❤ Chapter Six ❤
There are days you wished the Earth would stop turning - that somehow it would notice your speck of existence, understand what you're going through, and be kind enough to give you a minute to think and to feel without the ticking distraction of time. Today was one of those days. I wished I could shut my eyes and tune out the world. I wished I had the guts to call in sick so I could hide under my covers for however long it would take to feel better again. My head throbbed and my whole body ached in a way that was beyond the physical. It was a pain that originated deep in the chambers of my heart and quaked through every vein of my body. At the epicenter was the man who I once loved, who I'd tried but never forgotten, who re-entered my life just as suddenly as he had left.
❤ Leap of Faith ❤
Just ignore it, commanded the voice in my head. I felt the glare from two desks behind me burn a gaping hole into the back of my skull. The said glare had been there since I crawled to work this morning and saw the cup of caramel macchiato on my desk, sitting beside a box of JooJoo's mini donuts. I'd caught Candice's eyes and nodded with a grateful smile. I noticed the room was relatively empty and there was a note on the white board that read "Come join us for a meet and greet to welcome the El Palo Express team on floor seven! Refreshments will be served." Knots formed in my stomach as I quickly sat down to start my assignment. It was the first time in perhaps ever that I ignored a message offering the word "refreshments". Today, however, I was perfectly content with the treats my best friend left me, desperately trying to avoid running into a certain someone and making a fool out of myself two days in a row. I couldn't even imagine what sort of words would fly out of my mouth if I had to stand within feet of Logan again. I haven't even begun to understand the intense emotions I felt last night and was definitely not ready to feel them twice within twenty-four hours. I could die an early death.
Now, an hour later, my conscious was reprimanding me with great severity. I should have known better. I should have known that nothing came for free. There should have been a big, fat warning sign in bold, red letters on the coffee cup that Candice gave me. I now paid the price for my naivety. I stiffened as I heard someone get up and walk over to stand directly behind me. Briefly, I closed my eyes in preparation for what was to come.
"Rory Gilmore," Candice called.
I kept my eyes glued to the computer screen as if I'd developed an ear infection in the last hour that severely compromised my hearing.
"Rory!" She scolded with losing patience.
Before I could pretend to type away on my keyboard with utmost concentration, my chair was spun around until I was looking into a pair of hard, green eyes.
"What are you doing?!" demanded the feisty blonde. Her tall, lean figure towered over my chair as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot against the laminated flooring.
"Working?" I tried for feigned innocence.
"I mean, what are you doing 'working' when you should be hurrying your butt down a flight of stairs to meet and greet your lover boy and have some serious reunited-after-three-years-extravaganza?" Boy, did she just get right to the point.
"Candice, as you can see by the piles of papers on my desk that I'm currently quite occupied and don't have time for any meet and greet, no matter how important of a business partner this new team leader is." I gestured to the color coded folders organized on my desk. Then, I leaned in closer after taking a quick peak around and whispered, "And he is not my lover boy!"
"I didn't get you the comfort food so you can pretend you can avoid seeing him every day," Candice lectured, "You have to face him, Rory. Face whatever this is. I did not sit with you last night watching you hold back tears just so you can act like a child now and run away from it all." The concern behind her stern glare was evident.
I sighed. "I'm not ready. Just give me some time. I know I'll have to see him eventually..."
Candice pulled up a chair beside me and turned my body around so we were face to face. "I know, Ror. It'll be okay. You're one of the most professional journalists I know. If you could handle the Obama campaign, you can handle this. If you can't face him as yourself, then at least take care of it professionally. You can't let him get to you every day while you're working under the same roof."
I gave her a weak, appreciative smile.
"Besides, you can't just avoid all work gatherings from now on. Think of all the cake you'll miss." She got up and pulled me out of my chair, forcing me in the direction of the hall. Just then, we saw the people from publishing walk through the door, followed closely by the rest of our coworkers.
"Oh! Looks like the party's over. Maybe next time." I flashed Candice a feeble smile and quickly sat back down. I pulled out a folder in front of me in an effort to get right back to work.
