Tell Me You Still Love Me (closed for summergal21)

[bdt147]

Harvey sat in his plush red leather covered booth, swirling the ice around his now empty glass of Glenlivet 18 hoping to catch the eye of his server for a refill. This place, with its dark mahogany paneling, tables with small dimly lit lamps centered on blindingly white starched tablecloths, is how he imagined Rush Street's infamous "Viagra Triangle" in his hometown of Chicago. Those bars where the movers and shakers of the Chicago Machine met to eat, drink, and deal. He laughed to himself as he pictured all those wiseguys sitting at their tables with huge slabs of beef spilling over their plates like their bellies over their pants. Another plate would house a baked potato the size of a Great Lakes freighter, topped with a baseball of butter and covered with a white waterfall of sour cream. There wouldn't be a salad or any other green vegetable found within four blocks of their tables. He could hear their voices talking with that South Side vernacular about "the bode of em" and "the tree of em."

He leaned back and scoured the room searching for someone, anyone who could bring him another Scotch. Maybe he needed to do like his old black Lab Tex did when Harvey was a kid. If Tex's water bowl was empty, he'd turn it over and start pushing it across the linoleum floor. The sound of metal scraping across that tile got somebody's attention. Looking down at the plush pile carpeting that covered the floor of the restaurant, Harvey figured that strategy wouldn't cut it here.

Looking toward the maître d's station, Harvey caught sight of a gaggle of the ubiquitous NTC power couples waiting to be seated. His booth was situated so he had a front row seat to the never ending parade of two thousand dollar suits and thousand dollar Manolo Blahniks that passed by on their way to their tables.

There was something about this next couple. Well actually the woman. She wore a beautiful, slate blue dress, Valentino perhaps?, that its mid-thigh length displayed a gorgeous set of long, well muscled legs. Her accessories were standard issue for this class, Chanel bag, four inch Jimmy Choo's, diamond tennis bracelet pearl earrings. As they got closer he saw a wedding ring that screamed old money family heirloom.

But it was something about her gait, the way she carried herself. A strong, confident athletic stride even in those four inch heels. He knew that walk. There were probably a thousand, no maybe a million women who walked like that. As she passed his booth, their eyes locked and they both held a stare for a couple of seconds before she disappeared into the dark depths of the dining room.

Harvey was sure the couple in the next booth heard the "Holy fuck" that tumbled out of his mouth. The walk was one thing but the eyes. What, almost twenty years had gone by but he would never mistake those liquid brown pools of pure seduction.

Doing his best Rick Blaine imitation, Harvey started mumbling, "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine......."

 

[summergal21]

It had been a while since Arabella was in New York City. She grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and made her way to NYC during her college years to study at Columbia. Now she lived in Europe, her husband’s family owns several properties around the continent allowing her to call several different cities, ‘home’.

Arabella glanced outside her town car tinted windows and watched the bright lights of the city in the back drop of the night pass her by as the car made the way to their destination.

Arabella glanced down at her slate blue Valentino half-sleeve capelet dress. She attempted to straighten the wrinkles she saw in the fabric as she straightened her posture just a little bit more. Her husband, dressed smartly in a suit was sitting next to her busily looking at emails on his phone. Arabella adoringly placed her left well decorated hand on his knee, trying to be affectionate towards her husband but he ignored her and brushed it away.

To this Arabella sighed and she noted in her head that she would go shopping with his credit card tomorrow and buy herself something nice.

Her life wasn’t always like this, there was a time when she refused to use her husband,Pierre’s money as she didn’t want anyone to think she was a “gold digger”. Pierre comes from an old, aristocratic and highly successful family in Europe and despite Arabella herself coming from a family of wealth and that boasted lineages attending Columbia University, their difference in status was evident. Arabella didn’t want to give any reason for her in-laws to think that she married Pierre for the rich and extravagant life he would provide.

Arabella sighed loudly and placed her hand back in her lap. She glanced down at the large emerald cut diamond ring surrounded by smaller diamonds on her hand. The stone sparkled brightly showing only little wear despite the many generations this ring had passed onto. Right below her engagement ring rested her wedding ring, a Cartier trinity ring with white gold, pink gold and yellow gold sparkling with diamonds. She glanced at her husband’s hands and noticed that their wedding ring was absent. Pierre had gotten in the habit of leaving his Cartier wedding band at home both out of laziness and carelessness.

Pierre noticed Arabella’s eyes and he took his away from his phone for a second, “What is it?” His heavy French accent laced in his speech.

Arabella shook her head and gave him a faint smile. “Just this email and then I’ll put my phone away for dinner,” Pierre said as he gently caressed his wife’s cheek. But the embrace was very short as his phone vibrated loudly.

Arabella knew better than to trust Pierre’s words that he wouldn’t be on the phone during dinner and she pretended to graciously accept his proposal and watched him answer his phone.

The phone call continued despite the couple arriving at their destination. Arabella didn’t pay too close of attention to where the couple were having dinner. After a while all high-end restaurants seemed the same her. Unable to keep the car parked at the entrance of the car too long Pierre attempted to wrap up the call as he exited the car. Arabella followed suit and she dutifully followed her husband into the restaurant.

Pierre continued to stay on the phone, only stopping for a moment to speak to the hostess. Arabella watched, clutching her Chanel bag and keeping her eye away from all the people judging one another. The duo were quickly seated and Arabella carefully walked in her sparkly Jimmy Choos heel, she was a tall girl and with heels she was the same height as her husband. She wanted to reach for her husband’s hand but she knew better.

Pierre was on a work call, she was not to disturb her.

She was unsure what made her turn her head right at that moment but just as she was about to enter the depths of the dining room her eyes locked on a man sitting alone in a booth.

Could it be?

Dressed smartly in a suit, cradling a now empty glass of what she assumed was filled with whiskey, the high cheekbones which always made him look so serious, his mysterious yet warm eyes locked on her, Arabella hesitated a step. Yet she quickly composed herself, her husband already several steps ahead of her and she quickly returned to following him.

Could it really be?

Arabella felt her heart race as all her memories, all the times her full plump lips met his lips, his strong hands that always met her soft hands when they made love, the way she would rest her head on his strong and firm chest post-coital, the laughs and the smiles the two shared flooded her mind.

Could that really be Harvey? Harvey Specter?

 

[bdt147]

"You OK Harvey? Looks like you could use another."

Kara's voice snapped Harvey out of his stupor. He couldn't remember how long he was just sitting and staring in an almost catatonic state. Maybe she thought he had a stroke.

'Yeah, yeah I'm fine. And I really could use another."

Harvey was lying about the being fine part. The only woman he ever loved just strolled past his table following some guy in a very expensive suit, phone glued to his ear. He was positive it was her. Memories of her flooded his brain. They were inseparable, sharing all that they had and everything they were, connecting as man to woman, lover to beloved, soul to soul, or so he thought. Then one day, almost twenty years ago it all came crashing down. It was so so wrong, as wrong as a hole in the roof.

