Chapter 3: The Mystery of Maxie
It had seemed so easy. A quick look at the invitation list of his mother and he'd have a name and soon an address to go with the name as well. Yeah, it should have been so easy. It turned out though that Maxie's gleeful doubts of his abilities to find her were justified. A week had gone by and Logan still hadn't found out who the mysterious Maxie/Rory was.
There was not one name on the invitation list that got even close to Rory. Upon casually asking his mother about a brown-haired girl named Rory all he had gotten was a confused frown and his mother's insistence that she didn't know anyone with such a strange name. And that was pretty much the same reaction he got from everyone else he asked about the girl.
Slowly, he was starting to think that his joking that Maxie had sneaked into the party to check out the house wasn't in fact that farfetched as he had thought. Though, there hadn't been a burglary at the Huntzberger mansion – yet. Part of him was even ready to believe that his encounter with the little spitfire had just been a pretty wild imagination, if it wasn't for Colin constantly teasing him with that girl.
Logan wasn't sure why he couldn't simply forget anything about that girl and let his mind focus on something else, another girl, the next LDB event, anything. But no. Somehow, the brown-haired spitfire with her big, sparkling blue eyes, sharp tongue and witty comebacks had thrilled his interest like no girl had before and now the memory haunted him.
Her challenge haunted him.
That was it probably. She had challenged him to find her and Logan, never having been able to resist a challenge, especially as a charming as this one, just couldn't let it rest until he found her now.
The only problem that remained was just how was he going to do that? Hope to run into her at some other social gathering? God no. His goal in life was to avoid them, not search for them! Hunt down the photographer and see if he had managed to get a good shot of Maxie and then go through the invitation list, asking them if they perhaps knew the girl? While that seemed logical, it also looked a bit like desperation on his part, not to mention humiliating and way too dangerous for Logan. He didn't need anyone learning just how obsessed he was with finding that girl. But what options were left then? Hire a PI to find the girl and give him a name to the face that haunted him for this past week? No, that was ridiculous. It was just a random girl – highly interesting, yeah, and boy, sexy as hell, but it wasn't as if Logan was that desperate. So no, he wouldn't go out and hire a PI.
At least not yet.
At that little afterthought, Logan frowned, but before he could dwell more on it, his cell chirped with the tunes of 'Shark'. Groaning, Logan pulled it out of his pocket, staring at it in disgust for a few seconds, before he grudgingly raised it to his ear, pressing the green button.
"Dad," he greeted with a sigh.
"I thought I made myself clear, Logan. No more fooling around. I want to see good grades, regular articles and your actual presence in classes," his father's voice came through the line, tinted with anger.
"Yeah, I remember," Logan said coldly, frowning.
As if he could forget his last charming chat with Daddy dearest.
"Yet I have to hear that you once again failed to attend some of your classes. And the editor at the YDN has yet to see you this year. Say Logan, how are you supposed to write articles when you're never around at the meeting when the assignments are handed out?" Mitchum asked sarcastically and in not a very friendly tone.
His free hand balling to a fist, Logan told himself to stay calm. It wouldn't be of any use to lose control now. "Gee, Dad, guess what, but there are a few other things I still need to do and that can't always be done outside school hours. And as for Doyle, relax. He always has a few things on the side for those who missed the staff meeting."
"Not anymore. I made it clear to him that he isn't to hand you any assignment, unless you show up at the meetings. You miss them again, you can't have an article. Without an article, you won't be able to have the money you need to sustain the lifestyle you're used to and love so much," his father told him in a voice that sounded very smug. "Next meeting is today in thirty minutes. I advise you to show up in time."
Gritting his teeth, Logan started to pace. "Last time I checked the YDN wasn't part of the Huntzberger Media family," he growled.
"No, but contrary to you, the editor there knows what's good for his future," his father said shortly and the line went dead, leaving Logan no chance to say anything more.
Trembling with rage, Logan snapped his cell close, resisting the urge to hurl it against the nearest wall. What the hell was his father's problem? Why couldn't he lay back just for a second? And why had it always to be blackmail? Logan do that or you're going to be cut off. Logan, do this, or next time I'll actually let you spend the night in jail. Logan, be a good little heir or lose everything.
He hated it. He hated not having a free choice… he hated it that he couldn't just turn his back on all the pressure and demands and expectations and just say 'fuck you' to his father's face and then turn around and leave it all behind.
Yet, he always swallowed the words, gulped down the anger and buckled. He went out to go get drunk or fucked his brain out or did something stupid that he knew would make his father furious and that was just fine with Logan.
But no, in the end his father always won, forcing Logan to do whatever Mitchum Huntzberger wanted.
Logan may be reckless and loved to take risks and lived on the edge, desperate to get out of life what he could get… but he simply didn't have the balls to turn his back away from the life he knew, was accustomed to, and yeah, partly also loved. Truth was… Logan loved to be rich and knowing that there were seldom repercussions for him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to live without money and his safety net. But most of all, the reason he always gave in, was that he was afraid. Afraid to turn his back on the only thing he knew how to do, hell, the only thing he'd love to do, even if it's the damn family's legacy.
He loved to write and work for the news business. He just hated that he was forced into it.
Seething, he snatched up his map from his desk and left his room. There was nothing more that he wanted to do right now but to ignore his father's warning and stay the hell away from this stupid staff meeting. Funny thing was that before the call, Logan had had every intention of going, knowing that he should soon show up in the newsroom to satisfy his father. Now though… now, thanks to Daddy dearest, even that wasn't his choice anymore. No, now he showed up at the staff meeting because Daddy ordered it and at least Doyle would know that. And Logan knew that it was wiser to follow the orders this time. It was obvious that his father was more insistent on cleaning up his son's act and Logan knew his father well enough to know that, should he not do what his father had said, he'd have hell to pay for and that was something he rather didn't want to risk. Thanks to the new rules he had little free time as it was, he couldn't cut time off from his friends and the things he loved to do even more than he already was.