I could sense Candice's eye roll through the back of my head, but I didn't care. I knew I couldn't face Logan without turning into a nervous wreck. I would feel my insides melt, ever so slowly, into a puddle of confusing emotions. Then, I would think of Sam, and the guilt I would feel was worse than a hundred deaths. I couldn't face Logan, because I couldn't face myself.
Speaking of the devil, a tap on my shoulder made me look up to find Jenny standing there, holding what looked like a pastry box and a note.
"Mr. Huntzberger asked me to bring this to you." Jenny said in her ever-friendly, voicemail greeting tone.
For some reason, she examined my face peculiarly as I stood up and reached for the box, puzzled. "Thanks, Jenny," I tried to dismiss her, but she continued to look from the box to me. Eventually, she caught herself and walked away.
Candice and I exchanged a look. Mine was a look of confusion, and possibly terror, while hers was full of interest. I opened the folded note with shaky hands as if it would reveal a ticking time bomb. I knew that, bomb or no bomb, whatever was inside would leave me weak at the knees.
Ms. Gilmore,
It's a shame to have missed you at the meet and greet as it was truly my pleasure to spend time with you last evening.
You saved me from an otherwise highly uninteresting night. Here's a token of my gratitude.
I understand it must have been extremely important matters to keep you away from the great selection of refreshments the party had to offer.
Yours,
Logan
What do you know? I was right. My legs turned into jelly as I tried to casually sit back down. Dumbfounded by the words, a million thoughts flooded my brain. He had addressed me so formally. I stared at the signature "yours". What did it mean? Was it just a polite, formal term, or was it something more? As Candice examined my reaction, I opened the box and found myself staring at a dozen delicate pastries decorated elegantly with pieces of fruits and chocolate. I didn't know if I was more touched or stunned.
"Aww, look at that," Candice purred. "A love note and present from lover boy." She leaned over the box and picked out something that looked like a strudel. "Sam will be utterly heartbroken. His perfect, innocent Rory having an affair behind his back," she joked while waving the dessert around.
At the mention of Sam's name, any feelings of joy that was present vanished. I guiltily looked down at the baked goods in my hands and felt like a terrible human being. I grabbed the strudel from Candice and scolded, "There's nothing going on between me and Logan." I dumped the pastry back into the box. "Plus, I'm not married."
Sure, I was stunned to see Logan yesterday at the party. Sure, I was an emotional mess on the ride home. And I admit I thought about him all night before drifting into an uneasy sleep. But, I was obviously not in the state to think clearly last night. When I had finally dragged myself out of bed this morning, I reasoned that my reaction was perfectly normal for someone who saw their former boyfriend unexpectedly. It must have been shock that made me experience so many emotions. It didn't mean there could ever be anything between us. We were in the past. He and I had both moved on.
A buzzing sound came from my desk and I automatically reached for my phone. On the screen, I saw Sam's name light up. Sam, my boyfriend. Sam, the man I love. Sam, the man I will always be true to. I held up the phone to show Candice as if it was proof that I no longer had feelings for Logan. Okay, I admit I have feelings for Logan. The kind of feelings you feel for a friend who you haven't seen in a long time and cared about in an appropriate amount. But, I didn't have loving feelings for Logan. My feelings of love were reserved for Sam, and Sam only.
"Hey Sam!" I exclaimed into the phone a bit too loudly while fidgeting with a pencil.
"Hey, babe. You free for a sec?"
"Yeah, I'm not doing much right now. Well, actually I would be working if somebody would stop bugging me." I shot Candice a look.
Sam gave a deep chuckle. "What's Candice bothering you with now?"
My existing smile froze on my face as I realized the subject would lead to Logan. "Oh, nothing. You know Candice." Embarrassed, I looked up at my friend who was squinting her eyes at me.
I wasn't prepared to tell Sam about Logan. I haven't had time to think about how I was going to break the news.
Sam laughed. "I know she's a persistent one."
I smiled into the phone. "So, what's up?"