"Here you go Harvey. Just the way you like it."

Kara returned from the bar and placed his fresh Glenlivet 18, with three ice cubes on the table. She leaned into his booth and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"We're still good for tonight right?"

She was so close Harvey could smell the ginger from her breath mint and the subtle spices from her Caron perfume. Her fingers walked across his shoulder to the back of his neck where her perfectly manicured nails, painted a bright red to match her lipstick scraped against his skin. She flashed a seductive smile, her almost too white teeth framed by her full lips.

"Yeah yeah we're all good. "

Harvey tried to sound convincing but felt he failed miserably. Kara, however, did not notice. She turned and sashayed her way back to the bar, giving her ass an extra wiggle in her shorter and tighter than usual black skirt, hoping Harvey would enjoy the show.

Taking a sip of his Scotch, Harvey contemplated his next move. Should he stick to the plan, take Kara back to his place when her shift ended and fuck the shit out of her or roam through the restaurant and search for that woman. That woman whose name he swore he would never mention again but a woman that he never forgot.

Holding his glass up, Harvey peered into the dark amber liquid courage looking for an answer. Putting his drink to his lips, he tilted his head back and threw down the remainder of his Scotch. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Sliding out of the booth, Harvey reached into his wallet, took out a hundred dollar bill and left it on the table.

Hoping that the generous tip would mitigate Kara's anger for being stood up, Harvey took a left turn and headed for the dining area to search for that woman in the slate blue dress. That woman, Arabella.

PM

 

[summergal21]

Arabella pretended to be carefully scrutinizing the restaurant's menu. Her perfectly French tip manicured nails trailing the overpriced dishes the restaurant offered. Despite her looking at the menu, she already knew what she would be eating for dinner.

Whatever her husband, Pierre would want for her to eat.

Which generally meant whatever salad was the most priciest on the menu. He had no intention of depriving her palette, yet he held a specific and strict image for his wife that he would not waver from.

Pierre was still on the phone but his eyes glazed the menu.

"Good evening," the voice of the manager ringed in Arabella's ears as he approached the duo. Arabella gave him a courteous smile but she knew that the attention the manager wanted was not of hers, but her husband.

Pierre placed his hand over the speaker of his phone and ordered the couple's dinner.

A salad decorated with fresh seafood for Arabella and a steak and lobster dinner for Pierre.

The manager happily took the duo's order and the sommelier of the restaurant continued afterward. The sommelier dutifully greeted the duo, but once again his focus was on Pierre.

An expensive rare bottle of wine was ordered for the duo and Pierre quickly went back on the phone, promising his wife that the phone call would come to an end soon. Arabella carefully placed a smile on her face and nodded her head. She wanted to act annoyed with Pierre but at the moment she had no desire suffer the consequences.

She had forgotten about the man she thought was her high school sweetheart, the first guy she properly kissed, the first guy who ever saw her naked, the first guy she ever slept with, her first love.

Harvey

Pierre was still on the phone, his eyebrows furrowed, his fingers drumming on the table. Arabella could tell from her husband's fidgeting and facial expressions that for whatever reason a deal Pierre had thought was already taken care of and finished had fallen through.

He'll be in a bad mood.

Arabella breathed deeply, she didn't want Pierre to know she was upset over his inability to keep work out of their private life, as he would call her a "ungrateful bitch".

Then from the corner of her eye she saw something move.

It was the man she thought who was Harvey and he was walking over to her table.

"Excuse me, I need to go use the ladies room," Arabella said as she stood up and clutched her Chanel bag. Pierre gave a disinterested nod and Arabella walked away from her table and to the dark corridors of where the restroom was located. She wondered if the man who she was sure was walking towards her table was following her as well.

She wanted to turn around, but just in case her husband saw, she waited to do so till she turned into the corridor where the restrooms were located. Arabella could feel her heart beating fast and her cheeks full of heat.

 

[bdt147]

Harvey made his way into the restaurant's main dining room, his Ferragamo loafers sinking into the deep pile carpeting feeling as if he was walking on the moss covered floor of a tropical rain forest. His head was on a swivel, pivoting from side to side, scanning the table and booths searching for that woman. Then, three or four tables ahead,he saw a flash of blue among the crowd. It was like a patch of clear sky breaking through cloud cover. She was pushing her chair away from the table. As she grabbed her bag, she glanced up and spotted him. Quickly turning away, she made her way down the narrow path between the tables heading for the restrooms.

Following behind her, Harvey passed the table she had vacated seconds before. He saw her dining partner engaged in, what appeared to be, a not so pleasant phone conversation. Harvey did a quick assessment of him as he strode by. Definitely, a man of means. A five figure suit, Rolex on his wrist, but no wedding ring. His smug expression gave off the air of someone very important, well at least in his own mind, Harvey thought. Could this be the man she left him for?

Trying to catch up to her, Harvey's gait became labored. Instead of his step springing off the cushion the carpet provided, he was now slogging through what felt like a sea of thick slippery mud. Maybe his body was telling him this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe he should just turn back, have another drink and wait for Kara.

He lost sight of his target momentarily, as she turned at the end of the aisle and continued down the corridor that led to the lounges. When Harvey reached that same intersection, he paused. The moment of truth had arrived. Does he continue and catch her so he can finally find out why she left him, a question that has haunted him for the last 20 years? Or does he turn away and continue his successful but emotionally bankrupt life. Standing there, another line from of his favorite movies, Dirty Harry, popped into his head. Just like the bank robber Harry stands over and does his famous 'Did I fire five shots or six shots" line, Harvey whispers to himself "I gots to know" and resumes pursuing his prey.

Her sexy long legs and tight ass find their way into the hallway where the ladies room is located. It is dimly lit and secluded, shielded from the main dining area. Harvey has closed the gap. He's an arm's length away. Suddenly he freezes. Harvey Specter, the accomplished trail lawyer, so unflappable his pulse never exceeds 60 beats a minute no matter how tense the situation, Harvey Specter the eloquent orator who's never at a loss for words, stands motionless behind the woman he has never stopped loving. With his heart pounding like a jackhammer on concrete, and his mouth drier than Death Valley in July, he manages to sputter "Ara, is that you?"

 

[summergal21]

"Ara, is that you?"

Arabella felt her body stop, her ears carefully listening to the husky voice of her first love, Harvey...Harvey Specter.

They met many years ago when they were both just in high school. In hopes to add extracurriculars for her college applications, Arabella volunteered as a French tutor throughout high school. With a grandmother who only spoke French and a mother who made sure she knew the language, it wasn't a difficult task.

That was where she met Harvey...

Arabella still recalls the first moment she met him. She was sitting in the library waiting for her tutee, unaware that the young man she would tutor would change her life...forever. Her hair in a high ponytail, wearing black cheer shorts, as she had just finished cheer practice, and wearing a shirt with her mother's alma malter Columbia University.

