Arundel Publishing Company

Author: Ara May

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing.

A/N: This follows Gilmore Girls canon and starts in 2011, a myriad of flashbacks to fill in some blanks notwithstanding.

Chapter One: An Article in the New York Times

Caroline was a stunning woman. Her dark tresses reached just past her clavicle. Her presence was always a welcome sight for him. This time was different though.

They had met at a book signing. She wasn't some crazed fan of his latest work another short novel (he actually did have those, God only knew why), a bittersweet story—he hated to call it anything related to love—about two people who never met, albeit their histories entwined a great deal. No, in fact Caroline was one of the haute society types who attended functions with one hand gripped on a glass of chardonnay at all times who worked in public relations. As he saw her approach, his lips curled into a smirk that was exclusively his: discreet at times, constantly oozing a feeling of sexy confidence. It was a reaction out of his control. Simultaneously, he felt his stomach drop. His thoughts quickly drifted to their first meeting.

He had caught her staring. Her eyes began to sparkle as she realized he saw her. He was caught by surprise when they began to dart back at him in challenge instead of the usual evasive maneuvering that would usually accompany one when being caught checking somebody out. A blush didn't rise to her cheeks. He was intrigued. It was the first time she had seen that smirk of his.

As he stood next to her, he watched as she downed the nearly full glass of her white wine in one gulp.

"Alcoholic?" was the first word that escaped his mouth.

She raised an eyebrow, a neatly manicured work of art. A sweet voice retorted with ease. "Recovering."

"Generally a problem in the society set I hear."

"A little presumptive, you think?" She used an index finger to push her glasses slightly up the bridge of her nose. Dark red in color and thick framed. Burberry.

"Designer glasses," he eyed the black dress she was wearing, an obvious ruse that he was observing every curve of her body, "what looks to be a designer dress." He reached her eyes once more, brown and full of golden flecks, "I can only assume." He finished casually.

"You gay?" Her expression was amused.

He nearly scoffed. "Absolutely. That's why I came up to you when I caught you staring." He could see a slight blush finally creep into her tanned features. He continued, "Nah, ex-girlfriend. Really into fashion." He made a wave of his hands, signifying the fact that he really didn't give a shit.

"And you paid attention?"

His smirk grew wider as his voice lowered an octave, "She provided the sex."

She grinned at his bluntness, revealing perfect teeth. "Definitely not gay then."

He leaned into her, huskily whispering into her ear. "It was really, really good sex." He watched as goose bumps rose over her revealed shoulder.

She broke eye contact, the pull becoming too strong, and looked down at her wine glass. A mere drop remained. "I think I'm going to need another." It was said under her breath.

She looked up to see a teasing smile. "Junkie."

An average, yet adorable laugh escaped her lips. Very full lips, he noticed. "Friends call me Caroline. Caroline Martin."

"Huh. Funny. My friends call me a douchebag."

She playfully slapped him like she had known him for years and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise at the contact. His smile grew wider, "Feisty." She gave him a stern look. "Name's Jess. Jess Mariano."

She rolled her eyes. "I prefer douchebag."

Jess had known Caroline for a little over a year now. To say she enchanted him when they first met would be an understatement. An author of very few words—monosyllabic was the one word that those who had ever had a conversation with Jess described him as—he had grown up in New York City. When he was seventeen, his somewhat psychotic mother placed him under the care of his uncle in a loony bin town known as Stars Hollow. Following that stint, he escaped to California, briefly crashing with his never present father before heading back to the city he had grown up in. A job in publishing beckoned him to Philadelphia, as did the cheaper rent. Ultimately he found himself back to New York City, albeit in a nicer neighborhood with a roommate who most likely didn't have a warrant out for his arrest. One thing Stars Hollow had taught him was that he liked the anonymity of city life: Nobody was watching you, waiting for you to fuck up. One thing his life taught him was that it often came full circle.

"Hey there, you." She smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek in greeting.

"Hey."

"You haven't seen me in about two months and all you say is 'Hey'?"

"You know me, say one thing while I briefly get my head around that torturous thing you're wearing." It was a tight fitting red dress with thick straps around the shoulders. It dipped enticingly low down her back and ended just above her knees. "Not to mention the fact that those heels are so high your feet are practically vertical."

She smiled and rolled her eyes, "This is nothing!"

"I wish you were wearing just that." It came out instinctually, like a bad habit. He forgot he was mad at her the second she greeted him and became irritated at himself when he found himself flirting with her.

"What's that?" She didn't quite catch on as quickly as she would have wished. He had already replied when she understood what he was saying.

"I like it when you're naked." He said it normal volume, almost trying to make things more awkward than they already were.

