Suits: A Lawyer Surviving TV Chaos

Based on prior experience, large mergers in traditional industries often drag on indefinitely. Martin wasn't in a rush—assign tasks, follow procedures, and let the two families decide. Unlike Harvey Specter, who pushed for "win-win" deals, Martin simply laid out the data for clients. Success? Irrelevant. After all, he billed by the hour. 

In his office, Martin cracked his stiff neck and glanced at his Jaeger-LeCoultre Master Control. **9:07 PM.** 

After a lazy weekend, Monday's workload hit like a truck. *Hard work breeds progress; laziness breeds comfort—wise words from ancient and modern alike.* At least this nightmare Monday was over. 

He saved and backed up files, stretched, and left his office. 

"Done for the day. Want to Grab a bite?" he asked Rachel Zane, still buried in paperwork. 

She shook her head wearily. "Mondays are hell. I just want to sleep." 

Martin grinned. "Cheer up—Black Friday's in four days. What'll you splurge on? Chanel No. 5?" 

"I make lists, but always end up with junk I don't need," Rachel sighed, packing up. 

"That's why sociologists and psychologists get paid so much," Martin said. "They hijack your senses, tricking you into 'needing' things. Want proof? I'll introduce you to my neurology PhD friends." 

"That's evil!" Rachel huffed.

"Legalized robbery!" countered martin

Laughing, they rode the elevator to the parking garage. After parting ways, Martin hesitated, then drove to The Cheesecake Factory where Penny worked—though guilt lingered. *Seeing Caroline again so soon might seem like cashing in favors.* 

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Compared to Williamsburg diners, The Cheesecake Factory was pristine. *At least the chef looks like he washes his hands.* Martin parked and sat at Penny's section to boost her tips. 

"Usual order?" Penny asked, pad in hand. 

"Double cheeseburger, ham-egg sandwich, fried chicken, and iced OJ." 

She gaped. "Trying to explode? Or did some breakup kill your gym routine?" 

"Neither. My brain's starved for sugar post-Monday chaos. I could eat a whole cow." 

"Poor thing," Penny cooed, massaging his shoulders. "You're overworked, *honey*." 

Martin slumped. "Transitioning from lazy days to merger prep whiplash. Worth it, though. Deals pay better than lawsuits. Remember that vehicular manslaughter case? Ran around for a week for only $20k." 

Penny froze. *a $300k lawyer wants pitty from a $15/hour server ? Since when?* Annoyed, she ruffled his slicked hair into a *visual kei* mess. 

Martin chuckled, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his collar to match the disheveled look. *Good genes let you rock any style.* 

When Penny returned with two heaping plates, Martin demolished the food shamelessly—ham-egg sandwich in three bites, burger torn into. His gusto made the meal look Michelin-starred. 

"Finally alive. Damn Monday," he groaned, leaning back. 

Penny slid into the booth across from him. 

"are servers allowed to stare at customers?" he teased. 

"I'm off soon. You're my last table." She hesitated. "Need a ride?" 

As Martin nibbled a wrap, he noticed her fidgeting. *Why do all women look at me like this today?* 

"Penny, spit it out." 

"Leonard asked me out Friday. Dinner, movie… He's sweet, but…" She faltered. "He's a physicist with a real career. I'm just a wannabe actress stuck waitressing. Does that… make sense?" 

Martin parsed her rambling. *Ah—she's insecure.* 

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*(End of Chapter)*