Arabella was the epitome of the All American preppy high schooler. With a mother whose family had generations of attending Columbia she grew up in a world where it was always a given that she was "put together". Pearl necklace, diamond studs and a little black dress was a staple in her wardrobe.

Arabella's mother married Arabella's father after falling in love with him one summer during her college years. Arabella's father was about to embark on a promising baseball career in the major leagues but an injury left him having to reconsider his career.

With Arabella's mother already pregnant with Arabella by the time she was finishing her college degree, the duo married and Arabella's father found work in Chicago. Leading Arabella's mother to live a life she never considered; being a suburban housewife.

"Ara, is that you?"

Harvey's voice rang through her ears again. Standing tall in her high heels, clutching her several thousand dollar Chanel handbag, Arabella felt her heart beating fast in her chest.

His voice had changed from their high school days, more deeper and huskier.

"Hi, I'm Harvey"

Wearing gym shorts and their high school baseball team t-shirt Harvey sat down in the chair next to Arabella, giving her a playful smirk. 'Ara' soon became the loving nickname he gave her and he was the only person who called her this as she came from a family who didn't believe in nicknames.

Arabella slowly turned her body, the heels of her Jimmy Choo pivoting in the carpet as she faced the present Harvey, the man currently standing right behind her. Her blue eyes locked on his brown eyes, she felt herself holding her breath, both fearful yet a feeling of anticipation flowing through her body.

Arabella moved her plump stained red lips, but no words came out at first. Her stomach in knots, her vocal chords struggled to let anything out. The fingers in her left hand fidgeting with the ornate engagement ring she finally allowed fresh air to fill her lungs.

"Hi..." Her voice came out louder than she expected and her face felt full of heat.

Unable to keep her eyes on Harvey, she looked down on the carpeted floor. But then she couldn't help herself but look back up. There he was, her first love, the man she was once certain she would marry. He had aged gracefully, his clothing attire had changed dramatically from his baseball days and had now been traded for designer suits.

"Harvey..." His name fell carefully and sweetly off her lips.

Arabella tried to move her lips again, but her stomach once again in knots she stopped and she clutched tighter onto her handbag as if she was contemplating on running away.

 

[bdt147]

"Hi...................Harvey."

Shit it is her. When she turned and looked straight at him, Harvey knew it was her. Those eyes, those captivating, trance inducing eyes. He couldn't tell if the hesitation he detected in her voice was surprise, joy or embarrassment. But there she was, 20 years later, more beautiful than he could have ever imagined her to be, the woman that changed his life, the woman who made him into the man he was today, driven, successful and as vulnerable as newborn.

Being vulnerable, being caring were two personality traits Harvey tried so hard to shield from the rest of the world. After she left him, Harvey thought why care about anything or anyone else but himself. She betrayed his trust after he had given his entire being to her, just like his mother had done to his father. So, from the very moment he finished reading the "Dear Harvey" letter she sent from France, Harvey decided fuck everyone else.

But deep, deep down in the bowels of his soul, Harvey did care and Harvey was just as vulnerable emotionally as any man. Despite the persona he projected at work, win at all cost clients' happiness be damned, Harvey knew every court decision he'd won, every settlement he negotiated, while on the surface appeared to benefit the firm, was done because he cared about the client. He said he was all about the win, but inside he knew the win was meaningless if he didn't make things right for his clients.

And being vulnerable? Several women who expressed an interest in Harvey that extended far beyond the bedroom, broke off their relationships off because he never trusted them enough to expose that side of him to them. In fact, the last woman he was with, said she would have loved to meet the woman that fucked him up. Well, here she is, standing within an arm's length away.

Harvey couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was still the girl from high school, only mature and stunningly gorgeous. She was giving him the same appraising look, no doubt thinking he's come a long way from the jeans and tee shirt clad law firm mailroom clerk she left holding the bag.

What are my options, he thought. One, he could lash out, thank her with some of his trademark sarcasm for fucking up his life and go back and wait for Kara. Two, he could just turn away and go back to his multi million dollar Manhattan condo and get drunk or three, find out why she left him. Something he wanted, no, needed to know. Let's see what's behind door number three.

"Ara, can we talk?"

 

[summergal21]

“Ara, can we talk?”

Arabella’s blue eyes grew large and she pressed her lips together. Her hand starting to sweat from both her her clutching her quilted leather handbag so tightly and because of her nerves. Instinctively she looked at her engagement and wedding rings. There was something oddly comforting about wearing a ring that could easily buy several luxury cars.

Arabella’s mind raced as she tried to think what Harvey would want to talk about. Their last communication was when Arabella sent him a letter from Paris. It was their junior year in college. She went to Columbia and Harvey went to New York University. The duo made it through the first two years of college together as a couple. But then starting their junior year…things started to change.

Arabella met Pierre.

Arabella was certain that she was going to marry Harvey. But then when she met Pierre everything in her life changed. Pierre was a couple of years older than Arabella, studying for his MBA at Columbia. Having graduated from Oxford he was now in the United States to “broaden his horizons”. He was cultured and lived a life of extravagance as his family owned a multi-billion dollar company. A far cry from the life she lived and the life she saw with Harvey.

Arabella could still remember writing the letter to Harvey at a cafe along the Seine. Arabella spent the second half of her junior year abroad in France. She intended in keeping her relationship with Harvey despite Arabella already taking an interest in Pierre and he as well. She assured herself that she was just friends with Pierre but when he had come to visit her, she knew the feelings she had for him were not just platonic.

She could still remember holding back the tears as she wrote in her cursive writing, “I’m sure you’ll hate me for doing this but I want you to know I loved you and I’m sure there will always be a part of me that cares for you, Harvey.”

Arabella looked down at the carpet, then the sparkles on her hand and then back to Harvey. She chewed on the inside of her mouth, trying to debate what she wanted her next words to be.

“I…” She wanted to tell him yes, she wanted to tell him that she’s made a big mistake, that Pierre ended up not being the man she thought he was…

Her mouth was becoming dry from her hesitation and she bit her lips.

“My husband is waiting for me, I should…” She felt a heavy feeling on her chest.

“I should go…” Arabella breathed deeply as she finished her sentence. She looked back down at there carpet, her brain was telling her feet to move but they stayed frozen where she was, right in front of Harvey.

 

[bdt147]

"My husband is waiting for me, I should......... I should go."

Harvey was prepared to prevent Arabella from leaving but she stood right in front of him, motionless, afraid to move, as if Harvey was surrounded by an invisible barrier that would emit an electric current if she dared to move past him. Was she afraid he would lash out at her and purge almost twenty years of pent up anger and resentment on her right here, right now?