Sometimes, he really hated his life.
Ten minutes later, his bad mood intensified with every step towards the newsroom he had taken, Logan entered the Yale Daily News offices. From the looks of it, most of the staff was already gathered around for the meeting which was to begin in five minutes. Some people he recognized from two years ago, though it weren't many. Most of the staff was new and threw him a slightly puzzled look, probably wondering who he was and what he was doing here. Logan ignored them and moved toward what had been his desk once. Judging from the personal items now placed on it, he doubted that that was still the case. Oh well. It would still do for the time being.
Doyle caught sight of him, sputtered, and quickly turned away, causing Logan to snicker. Looked like Doyle hadn't changed one bit in the year he had gone sailing. Still quivering in his shoes at the mere sight of one of the members of the Huntzbergers, a mighty newspaper family, even if it was only the prodigal son. Though, after Doyle's chat with his father the poor guy was probably allowed to shake in his boots. Mitchum Huntzberger had that effect on people, sadly. It was disgusting to watch. Only once Logan wished he could meet someone who stood up to his father, maybe even got into his face, instead of shiver in fear and respect.
Like Maxie had. Well, she hadn't gotten right into his face… but she sure hadn't withered at the mere sight of him.
The hand on the clock ticked on the full hour and Doyle moved to stand in the middle of the room while the other people on the YDN staff gathered around him.
Already after Doyle's first sentence, Logan was bored. Okay, Doyle was talking about the last edition, but still, couldn't he make that a little more interesting? Like not talking in this dull voice? Like not simply looking ridiculous while trying to sound stern as he chided the writer who had reported false facts? This was one of the reasons why Logan preferred to stay away from these meetings and instead rather show up afterwards to go get himself an assignment – well, if he felt like writing an article – or was pressured to it by Daddy dearest. Because these meetings were so unbelievably boring.
Perhaps ten minutes into the meeting – ten very long minutes, the door suddenly flew open and a girl barreled through in a hurry. "Sorry I'm late, Doyle, got caught up with Professor Bell," she apologized breathlessly.
Doyle frowned. "Just don't let it get become a habit," he grumbled.
She flashed him a big smile. "Never would dream of it, Boss," she assured him, irony swinging in her voice though.
Flabbergasted, Logan stared at the girl.
It couldn't be… No way…
But there was no doubt.
It was Maxie.
None other than the witty, sexy, elusive girl Logan was looking for for a week now.
Of all the places to meet her again…
Doyle continued with his speech but Logan heard not a single word. He was way too busy watching Maxie as she leaned against the wall to listen to Doyle. She even took down notes. Today she wore a pair of jeans and a sweater, but she still looked beautiful with her brown hair softly curling around her face and those unbelievingly blue eyes shining on her delicate face with a mixture of eagerness, attention and interest.
He was transfixed.
"…Logan…"
Somewhere his name registered and startled, he looked back to Doyle, questioning. He hoped he hadn't just missed his assignment. He'd really hate to have to go to Doyle afterwards and ask him.
"The Department of Physics awaits the visit of Doctor Lars Weitzman, who won the Nobel a few years ago. He's going to give a few lectures next week. I want an article, including an interview, within two weeks," Doyle said, trying to sound bossy and almost managing.
"But with the outmost delight," answered Logan with light mockery and made a bow.
And he actually did look forward to it, despite the whole daddy-dearest-who-forced-this-upon-him situation. He had wanted to attend some of those lectures anyway, having read a few of Weiszman's books. And an interview with the great astrophysics professor promised to be interesting. He was a little surprised to get such a good assignment right away for starters. He had halfway expected Doyle to give him fluke assignments like the drama of the cafeteria changing the brand of cocoa pops. And yeah, he did wonder if his father was behind this as well.
But then, that was his life, wasn't it? Never sure if he got something because of his efforts, his talents or because the great Mitchum Huntzberger had let his many, many contacts come into favor for his son and heir, Logan thought bitterly.
Suddenly, he grew aware of eyes resting on him and he looked up to search for the source. When his eyes met sparkling blue ones, he smirked, giving her a two-finger salute. Maxie's eyes narrowed, so he wriggled his eyebrows at her. With a huff, she turned her eyes away – but Logan noticed the way her cheeks flushed, which he took as a good sign, even if they had probably flushed in anger rather than joy of seeing him again.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
'Thank God!' thought Logan as Doyle finally finished his speech and let them get to work. He wanted to go talk to Maxie and quickly, he turned to head over to her.
He was mighty surprised to see her heading towards him. And pleased – but only until he noticed that she wasn't heading towards him, but to the desk he was leaning on. Well, all the better.
"So we see each other again," he greeted her with a grin.
"What are the odds," she murmured and sat down, but otherwise pretty much ignored him.
Logan didn't like to be ignored. He raised an eyebrow and turned so that he was facing her on her desk. "Adding stalking to the long list of your rap sheet now, huh Maxie?" he smirked.
A death glare hit him, but she said nothing.
"You're really starting to worry me, you know. Stalking out the mansion, stalking me, stealing… Maxie, Maxie, Maxie, did your mother never tell you not to steal?" he asked, sounding sad.
Her head snapped up. "I never stole anything from you!"
"But of course you have. See, this fine desk here… is mine." he said and knocked on the surface.
"Those hallucinations of yours must have gotten worse," she said, shaking her head. "In case you haven't noticed, my stuff is on this desk. Like it has been since school had begun. Like it had been all last year. Desk," she pointed at the desk, "stuff," she pointed at a fluffy something, "my desk," she finished, pointing at herself.
"Aww, you're cute, do you know that?" Logan grinned and earned himself an indignantly glare. "But nonetheless… your stuff is on my desk."
