So here is it. Sorry for the long wait. I struggled to get Paris' voice. I don't know if I fully succeeded. Thanks for all the reviews - I love to hear how people are finding it. So review! Positive, negative, neutral. I just want to know what you think. Oh, as per usual, I own nothing.
Chapter 4 – Paris Weighs In
Her opening palm drew my attention to what is sitting I her hand. Suddenly the shell-shocked looks on both of their faces make sense.
"Damn."
I owe Doyle $50. I was sure he would wait until after graduation.
They are very conspicuous, those little velvet boxes. I'm pretty sure he kept it in his jacket pocket. I'm also sure he didn't notice how often his hand drifted into that pocket, only to leave – empty – after a few seconds. I've spied this particular little velvet box a couple of times in the last month.
The first time was when I came home early from a chem lab that was cancelled after some dumbass combined the wrong reagents. Logan was sitting quietly on the couch slowly turning the box in his fingers. Beyond it being one of the few times I've ever seen that adrenaline junky sit still, what surprised me the most was the look on his face. Here was a man who took life as it came. Even huge life altering decisions didn't seem to cause many pensive moments for him. But at that moment, he truly did look unsure of himself. He seemed to lack that cocky confidence that usually seeped from his pores, and without it he seemed less Logan-like, less complete. When he looked up and saw me, he quickly pushed the little box deep into his pocket and looked away. And I… contrary to my very nature… decided to leave him alone and not ask.
The second time, I called him on it. "Making the big play, eh Huntzberger?" He replied with his typical snarky "Shut it, Paris," and a warning to keep the little box a secret from our intrepid reporter. But the conversation was combined with a more confident look. More Logan-like. Whatever internal conflict he had been facing, it seemed he had gotten over it.
I'm pulled out of the memory by the sight of Rory slumping into the sofa.
"So you said no?" I ask her quietly.
"No. I couldn't… I didn't… I don't know what to do," she murmured quietly.
I expected for Rory to be a stunned by this development. Her romantic awareness leaves a little to be desired. But this seems a bit too extreme for a simple marriage proposal. Those two are attached at the hip. Surely she saw this coming. I thought that she even wanted it for them.
"He wants us to move to California. He has a job out there," Rory mutters as she stands again, and begins pacing between the sofa and our little kitchenette.
"California?" I ask, but the question goes unanswered as she continues to pace. I didn't see that one coming, although it is – in hindsight – a necessary move. Those WASPs don't take well to family members rebelling. Logan's dad and grandfather are probably making his life a living hell.
"I suppose I could apply for writing positions out there. I would have to have better luck than I am having here. Stupid Mitchum and his arrogant assumptions. I should have known nothing good could come from that comment," Rory continues, as she seems to have temporarily forgotten my presence.
My curiosity gets the better of me. I wonder what machinations the Huntzbergers have put into action against Logan, and how they have affected Rory enough for her to be this upset and off balance.
"Mitchum? What has he done?" I ask, calling her attention back to my presence. Her eyes widen as she remembers where she is and whom she is talking to about this latest development.
"When we met with Mitchum for Logan's birthday, he said that Huntzberger Publishing would look after me, and offered me a position anywhere I wanted. I didn't know what to say to him, other than to call him on his early comments about me 'not having it'. I didn't tell Logan about the job offer, and after a while I sort of forgot about it. Mitchum didn't mention it again, and I was so focused on getting the Reston Fellowship it slipped my mind," Rory explains.
The deer-caught-in-headlights look is still there, but now it is mixed with a look of disappointment. I think I can see where this is going. It is, after all, highly unusual for the Editor of the Daily News to have such a hard time finding a position post-graduation.
"And…," I prompt her.
"Logan told me that his father had informed most of the major newspapers on the eastern seaboard that I was taken by Huntzberger Publishing. No one would offer me a position for fear of going against the great Mitchum Huntzberger. Then to add insult to injury, because Logan has left the company, he doesn't want me anyway."
"Oh Rory, be realistic!" I scold. Part of me can't believe she was so blind to the long term consequences of her and Logan's relationship, or so gullible as to underestimate that man again.
"What do you mean?" she asks with a baffled look on her face.