Part of him wanted to do exactly that. Why did she leave him? Why did she destroy him? Didn't she know that what she did left him unable to love or trust any woman? He dreamt about this day of reckoning for Arabella. How he would inflict the same emotional trauma he'd been suffering on her and enjoy every second of doing it. Here was, what might be, his one and only chance to live that very fantasy.

But he couldn't and he knew it. Just looking at her, standing in front of him, Harvey saw the only love of his life appear so very vulnerable. Gone was that driven young woman Harvey knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. In her place stood a broken woman that no designer dress, shoes or bag could mask her unhappiness.

No, what he really wanted to do was grab her and whisk her away from her current life and take her back to that shitty two flat they rented in the Village. He wanted to go back in time and pretend the last twenty years never happened. He wanted to be with her again, feel her warm flesh press against his, kiss her deeply and passionately, tell her how much he loved her.

That wasn't possible. Those twenty years were gone forever and he knew it. So Harvey decided to do the next best thing. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card. Quickly jotting down a number on the back, he handed it to Arabella.

"Ara, here's my card. My cell number is on the back. Call me. Please. We both know we need to talk."

With that, Harvey turned away and headed for the front door.

 

[summergal21]

Before Arabella could say anything Harvey had handed her his card and left her side. Her manicured fingers holding tightly onto Harvey’s business card she read his carefully printed name.

Harvey Specter Esq.

A smile appeared on the woman’s face. She didn’t want to admit to Harvey but Arabella had kept an eye on Harvey ever since her move to Europe. She knew that he attended Harvard Law, which Arabella was both proud of and perhaps jealous. She knew that he worked for the New York City District Attorney's office and that he then went to work for Jessica Pearson. She knew that he was known as the "Best Closer in the City". She knew he was now a senior partner with his name even on the wall...despite their breakup and distance, Arabella had kept her eye on Harvey.

After graduating from Columbia, Arabella moved to Europe to be closer to Pierre but with her own aspirations of studying at the Sorbonne. Having grown up with a mother who pushed Arabella to be cultured, one of the things she enjoyed most was art. She fell in love with the French Impressionist movement and her bedroom was decorated with posters of work by Monet, Seurat and Van Gogh. She dabbled in art herself, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to make a living off of it.

Arabella went to go study at the Sorbonne for her graduate degree with the goal of becoming an art restorer. She was intrigued with the concept of conserving and restoring art to insure that current and future generations could continue to enjoy the millions of artwork throughout history. Also as a restorer, it would allow Arabella to be close to some of the world’s most famous and beautiful artworks, a perk she was looking forward to.

However, her study was cut short after her engagement to Pierre. Becoming part of his family was no small task and what she intended was to be only a “semester break” ended up being forever. It would be unfair to say she resented Pierre and his family for this, but to this day she always wondered how different her life would be if she continued her studies.

But now…all she could wonder was how different her life would be if she hadn’t broken things off with Harvey. If she stayed with him…If she became, as she once thought she would be, Arabella Specter…

With Harvey now not in front of her, she was free to go back to her table and she did. She put Harvey’s card in her handbag, her eyes carefully looking at his messy scribble before it disappeared.

Pierre was stil talking on his phone when she returned and he continued to do so, all throughout dinner. Sadly, this was the norm for the two. Once the duo finished their entree, Pierre finally hung up the phone. It was evident that the phone call did not go well and when the waiter brought out the dessert menus, Pierre scowled and quickly demanded the check. Arabella was sad to see the dessert menus go as she enjoyed sweets but it was hard to get anything other than sorbet in her husband’s presence as he cared little for sweets and only saw them as extra calories.

With their check quickly paid, the duo left the restaurant in a similar manner they arrived. With Pierre once again on his phone and Arabella obediently following behind him.

Arabella arrived back at their suite at the Carlyle alone. Pierre went back to the family’s New York City office, insisting he had to go back. Arabella used to attempt dissuading Pierre from doing work after dinner but she knew that would only make him angry.

Their hotel suite was the definition of luxury. With 3 bedrooms, 4 full bathrooms, a full kitchen, a sitting room and even an office Arabella knew this was the definition of excessive, especially for only two people. Arabella did enjoy the night view of New York City with the room’s floor to ceiling windows and the private art collection the hotel offered for the room.

To ease the feeling of being alone in such a large space Arabella turned on the tv. She then picked up the room phone and called room service, ordering every single dessert item on their menu. Arabella knew she would regret this in the morning but as she changed out of her dress and slipped into one of the plush robes offered by the Carlyle she could care less about all the extra calories she was about to consume. And anyways she was almost certain her husband wouldn’t return back to their suite, even if he did she would have the staff take down the plates after she was done and thus wiping away any evidence of her binge.

She tried to get her mind off of Harvey, but she failed. She reached for his card with his phone number scribbled on the back and she texted him. Her fingers fidgeted for a while, unsure of how to start the conversation.

Hi, it’s me Ara

Arabella thought about stopping her letters right there. Harvey was the only one that called her Ara…but out of habit she spelled out her name.

Hi, it’s me Arabella. It was really good seeing you earlier tonight. I see that you’ve done quite well for yourself. Not surprised though

Arabella reread this multiple of times, trying to see if these were the right words she wanted for him to read.

Her desserts arrived and she quickly hit send, now all she had to do was devour her desserts and wait for Harvey to respond.

 

[bdt147]

Harvey walked zombie like toward the exit. His mind was like a pinball machine with all kinds of thoughts careening off the side rails of his brain. What the fuck did I just do? Do I really want to know why? I've spent all these years trying to suppress and forgot those feelings, why in God's name do I want to bring it all up again.

As he passed by the lounge he spotted Kara. It wasn't too late to save the evening. He could take Kara back to his place, bury his face between those muscular thighs and forget all about Ara. No, eating Kara's pussy would only make him think more about Ara. Ara and Harvey were each others' sexual training wheels. They fumbled and bumbled their way as they experimented on how best to please each other. Ara loved when Harvey went down on her and Harvey fine tuned his oral lovemaking skills on her. All thede young women that Harvey had fucked over the years were amazed and impressed on how hard and how often Harvey could make them cum with his talented tongue. He owed it all to Ara.

How many women had there been? Harvey didn't even want to hazard a guess. Kara was just the latest in a long line of aspiring actresses/singers/dancers, take your pick, that ended up waiting tables or serving drinks. Now their careers focused on finding a doctor/lawyer/stockbroker, take your pick, that would whisk them off to a big house on Long Island where they would live happily ever after. Well. they all found out eventually that Harvey wasn't that guy. Outside of the sexual gratification he got from them, he really didn't give a good goddam about them. That too he owed all to Ara.

It was pretty obvious that Kara had moved on as Harvey watched her leaning over the table talking up Jack the stock guy. Her tits were almost falling out of her blouse that Harvey swore has one more top button undone from the last time he saw here. Maybe she"d get lucky tonight. Harvey certainly wasn't.