Angrily, she shot up from her chair and leaned over the desk in question, getting into his face. "This. Is. My. Desk," she hissed, pronouncing every word.
Logan's eyes dropped to her lips, which looked shiny, beckoning at him to capture them with his own. And he almost leaned in for the kiss. But his head was still working enough to send him a vision of her hand landing with a smack on his face. An experience he didn't really need. So he didn't kiss her… what a shame, he thought with a sigh. "No. It. Isn't," he replied as slowly and clearly as she had. "You see, this had been my desk since my first year here at Yale."
"I've never seen you here before," she pointed out.
Logan smiled indulgently. "And what a shame that is," he nodded seriously. "But you see, I've taken a year off last year. That doesn't mean though that I gave up my desk here. My desk and I have a history, you know."
She matched his indulgent smile with one of her own. "Oh, how touching…" Her eyes chilled. "Get yourself a new desk."
"I don't think so. I rather suggest that you take Fluffy here and get yourself another desk," Logan countered, giving the fluffy thing on the desk a light finger flick.
Maxie snatched the thing up. "Leave Henry alone!"
For a moment, Logan was confused. Then he broke out into a big grin. "You named that thing?" he asked unbelievingly.
"Why don't you go annoy someone else? I've got work to do. You know, some of the people here are actually here to work, not to be a pest just for the fun of it," she snapped.
"Their loss," said Logan sympathetically.
Rolling her eyes, Maxie sat down again. "Boy, and here I thought your ego is just a summer flirt."
"Quoting Twister won't let you off the hook, Maxie," Logan told her softly.
"Why am I not surprised?" she murmured, probably more to herself than to Logan.
Not that that stopped him from answering. "That I recognized the quote or that I won't let you off the hook?" he asked.
She gave him a look. "Why won't you just get lost?"
Logan knocked on the desk again. "What have we talked about again? Oh right… My desk."
"Yeah, but that conversation is over. It's mine now. End of story," Maxie retorted.
"You don't really think that I'll let you have the best desk just like that, do you, Maxie?" Logan asked smirking.
Her eyes met him. "You don't think I'll let you have the best desk, just like that, do you, Alec?" she mockingly mimicked him.
Logan laughed. God, that girl was amusing. "It seems like we are in a bit of a stand-off, doesn't it? Now, what to do to find a solution for that?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Easy. You. Get yourself another desk. Me. Staying right where I am."
"Maxie…" Logan sighed.
"And for the last time, my name's not Maxie!" she exclaimed, exasperated.
"Well, you've yet to tell me your full name… Rory," Logan replied with a smile.
For a moment, her eyes narrowed, but then they cleared and smiling, she sat back down and leaned back in her chair. "Oh right… how well did your search for me go? Any luck finding me, like you promised, so heartfelt?"
"I'm here, am I not?" he asked, evading giving a direct answer.
"And it's pure coincidence, isn't it?" she said knowingly. "Or what is my last name?"
"Memory loss, Maxie? I'd be careful with that," Logan replied.
She grinned.
Shit. She was clearly winning this part. Needless to say that Logan didn't like to lose. "Well… I'll tell you what. I may let myself be convinced to let you have this fine desk… for the right prize."
Both her eyebrows rose. "Why on earth should I pay for something that's already mine? Besides, I may not know your financial situation in detail, but it sure looked to me as if you're hardly in need of any more money."
True. Logan smiled. "Never said anything about money, did I?"
Her eyebrows arched higher. "And what exactly did you have in mind?" she wanted to know.
His smile taking on a suggestive tone, he leaned forward lazily, his eyes staring into hers. "Hmm… I think a couple of dates and a back massage might perhaps do the deed."
Her eyes widened in surprise. Then she laughed. A clear, true, singing laugh. "You're kidding, aren't you?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Logan said, but smiled.
"What on earth makes you think that I would go out with you? Over a desk on top of that?" she asked, still chuckling.
"My good looks? My unbeatable charm? My witty remarks?" Logan pointed out.
"You do have a high opinion of yourself, huh? Sorry buddy," she said, shaking her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "One of my dearest rules… I don't go out with guys who insist on calling me by a nickname… like Maxie for example… other than my true nickname." She gave him a pointed glare.
"If that's all… Just tell me your name and nickname and problem's solved," Logan answered, unfazed.
"Now, where would be the fun in that? Don't you have any pride? The urge to finish your quest? Then, you're seriously at the wrong place here," Maxie told him. "Besides, there's another rule… I don't waste my time with rich, spoiled and cocky guys."
Before Logan could reply, he heard someone calling his name. Irritably, he looked towards the door to see Colin waving at him, signaling him to come out, pointing at his watch. Quickly, Logan checked his own watch. Right. Their trip to New York. They had tickets for the Stones. He had almost forgotten about that. He turned back to Maxie to finish their conversation, only to find her gone. With a frown, he looked around, but she seemed to have left. With a shrug, Logan pushed away from her desk.
Their conversation wasn't over, but he guessed they could finish that another time. After all, he now knew where to find her. He could even ask one of the other reporters about her name, but not right now. She was right. He hated an unfinished quest and simply asking Doyle or someone else would be too easy. That would be cheating. He'd rather find out on his own. Or even better, bring her to tell him herself.
Of course he hadn't expected her to agree to go out with him. Actually, he would have been seriously disappointed in her if she had agreed so easily. This way, it was much more fun. And there was no doubt that sooner or later, she'd come out with him on a date. So far every girl had given in at the end. Though, to be honest, they never had been so resistant like Maxie was.
Still, Logan was confident. He just needed to find out what would do the trick for her, and then she was his.