She chuckled but cut it short as it was forced out in the first place. "I was a little slow on that one."

He was able to bring up his walls and just shrugged. "So, how's Boston?"

"Historical." She panned, noticing the sudden drop of playfulness in his voice.

"That's what they say." A beat. "What brings you to my beloved city?"

"Oh you know, the usual. Conference. PR stuff." She started to twirl her hair as a distraction. "Heard they were throwing you a little party here."

"Fascinating." It was all he could muster to say. Yes, in some ways, he was happy to see her. Their relationship, if it could be considered a relationship at all, wasn't exactly exclusive in the last few months they were together. After dating solely seeing one another for six months she had decided that she was going to work for a PR firm in Boston and since they were to be based in two different cities they decided it would be better if they just ended what they had started. As much they cared for one another, they knew it wouldn't be fair to either of them to continue their romance when they were both so busy and didn't have the time to leave their respective cities on a regular basis. In the interim, there wasn't really a way to define whatever it was they were other than a 'friends with benefits' kind of situation. When he last saw her two months ago, she told him she had met someone. They hadn't done so much as talked since.

She looked him with sad eyes, "I've missed you."

He smirked at that one, "Good to hear."

"So…an article in the New York Times about you. Can you believe it?"

He smiled, proud of his accomplishment. "It's got a very surreal feeling to it. I can't say it's deserved though."

"You managed to get an article in the fucking New York Times, Jess! How can you say it's not deserved?"

He shrugged, "Had an in with the journalist."

Her smiling façade dropped, "Was she a she?"

"Excuse me?"

"The journalist. Was she a she?"

"Does it matter?"

"I don't know. If she is a she, then the whole having an in with the journalist can take a very gross turn."

He shook his head. "If you're that interested, yes she's a she. But no, I didn't sleep with her if that's where you're going with this"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean who I sleep with should be of no concern to you."

"You slept with me, that concerns me."

"Ah, but remember, you left. Therefore anybody else I've slept with since really has nothing to do with you."

"I'm the one who wanted to stay together, remember?"

He furrowed his brows together, "I really don't think this an appropriate time to have this conversation, Caroline." He gestured around to all of the guests at the party his publishing house was throwing for him while swiftly buttoning the coat of his suit. A moment passed where she looked at him, her eyes began to get glossy. He relented, "How long are you in town for?"

"Until tomorrow afternoon."

"Why don't you swing by my apartment before you leave? We can talk then. Without witnesses."

She took a step back from him, "If that's what you want."

"Well, sweetheart," his tone rose slightly, "I've been perfectly content not speaking to you at all the last two months, but since you show up out of the blue, I really have no choice. You know what they say, can't keep the chatty restrained."

She laughed slightly, "Who the hell says that?"

His face remained stoic, refusing to weaken by a laugh he had once fallen in love with, "I do. Now if you'll excuse me, the bar is over there if you're interested."

"I'll be by around noon?"

"Sure." He walked away and she watched as he approached a petite brunette who was standing around a bunch of men in business suits. Caroline looked over toward the bar before deciding it was best to just leave. Tomorrow, they would talk.

"Mr. Mariano, may I say that this one just wrote you a spectacular review. You'll be on the Bestseller's List in no time!" Jacob Arundel announced as he reached over to put a hand on the brunette's shoulder momentarily. He was an older man with a pudgy face and an overgrown mustache. He owned the Arundel Publishing Company, the first enterprise Jess had found willing to publish one of his works in a quantity over five hundred copies.

Brown eyes met blue as he replied. "They'll be surely disappointed when they realize her writing is a million times more impressive as mine." He watched as a deep blush invaded her freckled skin and she began to bite on her bottom lip, a nervous habit.

The mustached man seemed to ignore Jess and began to speak to the woman, "Miss Gilmore, I'm surprised you'd actually review something released by such a small publishing company."

"Well, Jess is an old friend, so of course I'd read it. Surprisingly one of the better works I've read this year. It deserved publicity." She gave Jess a look.

He arched an eyebrow, "Surprisingly? Now there's a low blow." She stuck her tongue out at him teasingly when she knew the older man was no longer looking, distracted by another man in a suit. He nudged his head to the side as she looked at him, indicated that she should trail him.

He walked toward the bar and instinctively knew that she was following him without once taking a look back. He ordered a vodka tonic and a second later could hear her voice, "Make that two, please." Always so polite.

"Well, Miss Gilmore, I believe I owe you some gratitude."

Her face scrunched up as the bartender gave them both their drinks. They walked a little ways from the bar, but still lingered close by. "Jess, please don't call me that." She was smiling at him.