Once back at his place Harvey poured himself another Scotch and stared out the window wondering what Ara was doing right now. Was she thinking about him? Was she having the same wanton thoughts he was now experiencing causing an ever growing bulge in his pants.? God she was so beautiful. Was he that drunk or that horny that he felt like pulling his hard cock out and stroking it until he came while he thought about eating her?

The annoying sound of an incoming text took Harvey out of that zone. Who the fuck could that be? Harvey wasn't big on new technology and texting was near the top of the list. Reluctantly he pulled out his phone and brought up the message.

A smile creased his face when he saw it was from Ara. And as much as he hated people texting him when he wanted them to call, he was elated to get this one. Now what to do? Should I text her back? Harvey hated that. He told his coworkers they looked like a bunch of teenage girls at the mall pecking away at their phones.

No, fuck it, Harvey was going to call. He figured if she couldn't talk she wouldn't answer. So, he hit the call button, placed the phone next to his ear, and waited for it to ring her number.

 

[summergal21]

When Arabella heard her phone ring she had just broken the hard, caramelized sugar sitting on top of the creme brûlée she was about to devour. Her stomach sank for a second as she assumed it was her husband, who under no circumstance would be happy to see his wife surrounded by all these desserts.

The thought of her not wanting to talk to her husband troubled her as she knew she shouldn’t feel this way, that she should be happy to hear his voice…but somewhere along the way of her supposed fairytale, a nightmare had taken its place.

Arabella thought about ignoring her phone, lying to her husband that she was in the shower and didn’t hear it…but out of curiosity she made the effort to check her phone.

Her phone still vibrating and lighting a name she hadn’t seen for many years on her phone.

It’s Harvey.

Arabella never thought Harvey would call her and she hesitated in picking up her phone. She recalled the days they spent talking several hours on the landlines at their respective houses back in high school so that they could always be the last person they talked to and the first person they spoke to. The sweet and innocent moments the two spent together flowed through Arabella and she smiled. She quickly picked up her phone and placed it to her ear,

“Hi….” Arabella’s mind quickly thought of a witty greeting, something that would make Harvey smile, but all she could do was let out a nervous happy giggle, a giggle she hadn’t done in years, a giggle that had been lost in her muddled relationship with her husband, a giggle that told her that perhaps she had made the biggest mistake in her life when she said left him for Pierre...

 

[bdt147]

Harvey was almost relieved that Ara's phone kept ringing. Maybe he really didn't want her to pick up. Maybe he really didn't want to find out, after all these years, why she left him. But deep down inside, he knew that he needed to finally close that chapter of his life. As much as he tried to deny it, Ara's departure left a deep emotional wound. A hurt that he never recovered from, a hurt that prevented him from having any kind of a meaningful, committed relationship with a woman.

Then there was her husband. Harvey could spot a real douche bag a mile away and this guy may as well worn a sign advertising that fact around his neck. What was that saying about first impressions? Well Harvey's was this was an arrogant, smug asshole who couldn't have cared less about the beautiful woman who was sitting across from him.

Probably really shitty in the sack as well. Pleasing Ara sexually was something Harvey knew a lot about and was quite good at as well. His cock began to stiffen once more as he remembered how sweet her pussy tasted, how her hips ground into his face as her whole body began to buck and spasm with orgasm. Why, why did she leave?

If she ever answered the phone, Harvey was going to try his best to find out. He had a plan and it was going to be up to Ara to agree and meet. This wouldn't be a prolonged telephone conversation. He didn't want that. They needed to meet, talk face to face. He needed to look into her eyes to find the real truth.

Just as he was about to hang up, the ringing stopped.

"Hi................"

Her voice and that giggle sent his head spinning. Don't be weak Harvey, stick to the plan.

"Ara, it's Harvey. I'm going to text you my address. I want you to come over tomorrow night at 8 so we can talk. I know it's been almost 20 years but you owe me an explanation. I'm going to hang up now. If you still care about me, you'll show up. Good bye."

Harvey slumped down on his leather couch and took a long hard pull from his glass of scotch. Then, just like the teenage girls at the mall, he began pecking away.

 

[summergal21]

Arabella stopped breathing as she heard Harvey’s voice over the phone.

"Ara, it's Harvey.”

Harvey was the first and only person to ever call her Ara…it made her heart flutter to hear that name again.

“I’m going to text you my address.”

Ara’s eyes darted around the room as she thought about what to wear to see Harvey again. The only thing her eyes registered were the several plates of the desserts she ordered from room service.

“I want you to come over tomorrow night at 8 so we can talk.”

Arabella allowed the air she kept trapped in her lungs to release and she relaxed as she took solace in knowing that he didn’t want to see her till tomorrow.

“I know it's been almost 20 years but you owe me an explanation.”

Arabella’s heart sank as she bit her lips. She opened her mouth to say something. She wanted to counter Harvey. She didn’t mean to hurt him, that was the last thing she ever wanted to do to Harvey, to her Harvey.

“I’m going to hang up now. “

Arabella breathed heavily as she wanted to tell him to not hang up. To ask him what he had for dinner, what amused him today, what he thought about her dress, the things the two used to talk about when they were still in high school. Arabella opened her mouth wide, trying to command her vocal cords to say something.

“If you still care about me, you'll show up.”

Arabella could feel her eyes water as she heard Harvey say these words, “Of course I still care about you,” Arabella mumbled as she heard Harvey finish his sentence.

“Good bye."

Arabella sighed as she heard her phone end the call as Harvey had hung up his phone. Arabella wanted to call him, she wanted to explain to him right there and then what happened. She wanted to tell him everything, that she made a big mistake, that she shouldn’t have left him, that she still…loved him. But she knew very well from the tone of Harvey’s voice that them talking right now wouldn’t get anywhere. When the two fought it was best to keep a distance till they cooled down as they both not only had a temper but carried sharp tongues and an even quicker wit. Arabella put her phone down as she took comfort in her creme brulee.

The next day started off the same as the day before. Arabella woke up to Pierre’s side of the bed, empty…
It had been a while since the duo shared any carnal relations. The other day Arabella attempted to seduce her husband by straddling him on the couch as he was on a call. Pierre would have welcomed such affection at the beginning of their marriage, but now he saw it as a distraction and pushed Arabella off of him and later scolded her for being "inappropriate".

Pierre hadn’t returned to their hotel suite after he went back to his office after dinner. Arabella knew that a caring and responsible wife would be worried about her husband overworking himself, but now as this was the norm in Arabella’s life, being alone in a hotel suite in a country far away from her now home, she knew any of her worries would be unsolicited.

Yet, she knew by now that if she didn’t at least make the effort to be a good wife there would be consequences later. Consequences she cared not to face. So after getting dressed into a red pantsuit with her classic black Louboutin heels she made her way to Pierre’s office with a basket of the hotel’s fresh baked croissants, fresh fruits and black coffee.

