Disclaimer: Still not mine, still no money involved, still just having fun messing around with the charachters heads and hearts. Still happy?
A/N: Let me tell you, that this may be the first and only story I ever translate into another language. It's such a pain to do and it takes me forever to translate and those shitty (*sorry*) translation-programs always mess everything up. Just wanted to warn you. Thanks to my awesome reviewers, you're lovely! :) And special thanks once again Kass for betaing. You're my hero, Kass! Nough said, on with the show! ;) Remember: Reviews are love.
Chapter 2 – Application Day
CMC Publishing Inc. was the most prestigious and oldest publishing house in the eastern United States. With offices in Boston, Philadelphia, Miami, Washington DC and the headquarters in New York, it was also the largest and best known in the industry.
On the day of her appointment Rory dressed herself in a nice business-suit, put on her stunning Louboutin's, and took the subway to CMC Publishing Inc.'s headquarters, somewhere in the south of New York City.
She arrived in front of a skyscraper. The entrance was huge and modern, and nearly exclusively made of glass and metal. Rory looked a little nervous after constantly seeing people flowing in and out of the building. Through the huge glass windows she discovered a long reception desk, as well as the security gates, which she was to pass through on her way to the elevators. She strengthened her grip on her briefcase, took one last deep breath, and finally headed for the entrance.
It was her third job interview this week, but at the same time it was the most important for her. Being able to establish yourself a career at CMC Publishing was the same as welcoming the world with open arms. Whatever she wanted to do in life. If she was able to get this job the doors were wide open for her. Unless another company offered her the opportunity of a lifetime. Which she really doubted would happen.
Rory stepped through the large glass door and headed to the reception desk with the security guy. He was a tall, dark-skinned man with no hair and deep wrinkles between the eyebrows, which he probably had contracted constantly.
"Good morning," she greeted him friendly, smile on her face (the famous and charming one), "Lorelai Gilmore. I have an appointment."
The man nodded, checked his list and nodded again. He held a plastic tub out to her, in which Rory placed her purse, keys and briefcase. Then she stepped through the security scan, which gave no signal on its own. She then took her belongings back and smiled at the giant man once again.
"40th floor," were his first and only words.
The young woman nodded her understanding before she stepped in front of the elevator doors. A few seconds elapsed before the 'ding' was heard, the steel doors slid aside and Rory Gilmore was on her way to the interview that would change her life forever.
oOo
A beautiful, blond lady held out a clipboard with a questionnaire to her and told her that the interview would start in a few minutes.
Rory sat down on a large sofa in the corner of the reception area and started to fill out the sheet of paper full of questions. She recorded her full name, address and date of birth, her Social Security number, phone number, nationality and a few other details that needed to be known by her potential future employers.
"Gloria", a voice interrupted Rory's scribbling and made her look up, "my coffee and the New York Times please. Thank you." The addressed receptionist nodded and smiled. She accepted the proffered cloak and tucked it away seconds later in a hidden closet behind the reception counter. The person who had just spoken, was a handsome man in his late twenties, early thirties. He wore a black suit, his stature was small but well formed and his eyes were already focused back on his Blackberry.
He had disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
Moments later, the blonde lady from before rushed from her seat – Rory assumed that she was Gloria – with a huge cup of coffee in hand, and the New York Times under her arm. It was not long before she was back and stopped in front of Rory.
"If you would like to follow me, Miss Gilmore."
Her nervousness was now somewhat noticeable, because when she got up from the sofa the clipboard with the questionnaire slipped to the floor. With a shy smile, she picked it up, but the lady had already turned away and was leading the way to the room where the interview was going to be held.
Rory rushed after her hastily and almost fell over her own feet. She was only able to catch the wall at the very last moment.
"Okay, calm down, Rory!", she whispered to herself, straightened her shoulders, put on her charming smile and followed Gloria once again.
A little while later, she stood in an open office door, the blond woman had taken the clipboard from her hands and her eyes fell on the dark-haired man from a few minutes ago.
His gaze was fixed on some papers on his desk and for a few moments it seemed as if he had not noticed her. But then he looked up and his amazing, hazel-brown eyes met hers. He directly looked at her and never broke eye contact.
"Miss Gilmore," he finally greeted, "please, come closer, take a seat." He pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"Thank you" Rory replied and took a seat only moments later. He grabbed some documents from his desk, leaned back in his chair and struck one leg over the other. For another short while he immersed himself in the papers, every now and then half a grin slipped on his face, but other than that he didn't utter a word.
She nearly fell from the chair when he finally – and very suddenly – spoke: "How old were you when you read Ayn Rand for the first time?"
The question confused her a bit. How did he know that she had read Rand? Only a second later she remembered that it had been on her application. She regained her composure quickly and replied: "Ten."
"Ten?" it came back, amazed.
"Yes," she smiled, "but I didn't understand a word so I re-read it again when I was fifteen."
"Huh," the half smile from before appeared again on his face, "I never got through it and never had the nerve to try again."
"But you should," she called before she could stop herself, "Really, try it! The Fountainhead is a classic. You really should give her another try."
He laughed heartily: "That may be so, but Ayn Rand is a political nut."
Now it was her turn to laugh: "That also may be true, but no one else is able to write a forty page monologue like she does."
For several seconds there was silence until he shook his head slightly, "I don't know. What would Hemingway say to that?"
Rory bit her lip. The words were on her tongue, but she was sure it would be her demise if she spoke them aloud. She inwardly started to count to ten, but it was already too late and it formally bursted out of her: "Please! Fifteen pages of Hemingway's For Whom theBell Tolls and I was in the land of the deepest dreams. The man is the cure to insomnia."
Damn! Why couldn't she simply keep her mouth shut? Why did she have to have her heart on her sleeve, and today of all days?
It was quiet and Rory really couldn't interpret the expression on the face of her opponent.
He finally broke the silence, once again the half grin on his face, "Okay, following proposal: Tomorrow I'll try it again with Miss Rand and you …" he trailed off, looking amused, his eyebrows raised and expectantly looking at her.
Rory sighed – which he thankfully didn't know – more out of relief than anything else: "And I'll give the painful Ernest Hemingway another chance. I promise. "
"You know, Ernest only has lovely things to say about you." His face changed a little and now only the playful splendor was visible, but also certain seriousness. She couldn't stand up to this view, and lowered her eyes to her new pair of Louboutin's.
Once again it was the man in front of her who broke the silence: " Well, Miss Gilmore, how does Monday, nine o'clock in the morning sound to you? I really would like you to meet your new colleagues. "
She was so surprised that she again almost slipped off the chair.
"Pardon?"
Surprised was an understatement. Her eyes must have looked like two plates.
He smiled at her – no half-grin this time, but a full, honest smile – and repeated: "I would like you to meet your new colleagues. I just offered you a job and I would be very happy if you accepted it."
Rory was looking for the right words: "That's it? That was my whole job interview? A brief discussion about Rand and Hemingway? It took less than two minutes! "
He simply nodded. Then there was more silence.
The surprise was still trying to sink in, and after a few seconds she almost breathlessly said, "Monday sounds great."
"Great," he confirmed, and rose from his chair, the young woman doing the same. He rounded his desk and with his outstretched hand he motioned for her to take the lead to the door.
As they stood in front of each other in the doorway, he held out his hand in greeting, and he addressed her one last time: "Gloria will accompany you to Karen Holmes, our director of human resources. I will call her right away and give her notice that you are coming. She will then discuss further details with you. And before I forget: My name is Jess Mariano. I am the 'M' in CMC Publishing, and your new boss."
TBC