"Alright, Lorelai." She glared at him and he put his hands up in mock fear, "I'd call you something else, but I remember how much you hated all those names I made up for you."

She rolled her eyes, "That was like eight years ago, and those names were so cutesy! If I ever told my mother about them, she'd probably be laughing her ass off until the day she died."

"Huh." He smirked. "Well Rory," the name slipped off his tongue with great ease, "thank you. You didn't have to."

"Of course I didn't have to. But seriously, one of the greatest things I've ever read. And we both know how much I read."

Her eyelashes were thickly coated in mascara, her eyes heavily lined as well. She had certainly matured into a woman, but the very essence of the girl he had met years ago was still there. "I just mean, we haven't spoken in…a while…and then I get a call from Jacob telling me about this raving review my book got in the Times! Then there's your name on the byline and I just…thank you."

She laughed, face smug. "Told you so."

He shook his head in disbelief. "You never did put away those pompoms."

"And you are a better man for it." She sipped on her drink and made a sour expression. "This is disgusting."

"Sorry, not everyone knows how to make the 'Rory.'" She shot him a confused expression. "Luke alluded. I got a kick out of it." He chuckled.

"Ah. So who was the girl? Girlfriend?" Her eyes questioned him with full confidence, almost like she was daring him to venture into fragile territory with her.

"Nice segue," he smirked. "Spying on me, Gilmore?"

"I'm a journalist, they pay me to be observant."

"True, but you review books. They pay you to do what you love. Mid-twenties and you've already landed your dream job. People should be envious."

"I blame my stubborn optimism." A beat. "So…"

"Her name's Caroline."

"She's pretty. Why'd she leave the party?"

"It's what she's good at."

"Ah, something you have in common." His face darkened, "I'm sorry…it just slipped."

"S'okay. I deserved that."

"No you didn't. It's been a long time. God knows I've done more than enough to get back at you." She looked down at her shoes and evened out a wrinkle in her dress. Her ability to go from confident to shy in a second was amazing. He thought back to last seeing her, at Luke and Lorelai's wedding two years ago. The time before that they had kissed when she came to see him in Philadelphia. That was five years ago. There were emails every now and then, but it had really been a long time since they'd actually come face to face.

They stood in silence as they both sipped at their drinks. It wasn't the least bit awkward. When their eyes met again, he looked at her with sincerity, "Truce?"

She full out laughed, "I feel like we're twelve."

"Give or take a few years," he quipped.

"Do I just say 'truce' or is a pinky swear required?"

"What would make you feel better?"

"I would definitely say that a pinky swear would make it more official."

He took her empty glass out of her hand and walked the few steps to the bar to set both now empty containers on the bar. As he walked back to her he held out his pinky, an amused grin gracing his features.

She held out her pinky and they joined their digits together. She closed her eyes as if making a wish. He shook his head at her ridiculousness but she couldn't see. "I pinky swear that Jess and I have a truce and that we're even now."

He scoffed as they let their hands fall to their sides and she opened her eyes. "You're six years old, I swear."

"Add twenty years and you're spot on, mister!" He kept smiling at her. "You smile a lot now."

"Huh. I must be a very happy boy."

"No, but seriously. You've dropped the angst."

"Hey, I still have angst. It's my prerogative as the brooding author type."

"Yeah, well there's less of it."

"Fair assessment, Gilmore."

There was a pause in their conversation, "So, Caroline…she your girlfriend?" He could tell she was biting the inside of her cheek as she asked.

"Oh look at the time! I have to go mingle… or something." He didn't care enough to make up an excuse. She knew what he was doing and he had no desire to lie to her.

"Unless hell has frozen over, you have no desire to talk to any of these people." Her lips formed a soft and knowing smile.

He sighed. "Tell you what, you let this go now and I promise I'll explain later."

"So, she's an ex? Just answer the question and I promise I won't say anything else about it tonight."

"Let it go…" He rolled his eyes.

"C'mon Jess. Little hint and I won't ask you for details until whenever this later thing comes."

He relented. "Yeah, she's an ex."

"Was that really that hard?"

"Not as hard as it is will be for you right now to drop the subject entirely." He smirked at her.

"But…"

"No."

"What if?"

"No." Jess said it with more authority this time, albeit it still had a tone of humor.

"Mean." She mock glared at him.

"No, mean would be me asking you about your love life."

Rory dropped her glared, "Okay, I'm done."

"How is Adam, by the way?"

"Okay this conversation is done." She glanced at her watch, "Waving my white flag. I should get going at any rate."

"You're being evasive."

"True as that might be, it's actually pretty late."

"You live close by?"

"A couple blocks."

"I'll walk you." He offered nonchalantly.