Arabella’s attempt to be an attentive wife went unnoticed as Pierre was already busy with meetings in his conference room by the time Arabella arrived to his office. Arabella was quickly turned away by Pierre’s assistant who told her that, “He is too busy for distractions”. A lesser insecure woman would be threatened by Pierre’s assistant in New York, blonde, tall perfect teeth with even more perfect breasts and at least a decade or two younger than Arabella.

Yet, Arabella had little care for her. She knew any feelings of insecurity, of jealousy was useless ever since that one time she made the mistake of accusing Pierre of being too friendly with one of his coworkers a handful of years ago. Arabella’s accusation ended with her having a bruised arm and the decision that she would keep her lips sealed when it came to her husband’s relations with other women.

Ignoring the continued insistence from Pierre's assistant that Arabella would be a distraction, Arabella did make her way to Pierre's office and dropped off the breakfast she brought for her husband. On his desk was a picture of the two when they first met along with a picture from their wedding. Arabella knew very well that husband cared for her and loved her, but that doe-eyed, head over heels in love couple could now only be found in pictures.

Missed you last night Arabella wrote on a note pad and left it next to the breakfast she brought for her husband. As Arabella walked out of her husband's office, she met her husband's eyes who was in the conference room with his employers. Arabella was almost sure that he looked and smiled at her, but as that moment the two shared was only a second her brain quickly questioned even if he looked at her.

As Arabella walked back to her town car she debated whether or not she would actually go and see Harvey. She intended to, she wanted to see him and as he said, she owed him an explanation..

But there was the problem of her husband. How would she explain to Pierre that she needed to go see an old friend? Even if Pierre was to work late in the office again, it would be expected of her to be at their hotel suite. As Arabella pondered in the back of her town car, her eyes looking out to the streets of New York City, the words fell quickly out of her mouth,

“To 601 Lexington” Arabella said as she bit her lips and fidgeted with the large emerald cut diamond resting on her ring finger.

When her car arrived in front of the tall building she knew Harvey to be working at she sighed loudly and chewed on the inside of her mouth. She hesitated exiting her car when her driver opened the door for her, but she knew that if she didn’t leave and go see Harvey now, that she would never get the chance to.

Clutching tightly to her black Birkin handbag, the sound of her heels hitting loudly on the pavement, she smiled at her driver and let him know that she’ll call him when her business is done.

Using her husband’s last name as a means to enter into the building she went straight to the law offices bearing Harvey’s name and when she arrived she once again used her husband’s last name as a means to gain a private audience with Harvey.

Arabella could feel eyes on her as she was escorted to Harvey’s office. She knew very well that her husband’s last name made everyone around her both intrigued and nervous.

Arabella kept her head high as she walked through curious waves of eyes and when she reached to Harvey’s office she saw the man she once loved on the phone and doing his best not to act as though he’s seen a ghost.

“I can take you to a conference room, Mrs. Bollore” Harvey’s assistant chimed in as she stood up from her desk.

Arabella smiled at Donna as she glanced at her, with her red hair, her brown eyes and confident stature, Arabella quickly surmised why Harvey kept her close.

“I’m fine here.” Arabella said as she stayed standing in front of Harvey’s office, her blue eyes locked right onto Harvey’s brown eyes.

 

[bdt147]

Harvey pressed the send icon and watched as the green line crawled its way across the phone's screen. When the "whoop" sound signaled his text was successfully sent, Harvey placed his phone back in his pocket and walked over to the bar and poured himself another Scotch.

As he looked out at the city, its' myriad lights shining through the floor to ceiling windows, Harvey thought about the evening's events. Things didn't go exactly as planned. Instead of enjoying the company of a hot 20 something blond, here he was,once again, thrown back into that time where his whole life revolved around Ara. Seeing and talking to her tonight were very real and painful reminders of how much her leaving affected him.

Tonight he realized that Kara and all the other women in his post Ara life were just her surrogates. Yes, physically he would have been eating and fucking Kara tonight but he knew deep down inside, it was Ara he really wanted in his bed.

His bed. Just another example of Ara's influence. Harvey always made sure his housekeeper made his bed with the crimson red satin sheets whenever he was having an overnight "guest." Those red sheets reminded him of the very last time he and Ara made love, the night before she left for France. Of course, those sheets weren't satin but the color was almost identical. That night, they made love for hours. It was so intense, so heated, it bordered on animalistic. They couldn't te enough of each other. Harvey ate Ara for what seemed like forever, as she instructed him where to go with his mouth and tongue, how hard and fast to lick and nibble. He remembered placing his hands underneath her firm ass, lifting her off the bed while he twirled his tongue around her rock hard clit. Ara's whole body stiffened then exploded in waves of orgasmic spasms, quaking and writhing in pure bliss. He also remembered on embarrassed she was when they noticed the huge dark wet spot she left on those crappy 200 count red sheets. Now it was Harvey's goal to make sure each one of his Karas left the same wet spot.

Now, as he stood at the foot of his perfectly made bed, the glow from the soft, dim can lights reflecting a satiny glaze off those sheets, Harvey realized how much of an impact Ara had on his life. The ache in his groin was hard to ignore. He wanted so much to release that huge load of cum building inside, thinking about his Ara. But he knew that would only make him sadder. He finished his Scotch and fell into bed.

On the drive to work the next morning, all he could think about was what might happen if Ara showed up tonight. Where would they begin. Would he get angry, tell her how she hurt him, how she fucked up his entire life. His mind was still a jumble as he walked passed Donna and settled in behind his desk and began counting backwards from ten.

"What's wrong Harvey?" Donna asked just as he reached five.

"Nothing and it took you a whole five seconds to ask. Get out of here. I've got calls to make."

Harvey picked up the phone and started to dial, when he heard some commotion outside his office. He had a very strict policy about "walk-ins" and Donna was very good at keeping unwanted and unscheduled clients at bay. Out of curiosity, he looked up to see who might be the target of Donna's wrath. Colleagues labeled Harvey unflappable but he became unglued when his eyes met Ara's who was standing outside his door.

Quickly, Harvey hit the intercom.

"Donna, please show Mrs. Bollore into the office."

 

[summergal21]

Arabella carefully watched Harvey as they locked eyes. She had to admit, she was very proud of her first love having a corner office at one of New York’s most prestigious law firms.

As high school sweethearts she always imagined the two happily married. She would be working at the Metropolitan Museum of Art as an art restorer with opportunities to travel the world and he would have a fancy office in the city doing whatever he excelled at best. When the two were dating Harvey had not yet figured out “what he wanted to do” with his life. This did worry Arabella, especially as they were both nearing their college graduation. Harvey had talked about law school but never took, at least from what Arabella knew, any forward steps to become a lawyer till after they had broken up.

If Harvey had made plans that he was going to Harvard law, that he was going to be known as the best closer in the city…would Arabella have chosen to stay with Harvey and not started a relationship with Pierre?

Possibly.

