would have given him strategy: settle fast, minimize exposure, protect the client relationship.
Standard Pearson Hardman playbook.
[ **Win Rate Calculator: Activated** ]
Case Analysis: Wrongful Termination - Kessler v. Meridian Industries Initial Success Probability: 62% (±18%) Key Variables: Documentary evidence, timeline consistency, HR policy compliance Primary Challenge: Corporate defense resources, lack of smoking gun Recommendation: Build retaliation pattern, establish timeline, exploit HR procedure gaps
Sixty-two percent. Better than I expected. But only if I could find the documentary evidence to prove retaliation beyond Kessler's testimony. Companies were good at covering their tracks—HR investigations that looked thorough but reached predetermined conclusions, termination letters that cited performance issues without mentioning fraud reports.
But they weren't perfect.
I started making notes. Timeline first—when did Kessler report the fraud? Who did he report it to? How long before his performance reviews suddenly went negative? The pattern would be there if I looked hard enough.
A knock on my door. Jennifer Park leaned against the frame.
"Settling in?"
"Getting there." I didn't invite her to sit.
She came in anyway, closing the door behind her. "I read about your case against Mike Ross. The Kerrigan acquisition. Impressive work."
"Thanks."
"Harvey Specter must have been furious."
I waited. She was building to something.
"I was at Cromwell & Hayes for two years," she said. "Made partner track my first year. Then I disagreed with a senior partner about case strategy on a major client matter. I was right—my approach would have won. But I made him look bad in front of the client." She smiled without warmth. "Three months later I was fired for 'cultural fit issues.'"
"That's rough."
"That's politics." She studied me. "Hardman recruited me because I'm good and because I hate the firms that rejected me. But you're different. You didn't get rejected—you got forced out after beating them."
"Your point?"
"My point is that you're Hardman's favorite right now. That puts a target on your back inside this firm, not just outside it." She straightened. "I'm not threatening you. I'm saying watch yourself. Some of these associates think taking you down will get them Hardman's attention."
She left before I could respond.
[ **Blackmail Archive: Updated** ]
Jennifer Park - Additional Notes Warning delivered re: internal firm competition Motive: Unclear. Genuine advice vs. strategic positioning Status: Potential ally or sophisticated threat. Monitor closely.
I turned back to the Kessler file, but Jennifer's words stuck. She was right about one thing—I had a target on my back. Harvey and Mike outside. Ambitious associates inside. Hardman using me as a weapon against his old firm.
Standard corporate law environment, just more honest about the knives.
My phone buzzed again. Text from Donna: Angelo's. 7pm. Bring your appetite, not your case files.
I smiled and went back to work.
By six-thirty I'd mapped out Kessler's entire timeline and identified four separate HR procedure violations. Small things—a performance review filed two days late, a required witness interview that never happened, documentation gaps in the investigation. Individually meaningless. Together, they suggested a rush job designed to justify a predetermined termination.
Mike Ross would probably miss them. He'd focus on the big picture—company policy, standard practices, reasonable business decisions. Harvey would tell him to keep it simple, get the settlement, move on.
But I wasn't going to let it be simple.
I locked my office, took the elevator down. The evening air was cold, sharp after a day in climate-controlled spaces. Angelo's was eight blocks south—Italian place, decent wine, the kind of spot where lawyers from different firms could meet without running into colleagues.
Donna was already there, corner booth, glass of wine half-finished. She looked tired.
"Long day?" I asked, sliding in across from her.
"Harvey's in a mood. Jessica's in a mood. Everyone's treating me like I'm going to leak firm secrets to you." She took a sip. "I told Harvey if he questioned my loyalty one more time I'd quit and take his entire calendar system with me."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing. Which means he's thinking about it." She studied me. "You look different."
"Different how?"
"Less...calculated. Like you're not performing anymore."
I thought about that. She was right. At Pearson Hardman I'd been constantly aware of how I was perceived, what impression I was making, which associate was watching. Here, at a firm built on rejection and resentment, there was less pretense.
"Hardman's transparent about what he wants," I said. "He's not pretending this is about justice or client service. It's revenge. That's almost refreshing."
"That's dangerous."
"Also true."
The waiter came. We ordered without looking at menus—we'd been here before, back when I was still at Pearson Hardman and we were still pretending this was just casual.
"Mike Ross is opposing counsel on my first case," I said when the waiter left.
Donna's expression didn't change, but I saw the calculation behind her eyes.
"Harvey assigned it personally?"
"Apparently."
"He's testing Mike. Seeing if he can handle you without backup."
"Or he's sending a message that I'm not worth his time."
"With Harvey, it's probably both." She finished her wine. "Be careful. Mike's smarter than Harvey gives him credit for. And he's got something to prove now after you beat him."
"So do I."
"No." Donna's voice was sharp. "You proved it already. That's why they forced you out. Now you're starting over at a smaller firm with a bitter name partner using you as a weapon. Don't let Hardman's vendetta become your identity."
I didn't have an answer to that.
The food came. We ate, talked about other things—her sister's wedding drama, my apartment search for something bigger now that I could actually afford it, whether the Knicks would ever be good again. Normal conversation. The kind we'd had before everything got complicated.
Walking her to the subway after, she stopped on the corner.
"I meant what I said. About figuring this out. Working at different firms, dealing with Harvey's possessiveness, all of it."
"I know."
"But you need to know something else." She met my eyes. "I'm not leaving Pearson Hardman. Not yet. Harvey's an ass, but he's also been my career for over a decade. I don't abandon people just because things get hard."
"I'm not asking you to."
"Good. Because I'm not asking you to give up on proving yourself either. Just...remember why you're doing it. For you. Not for Hardman. Not to spite Harvey. For you."
She kissed me, quick and certain, then headed down the subway stairs.
I walked back toward my apartment, hands in pockets, city noise washing over me. The System was quiet, dormant in the background. It would wake up tomorrow when I called Gerald Kessler and started building my case.
But tonight I let it rest.
Tomorrow the war began.
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