"You have been with Logan for over two years and lived with him for a good part of it. You have worked at a Huntzberger newspaper. Mitchum has mentioned you publicly. You spent Christmas together in London, been seen at events in New York and Hartford. Everyone knows that he adores you beyond what many thought he was capable.
"All that Logan's father did was confirm what everyone was already thinking. To Rupert Murdoch, or to the editors of the Washington Post or any other media outlet not controlled by Mitchum, you're the next Huntzberger wife, and by extension, a member of the competition.
"Just as Logan would never be offered a position at the Times, the minute you became his partner, you started closing doors," I reply. Honestly, I don't know why I have to point this out. It seems perfectly obvious to me.
"I didn't choose to fall in love with him! Now you're telling me that I sealed my fate by falling for a man whose family interests intersected with my ambitions," she answers, her voice taking on that frantic high pitched panic tone.
I open my mouth to respond, but for once, she beats me –
"Do you think when we started this I ever thought it would end up here? With Logan? The man who couldn't commit to anything, who stands for practically everything my mother despises. I thought we would have some fun. I thought I could try something new and different. But I fell for him, and I loved him. Love him! I still love him!" she continues, and nearly shrieks her last proclamation of love.
"Who are you trying to convince here?" I ask, playing devils advocate. I know she loves him. It is one of those sickening sureties, second only to Britney Spears being the generation Y Michael Jackson, dangling baby and all.
"No one. No one. I just… I wasn't expecting this. I thought I had longer. He is perfect for me, and I can't stand being away from him. London sucked so much, Paris. We had just sorted our relationship when he was shipped off. It just feels like even though we have been together for nearly three years, for a significant part of it we weren't really together.
"I don't want to rush this, and it feels rushed. I'm twenty-two. I haven't even graduated from college yet. I have no job prospects, thanks to his father. Shouldn't I be older before I think seriously about marriage?" Rory asks.
And there it is. The obsessive-compulsive planner rears her ugly head. There are so many plans in place for that girl, both self and other made. That's one advantage to having absentee, fugitive parents… they aren't around to 'help' plan your future.
"You two always joke that you came earlier than Logan expected you. That he didn't want to settle down with one girl until he had to, and that would have definitely been later than college. Have you ever considered that he came earlier than you planned, too?" I ask her.
Rory looks puzzled by this suggestion, and I seize the opportunity to continue. Time to nail the message home. With a hammer. This girl needs more than the average amount of force to figure love, things out.
"Logan may have started out love-dense and reluctant to accept your early arrival, but he soon got over it. The question is, what will you do now that your idealized timeline has been usurped? Because realistically, my comments to you a couple of weeks ago still stand. Not many relationships survive a declined marriage proposal. Either you finish this and leave it as a college romance, or you move forward.
"So take some time to think about this. Do you and Logan exist only as a college romance, or is there something there you want long term and outside in the real world? Forget about when you thought marriage should happen in an ideal situation, or when anyone else thinks you should get married," I advise her.
She nods her head slowly, picking up her bookbag, and grabbing her car keys from within. I would bet my trust fund that she is going to Stars Hollow. For Rory, many times 'thinking' is synonymous with 'talking to mom.'
"Promise me this," I ask.
"What?"
"Don't just talk to Lorelai about this."
"She's my best friend, Paris. Who the hell else am I meant to talk to about it? And what do you have against her?" she demands.
"If you want financial advice, do you ask a bankrupt person? The guys from Enron? Did your grandfather go to a butcher for his cardiac care? Lorelai's love life reads like a train wreck. Why would you seek advice on how to have a successful relationship from her?"
Sometimes, there are benefits to having no tact. Especially when you suddenly find yourself debating on the side of the playboy heir. I surely never thought it would come to this.
The look on her face is a mix of shock and indignation. But she needed to hear it. She needed a reality check. That small nod appears again, and I know she has taken my message in. Even if she didn't want to acknowledge the truth of it.
As she walks to the door, she turns to me again.
"If he calls, can you tell him I've gone to Stars Hollow for the night?"
I sigh and gesture my affirmation.
"And, would you make sure he's ok? I know he's not your favorite person, but for me?" she quietly asks.
Again, I agree.
Honestly, the things I do for my friends.