Arabella felt responsible for Harvey in choosing to study at NYU. Columbia was Arabella’s first choice since the age of 3. Being a legacy and with her grandparents being close with the head of the school, she never assumed she would go anywhere other than Columbia. But Harvey, who always assumed he would make his name with baseball, didn’t have a first choice school.

All he wanted was to be close with Arabella.

Arabella admired and was humbled Harvey made his college decision based on her, but she always felt responsible, she didn’t want Harvey to make his life decisions based on her, she wanted him to live his life, not just be the partner to hers…

Arabella knew how crushing it was when Harvey got injured and the prospects of playing in the Major Leagues were taken away from him. She knew how much baseball meant to him. And perhaps it was her that made it possible for Harvey to not be stuck in a depression after baseball was taken away from him…but it also perhaps made him forget his own desires and just focus on Arabella, which was not a life he wanted him to live.

Arabella always wondered if she had forced him to come to New York…

But now as she kept her eyes on Harvey’s dark eyes, with him sitting comfortably in the corner office of a prestigious law firm, Arabella wondered, just if how much different her life would have been if she stayed with him..

Donna opened the door for her and Arabella stepped into Harvey’s office.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Specter.” Arabella pressed her lips as she called him by his last name. Her lips wanted to say ‘Harvey’ but she kept them closed, she wanted to keep their past relationship discreet from prying ears and eyes.

Holding tightly to the handles of her Birkin as if they kept her anchored Arabella allowed her lips to move, “I know you asked for a later time, but this works for me…” Arabella said with pursed lips. She usually despised barging in on people, but she had picked up a bit from her husband in being assertive.

Arabella then sat on one of the couches in Harvey’s office.

“You said there was something you wanted to talk about?” Her voice was strong and pushy, but inside she was trembling, she was shaking she was not ready at all to talk to her first love.

 

[bdt147]

"Good to see you again, Mr. Specter."

Arabella strode confidently into Harvey's office.

"Yes, it's good to see you again as well, Mrs. Bollore."

Harvey put special emphasis on the "Mrs. Bollore" for Donna's benefit.

"Excuse me just a minute. I need to speak to Donna. Go ahead and................"

The "please have a seat" part of the sentence went unsaid, as Arabella walked over to one of the couches as if she owned the place. As she settled in, Harvey stepped outside and went over to Donna's desk. He grabbed the phone line cord from Donna's telephone and unplugged it.

"If I come out of this meeting and see that this cord is back in your phone, you will be out on the street looking for another job before lunch."

As Harvey turned and walked back into his office, he didn't see the surprised look on Donna's face since Harvey knew she listened in on every conversation that took place in his office. But what might be discussed between Arabella and him was strictly off limits for her, or anyone else. Arabella and what they had 20 some years ago was something that only his brother, father and he knew about. Now that his father was dead, it was just his brother. Harvey was going to make sure it stayed way.

"I know you asked for a later time but this works for me."

It took a lot of fortitude for Harvey not to tell her well itdoesn't work for me and why are you acting like such s pushy bitch but he held his tongue.

"You said there was something you wanted to talk about?"

Arabella was seated directly behind Harvey's extensive record collection. He was tempted to walk over and retrieve the only Rick Springfield album he had. Harvey really didn't like Rick Springfield and people were shocked upon discovering it. Harvey just brushed it off to his eclectic tastes.

The real reason he owned that album was for one song and one song alone. It was a song that somehow spoke to him about Arabella's leaving him. Every time he listened to "Don't Talk to Strangers" it reminded him of three things. Was that guy he saw last evening that "slick continental dude?" And did she "fall first sight or did she need a shove?" And finally "love hurts when only one's in love." Was he really the only one in love?

The Arabella that walked into his office was full of herself. Harvey didn't get this far in his career without being able to detect false bravado when he saw it. On the surface she appeared very self-assured. Her body language spoke a whole other language.

"Yes there is something, no make that a lot, to talk about. But this is neither the time nor the place. So, you have my address. I'm expecting you this evening at eight. Don't be late. You know how much promptness means to me."

Harvey got up and walked over and opened his office door.

"Donna, would you please show Mrs. Bollore out."

 

[summergal21]

Arabella could see the annoyance in Harvey’s eyes. She expected this but to see it and be in his frustrated presence made the already uncomfortable Arabella uneasy.

She carefully watched Harvey talk with Donna, she could sense from both of their body language and they way they interacted with one another that they were close, perhaps a lot closer than what one would expect between a lawyer and his secretary.

Arabella sat and waited in the seat she chose for herself, her back straightened, her head held up high, her eyes glancing towards the view of the city, the city she called home with Harvey for almost 4 years.

When Harvey entered back in the room and she started talking she was anxious to hear his reply. She expected Harvey to spill with all the overflowing emotions and thoughts he had ever since she chose Pierre over Harvey. She expected Harvey to yell at her, she expected to hear harsh and mean words from him. She knew she deserved it…

Harvey looked at her in a skeptical manner. His brows furrowed a bit, his eyes slightly narrow as he studied Arabella. Arabella kept her composure, not wanting to crumble underneath the anxiety she felt as she sat in the room with Harvey.

"Yes there is something, no make that a lot, to talk about. But this is neither the time nor the place. So, you have my address. I'm expecting you this evening at eight. Don't be late. You know how much promptness means to me."

His words echoed in Arabella’s ears and it took her a moment to process them. This was the last thing she expected Harvey to say and she tried to form a sentence to rebuttal him, but she was lost for words. Harvey quickly walked to his door and opened it, asking for Donna to show Arabella out.

Arabella’s mind quickly raced.

“No need.” Arabella quickly stood up as she regained her composure.

“And…” Arabella sighed as she looked at Harvey and then at her shiny, blue-blooded engagement ring. Arabella wanted to add something, she wanted to tell Harvey that the only reason why she came here, right now wasn’t because she was trying to be controlling or annoying as Harvey had at times accused her during their arguments. But because she was afraid of her husband…

Arabella gently shook her head as she sighed and closed her lips. She glanced at Donna and gave her a polite smile. “Thank you,” the words instinctively left Arabella’s lips. She knew the words seemed out of place,but she wanted to thank Donna for taking care of Harvey. She hoped Donna would understand the meaning behind her words but she was assumed that they would be lost to the confused and curious Donna.

Arabella could feel the eyes of everyone in Harvey’s office on her as she walked along its hallways. Her mind turned as it tried to write an excuse for her husband if he questioned why she stopped by 601 Lexington. But her mind was more worried about carving out a reason for her to be absent from her room at night.

With how busy Pierre was with his work, it would be safe to assume that he would once again spend the night in his office. But that wasn’t certain… With a heavy sigh Arabella returned back to her town car and had her driver drive her to an address she requested several times since her arrival to New York.

“To the Metropolitan Art Museum please.”