Sadly though, he hadn't had time to hunt for Maxie in the next few days. Partly, because he really needed to work for his classes in order to get everything cleared for the next LDB event the following week. Also, he needed to work on the article for which he got ready by mainly reading through Weiszman's books again to get a good background for the interview, also next week. And the two times he had been in the newspaper room, she unfortunately hadn't been there, much to his disappointment.
Therefore he wasn't any nearer in his quest to find out her full name. He had found a little time to go through the archive of the Yale Daily News, see if he could find an article from a Rory, but no luck. Almost everyone used initials, especially on the first name. There had been a few R's, but he had known most of those reporters. And the two he hadn't recognized had turned out to be male, so definitely not his Maxie. Slowly, Logan started to suspect that Rory was actually that official nickname of hers she had mentioned. That would explain why he couldn't find Rory either on the invitation list or now in the paper.
But if that was the case, how should he ever succeed in getting her name? Rory could be short for a lot of names. Or perhaps it was her middle name, or short for a middle name.
In short, the task sure turned to almost getting impossible. But he hadn't given up yet. He'd give it another few days and if he hadn't learned anything by then, he'd go ask Doyle, as much as Logan hated that thought.
While sorting through the archive he had spotted a few articles of a certain LL Gilmore though, reminding him that they still had to check out the Gilmore girl for her qualifications to join the LDB. He had used the opportunity to peruse over some of her articles. After all, the way she wrote would already say quite a lot about her, at least that was how it was supposed to be. Besides, he was still supposed to socialize with her, or at least talk once with her, that much had gotten clear on his mother's party and some 'casual' remarks from his parents since then. He was a little surprised to find himself enjoying her articles. They were thoroughly researched, but never came out as boring, however dull the topic of her article may be. Then, there had been a few critiques from her, that were simply hilarious. He had liked the biting sarcasm in them, making him laugh out loud. From what he gathered out of her articles, the ominous Gilmore girl seemed to be quite intelligent and witty. So perhaps it wouldn't be that bad to socialize a little with her. Of course though, a person wasn't always like she wrote. Could also very well be that she only got out of her shell while writing and in real life was a shy kid, barely able to get out two words.
Oh well, time would tell.
For now, he needed to find out more about his Maxie.
The chances of that happening today though were pretty much slim, Logan thought darkly as he pulled into the parking lot of the Country Club. Today, sucking up to Daddy Dearest and some of his associates was on the program. That's right. Part of his father's plan to 'clean up Logan's act' was to start grooming the business contacts, of course in a casual manner for starters, as his dad had informed him last weekend. This mostly meant in this circle, a round of golf in the country club with a glass of scotch and a fine cigar afterwards.
In other words… boring.
With a sigh, Logan got out his golf bag and then headed inside. A beautiful Saturday afternoon… and he was stuck playing golf with his father and other calcified old guys. Great, absolutely great. He really hadn't anything better to do.
"There you are," his father greeted him with a frown. "Late as usual of course."
"Five minutes, Dad," Logan tiredly replied.
"One day you'll learn just how important five minutes can be," his father lectured him. "And David just called, he can't make it."
"So no golf today?" Logan hopefully asked.
"Don't be ridiculous, of course we golf. There are always enough men around the club worth playing with to re-establish your contacts," his father said.
"Of course," sighed Logan and sat down to change into his golf shoes.
At that moment, Richard Gilmore came into the locker room. "Oh, Mitchum, Logan, good to see you two," he greeted them with a smile, walking over to his locker.
"You too, Richard," Mitchum greeted back, while Logan simply nodded. "You here for a quick round of golf as well?"
"That had been the plan, but I'm afraid Peter canceled on me," Richard replied.
"Why don't you join us then?" Mitchum invited him as Logan had already seen it coming since Richard had joined them. "David canceled on us as well."
Well, at least Logan knew and liked Richard. It could be worse.
"Tempting, but I'm supposed to meet my granddaughter in a bit," Richard regretfully answered.
"No problem, she can join us. It's about time I meet that future star on the newspaper sky anyway, see what's all the talk about her," his father then said, causing Logan to jerk up his head with a frown.
Or perhaps it was definitely worse.
"Well…" Richard said hesitantly. "She's not exactly much into golf."
"She knows how to play?" Mitchum wanted to know.
"Technically yes, but she really…"
"Well, then it's settled. We'll see you out on the grass then." Mitchum ignored Richard's hesitance and simply decided, grabbed his things and walked out.
Something his father liked doing, as Logan knew only too well. He glanced at Richard's doubtful face and with a weak smile at him, he hurried after his father. "Perhaps we should look for someone else, Dad, Richard didn't seem too enthusiastic to join us with his granddaughter."
"Nonsense. Richard's firm provides some of our insurance coverage, Logan, and let me tell you, it's always a good idea to be on a friendly relationship with the man who insures you, in your best interest. Besides, I was meaning to meet that granddaughter of his anyway. From what I heard she must be slightly less boring than most girls usually are. And if she's as good as they say… all the better. The sooner you can snatch up a new talent the better," his father told him, striding towards the first hole.
Resigned, Logan followed his father. Mitchum Huntzberger had set his mind and that was all that was to be said about this.
Perhaps ten minutes later, Richard joined them, stashing his bag beside Mitchum's in one of the carts they had organized in the meantime. Looked like the 'young ones' were supposed to ride together, Logan thought sarcastically. What a surprise. Oh well, at least this way, he would have that stupid meeting with her out of the way. Yeah, after having read some of her stuff he had looked a bit forward to meeting her, but that still didn't mean that he wanted his meeting her being forced on him like that.
Hmm… actually… could it be that the old ones had actually arranged for this little 'chance' meeting of theirs? That would be just like them, he thought, peeved.
The Gilmore girl had yet to show up, though. If he was lucky, she had bailed out of here the second she had heard about this ridiculous golf round.
"Where's your girl now?" his father asked.
