"Taylor, I've presented you with all of the pertinent numbers and information that you need in order to pay me for my services as the editor of the Gazette. I'm providing a service, and that service has value," Rory reiterated.
She had been volleying back and forth with Taylor Doosey for almost a hour, and she didn't feel like she was making anymore progress. Frankly, she wanted to bang her head on her desk repeatedly, but she didn't figure that would help her case at all.
"And I've explained to you repeatedly that I will not budge on this issue, Miss Gilmore. I made it clear when you accepted the position that there would be no salary associated with said position. If you don't like it, you are welcome to quit and we'll close the doors to your beloved Gazette," Taylor told her.
She felt momentary guilt and like it was her responsibility to stay so that the Gazette could continue to operate, but then she remembered Tristan's pep talk from right before her meeting with Taylor. "You're an amazing journalist, Mary. You have a bright future, and you don't need to feel like this is your only option. Go in there and show him your worth, and if it won't see it then you have to decide for yourself whether or not you think you're worth more. I can tell you that I know for certain that you're worth more." She took a deep breath and decided that even if she didn't feel like she was worth more than that, she needed to stand up for herself.
"That simply isn't acceptable, Taylor. The numbers don't lie; the Gazette brings in enough to justify paying me."
"I've made my decision. Your position will remain unpaid," Taylor insisted.
Rory took a deep breath and gave herself a silent pep talk.
"Then I'm afraid that I'm giving two weeks notice, Taylor. Best of luck to you in finding another editor."
"Then I suppose we'll just have to close the Gazette," Taylor threatened snidely.
"I'll make certain that the other two employees know that they're losing their jobs because their town selectman is stubborn; they should know that before casting their votes in the next election," Rory shot back.
Taylor replied as his face went pale.
"Well, I never! You are more like your mother every day," Taylor accused.
"I should be so lucky as to be like my mother," Rory replied tersely, opening the door and showing Taylor out. She steadied her breathing for a moment and picked up her phone to send Tristan a text message.
Didn't go so well. He refused to pay me, so I gave my two weeks notice. I know I should feel good about standing up for myself, but I really don't right now. -R
I'm proud of you, Mare. You did the right thing. I was at an alumni board meeting today and heard about a job at Yale that would be perfect for you. I'll e-mail you the info. Still on for our run and dinner tonight? -T
Yep, I'll see you after work. -R
Rory opened her laptop and opened her e-mail to find that the promised message from Tristan was already waiting on her. She clicked the link and read through the information. It was an Internal Communications Writer for the Yale School of Medicine. She read through the job description quickly.
Develops and implements a communications strategy that increases awareness and visibility of the medical education programs and initiatives at Yale School of Medicine. Reporting to the Deputy Dean for Education, the Director of Communications will be responsible for producing high-quality written content for websites, newsletters and announcements that describe, explain and highlight the important programs, services, events, innovations and achievements of medical education at the School of Medicine.
Her excitement built as she read through the responsibilities and requirements, and by the end of the posting she was almost giddy with excitement. They were looking for someone with a journalism degree and at least three years experience in a related field, and with project management experience. Her time at the Yale Daily News and her career since then made her perfectly qualified for the position. She looked up at the clock - she had just enough time to submit her resume before she needed to leave to meet Tristan in Hartford. She make some quick changes to her resume in order to emphasize the skills that were pertinent to the job posting and sent it off before she was plagued with too many self-doubts to go through with it. After hitting send, she closed her laptop and gathered her things to head to Tristan's.
After another run, which was again a bit easier than the previous two, Tristan insisted that she help him make homemade spaghetti sauce for their spaghetti.
"It's easy, Mare. There's no way you can mess it up," he urged her. "Come on, get your butt in here and help me."
"I am a disaster in the kitchen, Bible Boy. There's no way I'm helping you, so just forget it," Rory insisted.
"Fine, have it your way," Tristan smirked. Just when Rory thought she'd won the conversation, he walked over to the kitchen counter where she was sitting and picked her up, carrying her into the kitchen before depositing her in front of the sink. "Wash your hands, woman. I for one am starving, so we need to cook," he told her with a mock stern voice.
"You are so going to regret this," Rory informed him with a laugh as she complied and washed her hands. "Alright, tell me what to do."
"Come chop the onion," Tristan instructed her.
"I'm sorry, you're going to trust me with a knife? And you think I know how to chop an onion?"
"You're serious?" Tristan asked incredulously.
"I'm serious. I told you, Tris, I'm a disaster."
"Well, I'll just add that to our list of things to improve. Now, get over here."
Rory walked over to the counter where Tristan was standing and he moved her in front of the cutting board.
"Pick up the knife," he instructed her. She grabbed the knife, but gripped it wrong and would have had her fingers in the way.
"You really are a disaster," Tristan muttered. "Here, let me help you."
He stood behind her and moved her hand to grip the knife properly, placing his hand over hers to show her what to do. He helped her with the first few cuts and after he felt confident that all of her fingers would be safe to see the kitchen another day, he moved aside and watched her.
"Look at you, going for runs and chopping onions. Look out, world," Tristan teased her good-naturedly.
"Well, it helps to have an excellent teacher," she mused and she concentrated on finishing the onion. "Hey, quit taking pictures of me! Gilmore girls don't cook, mister!" she admonished him.
"But you look so cute in the kitchen," Tristan joked.
"Always the charmer, that one," Rory muttered under her breath. "What's next?"
"I think I'll chop the garlic myself and let you watch. You need a little more experience before I let you get a knife that close to your fingers. Scoot over," he instructed her. "You take over browning the ground beef."
"You assume that I know how to brown ground beef," Rory told him with a laugh.
"Just use the wooden spoon to break it up into small pieces and keep stirring it. I'll have you cooking yet," Tristan teased as he went to work on the garlic, throwing both the garlic and onion in the pan. After setting the sauce to simmer, they both sat down at the bar.
"I applied for that job opening that you sent me," Rory blurted out excitedly.
"Really? That's great, Mare! They would be crazy not to hire you."
"I hope you're right. I feel like we're making progress with my mental and emotional well being, but I desperately want some stability in my professional life."
"We'll get you there, I promise. It's only been a couple of weeks, and you're doing great," Tristan encouraged her.
"Thank you, Tris. I couldn't do any of this without you."
"You could do this without me; it's just nice to have help and an outside perspective," he corrected.
"Well, regardless, I'm very grateful. I'm sure that you have better things to do than to spend all of your downtime with me."
"I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing, Mare. Now, let's go get the pasta started so we can eat dinner."