By the time night had fallen, Arabella was sitting across the table from her husband at the restaurant located at their hotel. Arabella wanted to make something in the kitchen attached to their rooms, but Pierre tended to complain of how the hotel suite would smell after she used the stoves. Not wanting to upset her husband, Arabella went along with her husband’s wishes.

Pierre seemed to have his mind heavily on work, but he made the effort to be there for his wife. The couple made small talk and the two held hands as they waited for dinner. This made Arabella happy but it also made her nervous.

Would she make it in time to meet Harvey? A part of Arabella wanted to ignore Harvey’s invitation. She made the attempt to see him earlier in the day yet it was he who turned her away. Yet there was betrayal in Harvey’s eyes that she had never seen in him before which she felt responsible.

By the time the couple finished their dinner, it was a quarter till 8. Pierre could feel an uneasiness in his wife, which made him curious but he tried to think little of it as all he wanted to do was to go back to his hotel room and spend some time in between his wife’s legs before he went to sleep in his bed.

Not wanting to upset her husband, Arabella went with her husband’s lazy attempt at seduction. The usual arm around the waist as they walked back to their hotel room, the string of whispers in French with an added kiss on the cheek. By the time the couple arrived back in their hotel room, it was expected for Arabella to be on her knees and have her mouth open wide.

Once Pierre was content with his own erection, he went through the motions of pleasuring Arabella with his lips and tongue. Arabella moaned as she always did and when Pierre was satisfied with how wet she was he plunged his thick, long manhood inside of her. He thrusted inside of her like a jack hammer until he was finished, with no regards to Arabella’s pleasure. He was usually attentive to Arabella’s satisfaction as well but he tended to ignore it when he was under stress or too tired.

No later than 5 minutes after Pierre finished inside of Arabella he was sound asleep in their bed. His back faced to her as he needed his own space to sleep comfortably. Arabella wrapped the bed sheets close to her body and for a moment she thought about leaving her husband’s side and making her way to Harvey’s. But for the fear of disturbing her husband’s sleep she obediently closed her eyes and waited for sleep to envelop her slender body.

Either out of a curse or luck Arabella woke up 90 minutes later. Pierre’s back still faced her which frustrated the loving Arabella. She wanted to lay in his arms, feel his warmth, his skin on hers, but perhaps this was her way out of the bed she shared with her husband.

As if adrenaline was the only thing fueling Arabella, she slowly and carefully got out of her bed and went into the walk in closet to get changed in her gym clothes, along with her Columbia hoodie. It wasn't completely out of Arabella’s nature to turn to exercise when she felt stressed and uneasy. Lacing her sneakers she softly and carefully left the hotel suite, down the elevators and left the Carlyle and into a taxi to Harvey’s apartment.

By the time Arabella arrived to Harvey’s apartment it was close to midnight. Till she reached Harvey’s door, Arabella was certain and confident with her actions. But now as she knocked on his door and then rang the doorbell she felt her heart pounding in her chest. Her nerves on high alert as she chewed on the inside of her mouth, her fingers playing with her ponytail, her eyes looking forward, wondering if Harvey would answer the door.

 

[bdt147]

As he watched Arabella walk down the hall with Donna close behind her, Harvey collapsed into his chair. He sat there, brooding, regretting the way he spoke to Ara, Yes, he was upset. Yes, she fucked him over. However, when all was said and done, Harvey still loved her. All that vitriol, she didn't deserve that. But what upset him the most was he knew Ara would not have shown up unannounced without a good reason. He still knew her well enough to know her visit had a purpose. His own sense of false bravado prevented him from finding out what that was. By the way she acted, he knew it was something more than coming to apologize for what happened 20 years ago.

When Donna returned she started toward Harvey's door. Harvey shot her a look that screamed, "Not now, not never." Their non-verbal communication was sometimes better than the spoken word. She turned right around and sat at her desk. Leaning over, she picked up the disconnected phone cord, held it high so Harvey could see it and defiantly jammed it back into her phone. Then she gave him the finger.

Harvey muddled through the rest of the morning unable to get his mind off of Ara. Finally, just before noon, he told Donna to reschedule his afternoon meetings because he was leaving for the rest of the day. There was nothing to be accomplished by remaining at the office.

As soon as he got home, Harvey poured himself a Scotch and hoped the alcohol would numb the guilt he felt for being such an arrogant prick that morning. For the next six hours, Harvey sat and drank, He tried to listen to music, tried to watch a movie, but every album he selected, every movie he choose somehow brought him right back to Ara. Funny how much a part of his life she remained.

Harvey considered going over to the bar to see if Kara was working. He quickly nixed that idea because that would make things worse. Ara looked really good this morning and seeing Kara would only remind him on how much he still wanted Ara in his bed. There were times Harvey would pretend it was Ara he was bringing to an earth shattering orgasm, Ara's warm wet pussy he was eating and filling with his cum. The more he thought about her, the more he wanted that surrogate to cum. He remembered on how those women would tell him how good a lover he was. Little did they know, it was Ara he was pleasing not them.

So he just sat there and drank, waiting for his clock to chime eight times. When it chimed for the ninth and tenth time, he figured she wasn't going to show. He thought about going to bed but decided to have one more drink.

He must have dozed off since it was almost midnight when the sound of the doorbell startled him awake. Still dressed in his office attire, he got up from the couch and weaved his way toward the door. It took him two tries to grasp the doorknob but finally grabbed hold and twisted it.

Standing in front him as the door swung open was Ara, wearing a Columbia sweatshirt and some sweat pants. With her hair in a ponytail, she looked just like the Ara from twenty years ago. A smile came to Harvey's face.

"Ara. Please come in."

 

[summergal21]

Ara didn’t expect Harvey to welcome her into his apartment. She was sure he would see her and close the door on her, not only because she was late but because of the bitterness he showed her earlier this morning. She knew she had upset him when she arrived at his office, uninvited and now she was hours late to their meeting.

Ara could smell the scotch on Harvey’s breath and she could tell from his sleepy eyes that she had woken him up.

“I’m sorry,” Ara quickly quipped as she entered into Harvey’s apartment. She wanted to keep her eyes on Harvey but she couldn’t help herself study the inside of her former lover’s living quarters. Everywhere oozed his mentality, sleek, to the point and most importantly that hint of wonder, mystery that always sparkled in Harvey’s eyes.

“I’m sorry…” Ara repeated she was still standing at the entrance of Harvey’s apartment. By the second time she apologized she wasn’t sure if she was apologizing for being late, for sleeping with her husband before she came to see Harvey, for barging in to his office earlier that day, or for choosing Harvey over Pierre.

“I’m really sorry…” Ara said again, this time her face hot with emotions she couldn’t explain, her blue eyes filled with tears looking back at Harvey. All she wanted was to jump into Harvey’s arms, straddle her long legs around him and feel his soft lips on hers…but she didn’t choose him, she chose Pierre. This time she was apologizing to herself for choosing Pierre over her first love, Harvey.