"Oh, she just had to go get her stuff. She should come any moment," Richard answered. He looked behind the Huntzbergers and his face lit up. "Ah, here she comes already."
Logan and his father turned around and Logan froze.
No. Fucking. Way.
"Rory, there you are!" Richard cheerfully greeted his granddaughter. "Come here," he said and stepped to her, who herself stared unbelieving at Logan. Looked like she could barely believe this coincidence either. Putting an arm around her shoulder, Richard turned to the Huntzbergers again. "Mitchum, may I introduce you to my granddaughter, Lorelai Leigh Gilmore? But we all call her Rory though. Rory, this is Mitchum Huntzberger and his son Logan," he introduced.
Lorelai? No wonder he never found a Rory listed anywhere, Logan thought absentmindedly. But hell, how can Rory be short for Lorelai?
Well… that was one way to find out who Maxie really was, Logan then thought numbly, noticing that she seemed to pale a little when the name Huntzberger fell. Was it possible that she hadn't known that they were Huntzbergers? Hmm… yeah, could be. After all, they had never introduced each other properly and when his mother had made the rounds, the Gilmore girl had been elusive – because she had been searching her way back to the party.
He shook his head. Even with Maxie right in front of him, with Richard Gilmore's arm around her, he could hardly believe that his Maxie was actually the Gilmore girl. Of all the people she could have been… it just didn't make sense. Then again, it did made sense. Perfect sense. Her being on their party, for example. Hadn't she said that she had gone to the library with her grandfather, where she had lost them then? Hadn't Richard said that they had lost his granddaughter somewhere on the way? Then that he had finally seen her at the paper again, where the Gilmore girl was apparently a part of the team. Hell, he really should have connected the dots sooner… why had he never thought it possible that Maxie could actually be the Gilmore girl?
Easy. His Maxie had been so different from any other society girl he had ever met before that he had never really entertained the possibility that she could be part of the mighty circle, whereas he had assumed that the Gilmore girl was like every other girl with the 'right' family name, even if she seemed to be a bit more brainy than they usually came. Simply: two seemingly completely different persons.
Looked like he had been wrong there… how the hell was it possible that he had overlooked the fact that Maxie was a socialite, just like him? That had never happened to him before! And what nerve had she to criticize and mock him when she herself was no better than he, nothing more than a socialite?
"Pleasure to finally meet you, Rory, may I call you Rory? Your grandfather speaks only the highest praises of you," Mitchum smiled, shaking Maxie's hand.
"Yeah, he is like that," Maxie said dryly. "It's an honor to meet you, Sir," she greeted politely.
Then her eyes slid to Logan and they narrowed. "Logan," she said simply.
"Maxie," he greeted sweetly. At the confused looks of the two older men, he shrugged. "Just a little inside joke," he explained.
"Oh, so you have met after all?" asked Richard surprised.
Logan smiled at Maxie. "Yeah, one could say that," he replied.
"Hmm… Haven't I seen you before as well?" asked his father with a frown.
"Uh…" Maxie uttered, blushing a little.
Smiling at the memory of just when Maxie had met his father, Logan quickly jumped in. "Probably on the last party, Dad, she's been there, you know," he said, hoping that now that his father had a plausible explanation, he wouldn't search his memory any further, like he would if he didn't find a satisfying answer. And sooner or later he would recognize Maxie as the girl that had confronted him in front of his home office.
After all, his father was an important man in the business and Logan remembered well what her grandparents had said about their granddaughter's ambitions. He didn't want her to get in trouble for coming to his aid.
"Right, at the party," Mitchum nodded and smiled. "Well, why don't we get started?" he asked and walked over to the cart to pick out a club.
With a tense smile at Logan, Maxie pulled Richard a few feet away. "Huntzberger?" she hissed in a low voice, but Logan had no qualms to listen in. "We're going to play golf with Mitchum Huntzberger?"
"Oh, didn't I mention that?" Richard said innocently.
Logan suppressed a snicker.
"No, you didn't! Grandpa, I told you I don't want you to let your contacts with Mr. Huntzberger play in my favor," she whispered angrily. "I don't want any favors. Either I'm good enough as a reporter or I'm not. You know that. Yet, here you arranged for me to meet him. And playing golf! What were you thinking? I suck at golf! Now all he'll ever remember about me is that I suck at golf!"
Richard sighed. "Rory, I swear to you that I haven't arranged this. But I do think it's a fortunate coincidence. Look at it as fate."
Maxie shook her head.
"And Rory, you know I love you and your honesty and ambition to achieve everything in life on your own, but frankly said, it's time that you grow up and stop being naive," Richard continued gently. "Believe me, Mitchum is smart enough to look past your golf skills. The only important thing is that he gets to know you, see you as the bright young person you are, as the promising young journalist. And he's a business man through and through. It doesn't matter that you're my granddaughter. If he likes your work as a reporter, then because it's good, not because you're my granddaughter. If he doesn't, then he will have no qualms to tell you so."
Dead right, thought Logan, nodding to himself.
"But you need to learn that the world out there is a hard world, Rory. Too hard to ignore contacts that could help you further your career. Believe me, you still will have to do enough on your own to make it, to make yourself a name, get respected in the business world. Which is even more reason to use what you have at hand," Richard told her.
"Mom made it on her own, without any help. Countless people make it on their own," protested Maxie.
"Yes, they did. But you'll find out with time that even those, yeah, even your mother, will have profited from their contacts and relations at one time or another," Richard said simply. "Now come, Mitchum has already played his ball."
Quickly, Logan looked over to his father and indeed, his father was just lowering his arms.
"Nice shot, Mitchum. I'll have to see how I can make it better," Richard said, walking over to the cart to get a club.
