Possession - Part One: Hostile Takeover Bid

Possession - Part Five: Due Diligence

The Patrick Center was a half hour’s bike ride to a rundown, poor part of town. Mike’s ass hurt both from Harvey’s hard spanking hand and his equally hard cock, and he pedalled most of it on the balls of his feet, so his ass didn’t have to make contact with the bike’s saddle.

“Damn you, Harvey. You knew it’d hurt like hell to ride my bike after all that fucking and spanking,” he grumbled as he cycled, certain that Harvey not only knew and didn’t care, but probably also liked the idea.

The Patrick Center was a newish looking building surrounded by railings, with a brightly painted mural on the outside.

Mike eyed his bike nervously – if he locked it up against the railings, he had a suspicion that he’d come out to find both the bike and the railings gone. It was that shady an area.

“You worried it’ll get stolen?” a voice called out to him.

He glanced up and saw a big, black woman, probably in her sixties, coming out of the center. She was wearing a bright tent of a dress and there was a colourful turban wrapped around her head. She was, in all senses of the phrase, larger than life.

“I am kinda.” Mike made a face.

“Well, it won’t.”

“How do I know that?”

“Because Bertha says so!” She gave a deep laugh that he recognised immediately from Harvey’s answering machine. “Ain’t nobody gonna steal anything from my Center, or they know they’ll answer to me.”

“You’re Bertha?”

“I am. Bertha Matthews – in person. And you are?”

“Uh…Mike…Mike Ross.” He held out his hand, wondering what the hell he was going to say to her now that he was here.

“Oh, so you’re Mike Ross.” She looked him up and down, a big grin on her face.

“Wait, you’ve heard of me?”

“I sure have, hon! Hell, I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have a whiter, skinnier ass than Harvey, but it seems like he found someone who does!” She gave another warm laugh, pumping his hand heartily at the same time.

“Harvey talked about me?” Mike felt confused.

“Yeah. First time I ever heard him talk about a guy from work like they were a friend and not someone he was doing battle with. I’m pleased to see you, Mike. Did Harvey send you over to check up on how I spent his donation?”

“Something like that, yes.” Mike remembered what Harvey had said about how he habitually lied to make his life easier, but he decided that now was not a good time to work on that particular bad habit.

“Well, you tell him he needs to get his ass down here to see it for himself. We don’t see him often enough, and I miss mussing with that slicked down hair of his.”

“You muss with Harvey’s hair, and you’re still alive?” Mike gazed at her, awe-struck. “You either have a death wish, or you know him really well.”

She laughed again. “Oh, I know Harvey Specter well, for sure. I’ve known him since he was a skinny little kid running around this neighbourhood like he wanted to beat it into submission or get the hell out of it, and he wasn’t sure which.”

“Harvey grew up around here?” Mike glanced around at the graffiti covered walls, broken windows and filthy street.

“He didn’t tell you? Yeah. He grew up here. Of all the kids I’ve helped over the years, I knew he was the one who’d do something to make us all sit up and take notice. I thought he’d either end up doing life in jail, or get filthy rich. I’m glad he went for getting rich!”