Logan looked back to Maxie who still stood where her grandfather had left her, biting her lips. So she didn't want to live on her family's name. Interesting. Unrealistic, but interesting. And he admired it. But he agreed with Richard. It was a bit naïve. And stupid. He knew well enough that others would kill for the powerful contact she had with Richard Gilmore as her grandfather. For her own sake, she should listen to her grandfather's wise words.
Slowly, he walked over to her. "So… Gilmore, huh?"
She gave him a look.
"Hmm… I wonder why a rich girl like you needs to stake out places and burglarize them." He looked critically at her. "You don't seem like a thrill seeker to me. So… what led you to the path of vice, Maxie? Boredom?" He grinned. "Or do you have a Robin Hood complex going on. Stealing from the rich to give it to the poor?"
"You think you're very funny, don't you?" Maxie asked sarcastically.
Logan nodded. "Yeah, actually, I do. Of course, the stalking me part I totally get. Just couldn't help yourself anymore, couldn't you?"
"I didn't stalk you! Actually, right now, my goal in life is to avoid you!" she protested, exasperated.
"Oh come on, why deny it any longer? I mean, look at the facts: First you show up at my house," Logan replied generously.
"I had no idea whose mansion it was! My grandparents just hustled me into their car, babbling about a party invitation they have forgotten and next thing I know I'm in front of that mausoleum," Rory set him straight.
Logan stored that little information for later and continued, undisturbed by her interruption. "Then you show up at the paper…"
"Because I'm on the paper!" she hissed. "I actually am there on a regular basis, you know. I still have to see you there again!"
"And now you even followed me here to the country club," Logan finished, shaking his head. "Not only that, you even brought Richard to arrange this golf party, just so you could meet me again. I gotta say, I'm fairly touched at your obsession with me. A little worried, but touched. Just don't let it get too Kathy Bates, will you?"
"I didn't follow you here! I came here to meet with my grandpa like I do every first Saturday of the month to have a drink and a little talk, just the two of us," Maxie told him through a clenched jaw. "And I certainly haven't arranged for this here! I hate golf!"
"Just keep telling yourself that," Logan replied with an indulgent smile.
God, he loved to rile her up!
"Your turn," she told him seething.
Logan looked up and indeed, Richard had made his shot already. With a smile, he bowed to her. "Why? Do you think I do not have any manners, Ms. Gilmore?" He shook his head. "Ladies first, of course."
She looked like she had bitten into a lemon, but she did grab herself a club (blindly taking it out of her bag as he noticed) and a ball and went over to the tee to make her tee-off. Not hesitating long or even looking into the direction she was supposed to shoot, she reached back and let the golf club come down on the ball with momentum. Oh, she hit it, only to send it straight into the trees.
He winced. Boy, she hadn't been kidding when she had said that she sucked at golf. She had made pretty much everything wrong that she could. Smirking, he chose an iron and went over to the tee himself. "All for the woods, huh Maxie?" he teased while he narrowed his eyes on the hole pole before he made his tee-off.
His ball landed on the green. Another shot and he would have his ball in the hole.
"Great shot, Logan," Richard nodded. "I see you're still as good as before."
"Thanks, Richard," Logan thanked him and pushed his club back into his bag. "I try to stay in practice."
Not that he had much choice with his father scheduling little golf parties all the time.
They got into the carts to drive over to the hole. Like anticipated, Richard and Mitchum in the first, leaving Logan and Maxie to drive together in the second. But other than anticipated, Logan was now more than happy with that pairing.
He glanced at her, sitting with crossed arms beside him, making a sour face and basically giving the perfect picture of a pout. He smiled.
"Now that I know your name and official nickname, Rory, why don't we talk about that date again?"
She mumbled something that he couldn't get. Which was probably better so.
"I think we agreed on two dates, didn't we?"
"We agreed on nothing," she grumpily clarified.
He cast a look at her. "Have you vacated my desk or have you not?" he asked.
"Of course I haven't. It's my desk," she snapped.
Logan ignored her objection. "Well, and the deal was you can keep the desk for two dates and a back massage. As you haven't cleared the desk yet I assume you agree on the conditions. So… when would it be convenient for you? How about tonight? Or perhaps rather next Friday?"
"How does 'never' sound?" she asked sarcastically.
"Sorry, I fear 'Never' is already reserved," Logan answered without a blink.
"God… are you always so perky or am I just the lucky one?" Maxie asked, rolling her eyes.
"You're definitely lucky, after all you've got me asking you out," Logan replied with a self-indulgent grin.
"With every word out of your mouth, your chances of getting me to ever go out with you, gets dimmer," she informed him. "Especially with such lame, over-used lines."
"Aha, but you finally admit that there is a chance," Logan pointed out triumphantly. "Then I'll immediately start on working on my lines. Wouldn't want to bore the lady after all."
Maxie said nothing.
"Speechless, the lady is," Logan grinned.
"Rather having decided that this case of delusion of yours is obviously a lost cause," Maxie said with a glare. "And please, no Yoda impersonations. That's simply ridiculous coming from you."
"Because I'm such a better looking guy than the little green one?" Logan asked, wriggling his eyebrows.
"No, because your brain is the size of a red bean whereas Yoda is all-knowing. Or at least pretty much close to it," she explained.
"You think my brain is the size of a red bean? I'm touched. And here I thought you were going for a pea," Logan responded.
"Nah. If Doyle is willing to give you the interview with Weiszman instead of me or Paris I think it must be slightly bigger than a pea. He wouldn't risk messing that one up just because the newspaper mogul of the States wants a good shot for his son," she said with a shrug.
Surprised, he looked at her with a frown. "You think so?" he asked seriously.
She frowned a little at his reaction, but nodded. "That's the only reason I can imagine why Doyle went and gave that interview to you." Her eyes narrowed. "He's not completely stupid after all, so I guess he knows more about your questionable ability to write a solid article than I. But then, I've yet to read an article from you. Or rather said, find one first."
"It's called Internet, honey," Logan helped her generously, but inside, his heart pounded.
She thought he had gotten the article on Weiszman on his own, not because of his father? Could she be right? Had Doyle really so much backbone to deny the great Huntzberger the wish that his only son got the best article available? Had he then really so much confidence in Logan's skills to give him the article?
"You call me honey again and you'll be joining the choir as a soprano," she warned.
"What is it with you and your aversion to nicknames?" Logan asked, shaking his head.
"What is it with guys insisting on using nicknames or ridiculous, disgusting endearments?" she asked back.
"Says the girl who goes by Rory," he teased.
"Which is a nickname my mother gave me right after my birth and makes totally sense as her name's Lorelai as well which really would get confusing," she pointed out. "But as I already go by a nickname there's really no need for you to come up with another one."
"Ah, but we don't come up with nicknames, they crystallize themselves, Maxie," Logan told her patiently.
"Then un-crystallize it," she told him, her eyes two blue slits.
For a moment, Logan looked at her pondering, then he shook his head and grinned. "Nope, not going to happen. Maxie's way too fitting for you."
"I'm not a burglar! Nor am I a mutant out of a tube!" she protested.
"Perhaps not. But you're awfully cute, sexy like hell so one could easily think that gene-manipulation had something to do with that, witty and smart and boy, you sure have a temper," Logan elaborated. "In short… you're Max." He pulled to a stop beside the little forest her ball had disappeared into. "Want me to help you find your ball?"
She jerked up from her death glare at him and noticed where they were. With a huff, she got out of the cart. "No thanks," she hissed and stomped into the woods.
Logan laughed after her.
They were on the way to the eighteenth hole and Logan was in lead with Richard close behind him, his father third and Maxie… yeah well, let's just say she was definitely on the last place. By the time they had reached the eleventh hole she had probably managed a place on the record for the worst player ever. No one, not even Logan's father had anything against the casual suggestion of Logan to perhaps let her off the hook while she had been yet again in search of her ball somewhere in the outskirts. It probably had been her last ball anyway. Of course, besides giving up, his father also hated losing his precious time and they lost a lot of time, waiting for her while searching for her balls.
She had only mildly protested, but she had protested and Logan knew that that had given her a few plus points in his father's eyes. Though from what he saw, she didn't really need them. His father seemed to accept her enough. Logan would even say he liked her, but then, Mitchum Huntzberger didn't like people. He accepted, tolerated, respected or hated them, but he didn't like. But then, Maxie might be terrible at golf but otherwise, it soon got obvious that she was intelligent, well informed about what was going on in the world and well-read and had no problem at all keeping up with the old men's conversation about politics and literature, something that no girl of that background usually did, at least no one Logan knew and Logan was sure that he knew pretty much every girl of Hartford's high society.
Then again, he sure had never met Maxie before and as Richard's and Emily's granddaughter she definitely was part of Hartford's high society. How come that he had never met her before? Hell, he never even had heard of her before!
He glanced at her. Their cart rides had mostly been filled with the banter they seemed to have going on and Logan had enjoyed himself more than he had in a long time. At least when he had been with a girl. Not to mention while being in the presence of his father and one of his associates as well. Actually, he was almost sad that this was one of their last rides together because one more shot and the game would be over.
"What?" she asked defensively, noticing his stare.
"Nothing… I'm just wondering where Richard and Emily have hid you all these years," Logan answered truthfully. "Were you in a boarding school abroad?"
She laughed. "Me and boarding school?"
Logan looked at her confused. What was so funny at that?
When she noticed his confusion, she shook her head. "Not that it's any of your business, but I never was away from home until I moved to Yale. Well, that summer in Washington before senior year, but that doesn't count." She smiled affectionately to herself. "I knew it would be hard, leaving home, even knowing that Stars Hollow isn't that far away, but still… I was so homesick the first night at Yale that Mom had to come and stay with me for the night." She grinned. "Not that she hadn't loved the opportunity for a pajama party."
If she thought that would clear up his confusion, she was wrong. In fact, it only added to his confusion. She had been homesick? Wanted her mom to be with her on the first night in Yale? Logan remembered well the first night he had been at Yale. Or rather said, he didn't remember all that much. But boy, he did know that that party had been something, one of the bests ever.
And… "Stars Hollow? Where on earth is Stars Hollow?" he asked, bewildered.
She shrugged. "Somewhere between New Haven and Hartford, perhaps thirty miles from Hartford, a small town. Mom and I live there."
Richard and Emily's daughter and granddaughter living in a small town?
"So, no boarding school?" he asked again, still having problems with that concept. Every kid he knew had been at least at one boarding school.
She rolled her eyes. "Nope, no boarding school, just Stars Hollow High and then Chilton. And now Yale."
"You went to Chilton?" Logan asked, interested. Well, that sounded more plausible. Seeing that she couldn't quite understand his confusion with her not attending any boarding schools, he decided to drop the topic. Instead, he smirked. "How did you ever pass PE? As far as I know they demand at least one PE class finals, don't they? So… you a secret water ballet star or something like that?"
"And getting wet all the time? I don't think so. No, I passed by taking golf," she answered with a grin.
He stared at her. "You're kidding, aren't you?"
"Nope," she said, shaking. "I'm dead serious. I have my report cards to prove it, if you absolutely must see them for proof."
"How could they let you pass with golf? You suck at golf!" Logan wanted to know, flabbergasted.
"Yep, that I do. But they realized in the end that me and sport… a big uh-uh and any other sport would have been hazardous either for myself or the people in a half mile radius. Took them two years to get that, but I got my pass and that's it," she explained.
He believed every word she had said. After all, for the past couple of hours he had watched her play. Unfortunately, at that point, they reached the last hole. He pulled in behind the other cart and they got out.
"Ah Logan, looks like I won't have any chance to get you anymore," Richard said good-naturedly, looking at the three balls on the green.
"Sorry Richard, perhaps next time," Logan replied. Though if his father insisted on these golf parties in the future as well, he would probably lead by even more shots. He always had been pretty good in golf, even though he was a bit out of practice since he went to Yale, not as good as he was in tennis, but good enough to mostly come out as the winner. Like this time. Well, perhaps he could use the eight hundred bucks that was in the pool by now to properly take out Maxie, once she saw reason and gave in.
"Well, let's finish this," Mitchum said and went to his ball.
Two shots later, his ball was in the hole. Same with Richard. Logan made one shot.
"Good game, Logan," Richard congratulated him, shaking his hand.
Logan involuntarily looked over to Maxie who had watched the end of the game, obviously a bit bored. "Yeah, it had been fun," he agreed.
"How about a drink, Richard?" Mitchum asked.
"Sorry, another time. We have dinner guests tonight and you know Emily," Richard said regretfully.
"All right, let's head out then," Mitchum nodded and went back to the cart, Richard behind him, while Logan went back to Maxie in the second cart.
"Why am I not surprised that you've won?" Maxie asked as he got into the driver's seat.
"Because you saw just what a formidable sportsman I am?" Logan offered, smiling at her.
"Uh… no, I don't think so. You probably were already golfing when you were barely able to walk. Tell me, what is it with rich men and golf?" she asked, shaking her head.
"I was five when I started to play and it's not just a sport for the rich. Rannulph Junuh and Bagger Vance were your average poor boys," Logan informed her.
"They were movie figures," Maxie contradicted him.
"Not Junuh, he was real. Vance, I'm not sure," he admitted.
"Oh great, so one out of how many millions? Wow, yeah, golf is really something for the poor people," Maxie said with heavy sarcasm.
Logan smiled and looked at her. "There's something I'd like to know… what exactly do you have against the rich and privileged? I mean, you're one yourself, so that's a bit of a pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"
She frowned and shook her head. "I have no idea where you get that I'm one of the rich and spoiled, but I'm not."
"You're a Gilmore," Logan stated with a frown.
"And?"
"Maxie, come on. Your grandparents…"
"Exactly," Maxie interrupted him. "My grandparents, not my mom, not me. We work for our money, we don't live on it and it's not much money. Yeah, my grandparents are paying my school fees because I did not qualify for financial aid. But it's a loan and once college is over and I'm working, I'm going to pay them back, with interests of course."
She did what?
She shook her head. "No. I'm not one of your precious high society girls," she declared fiercely, staring him into his eyes. "And thank God for that. Out of the bunch of you kids at Chilton and Yale I learned to know perhaps three, four people who weren't so bad."
Ouch. Not that that fazed Logan in any way. He couldn't really blame her for such a statement. He couldn't stand most of his fellow society kids either. But there were exceptions. And it was high time she learned that. "Then, my dear Maxie, you definitely haven't met the right people," he told her.
"Yeah, sure," she snorted.
His grin intensified. "Yep, definitely," he insisted with a nod.
"Peg me as skeptical," she replied dryly.
"Well, let me introduce you to a few friends of mine and I bet you'll change your opinion," he suggested, thinking about the LDB.
Now that he had officially met Lorelai Leigh Gilmore he could definitely say that she'd be an asset to the LDB. He did see a problem with her attitude towards the rich though. Yeah, there were a few non-society and no-money people in the group, but not many. Most of them were the sons and daughters of high society. But the way he saw it, no one had ever bothered to show her the positive side of being rich.
"I don't think so, no," Maxie though declined.
Logan gave her his lost puppy eyes. "And why not?"
"Because I don't like you, so why should I like your friends?" she explained slowly as if she was talking to a five year old.
"Aw no, that's not true. You do like me a little," he said confidently.
She sighed. "I can say nothing to convince you otherwise, can't I? You're that deluded, aren't you?"
"Wise, Maxie, not deluded, very wise," Logan corrected her.
"God, I need coffee," she murmured.
"Well, if you ask nicely, I may be convinced to pull in at Starbucks on the way back," Logan offered.
"What?"
"Or are you attending your grandparent's dinner party as well?" he wanted to know.
"God no!"
He nodded and pulled into the cart area of the country club reluctantly. "Good. Then we might turn in on the way back to Yale."
"What the hell… No, you know what, just forget it," Maxie said exasperated. "But let's make a few things clear here: First, I have my own car here, I don't need a ride. Second, even if I were without a ride I would rather take the bus than ride with you. Third, I'm heading home, not back to Yale and fourth, you and me? Please, a snowball in hell has more chances of surviving than I'll ever agree to go out with you." Thus said she slid out of the cart and stomped over to her grandfather, who was just saying his farewell to Logan's father.
Grinning, Logan slowly got out of their cart as well and went to get his stuff from the back, taking hers out also.
It looked like there were cold times ahead in hell. Because one way or another, he would get his date with Maxie. She seemed stubborn enough… but Rory Gilmore had never met Logan's persistence when he was determined to get something… or someone.
And the more he learned of Maxie, the more he wanted to know.
TBC!
(Author's Note: FINALLY! I'm sorry this took so long, but you know, life, muses, bunnies, time… But be assured, I may take sometimes a bit long, but I have yet to abandon a story of mine and leave it unfinished. Besides, I'm getting my new notebook today and do hope that with that, I'll find more time from now on to work on my stories. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. I sure had fun writing it. Next chapter's title: Nothing like a little blackmail. Now guess what that could be… yep. That. And yeah, of course Finn and Colin will soon join the 'cast' again, but for this chapter, I sadly couldn't need them. Well, thanks for all the wonderful reviews and the many reminders to finally UPDATE this story. And please… don't stop reviewing! I live for reviews!"