"I've got some news, Ror." His voice filled with excitement. "I was doing some job search this morning and saw that the Herald Sun is hiring a feature writer. I hope you don't mind but I sent them a copy of the resume you gave me a while back."
"Wow, Sam. That's great!" I beamed. "That's the highest-circulating newspaper in Australia! It would be ridiculously wonderful to work there, but it must be really competitive."
For the first time today, I felt relaxed, slightly happy even. The Herald Sun! No matter how somber of a mood I was in, I couldn't not be excited about that. I could see myself working there in Melbourne. It would be a dream come true for the little girl in me to have a great job in a foreign country. The best part was I was going with my boyfriend and it was only for two years, the perfect length of time to really get a feel of a country. I realized how blessed I was to have Sam in my life. The way Sam always did everything with me in mind made me feel so cared for. I should appreciate him more, instead of crying over former boyfriends and receiving croissants from them in big white boxes.
"You're right, it's highly competitive." His voice broke me out of my reverie. "But guess who's got a phone interview in two days?"
"What?!" I exclaimed, unable to believe my ears, "Are you serious?"
"Your resume did the trick." He laughed, "I got a reply in just a few hours."
"Oh my gosh! That's amazing." I looked up at Candice who, although didn't know the full story, was just as ecstatic. "I can't believe it! I have to prepare. I need to research! The company, their features, their history, all their different departments, there's just not enough time." My brain was clouded with all the different things I wanted to do. Getting an interview was always exciting. It felt like you were given an opportunity to prove yourself. You felt recognized.
"I know you will, but don't stress too much over it, 'kay? I don't want you to be too consumed by this interview," he warned.
"I can't promise anything, but I'll try. I have to get researching now." I had already opened the web browser and typed in the newspaper's name.
He chuckled. "All right, all right, I'll leave you to it. I'll send you their email and job posting."
"Thanks, Sammy." I grinned.
"My pleasure, babe."
"Oh, Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you," I whispered into the phone.
I realized I always knew where my heart belonged at the end of the day. My heart swelled with love whenever I was around Sam. He always brought out a sense of calm in me. It was impossible to not care for him as much as he cared for me.
His soft chuckle filled my ear as I heard him say. "Right back at you, babe."
❤ Leap of Faith ❤
Last night, I somehow managed to navigate to Candice's car while blinded by tears. I found her leaning against the door, looking at me worriedly. I wiped hastily at my cheeks and tried to stabilize my mood. I didn't understand why Logan's two simple words could affect me so intensely. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing him after three years or because of the memories tied to those words. Memories that have been suppressed deep down in my mind and were now unleashed. Whatever it was, I knew he was the only one who could affect me that way. He was the only one to make me feel a million conflicting emotions all at once.
I got into the car and sat there. Candice got in after me and didn't ask a single question. She just handed me the plate of cake and we ate. I felt somewhat better after having some food in my stomach. Then, we both leaned back in our seats and closed our eyes. The comfortable silence calmed me. I could still hear every word Logan said, but at least my heart was now beating at a regular pace.
Finally, I broke the silence and told her everything. When I was done, Candice, to my surprise, didn't utter a single word. She started rummaging through her CD compartment for a good minute. Eventually, she inserted her CD of choice and a sorrowful, sweet voice of a girl filled the air. I recognized the song as soon as the soft piano accompaniment started. "Samson" by Regina Spektor. There was an inexplicable sadness coming from the song. It was wistful like an ode to a lost love. I thought back to the first time Candice and I heard the song on the radio. We disputed about its meaning. She thought it was sung from Delilah's point of view, revealing her true feelings for Samson and the love story she had wanted. I thought it related to something deeper, a personal experience. What came to my mind vividly now, listening to the voice that hid a pain I hadn't noticed before, was what Candice then told me. She said that it wasn't just Delilah singing, it was Samson's story. In the end, he lost everything. Yet, it was that act of losing that made him gain perspective. He was finally able to see. Behind the song's lyrics and soft melody was a truthful message. It's never too late. I knew that was the message Candice was telling me now by playing this particular song.
I closed my eyes and let their tragic love surround me. Fresh tears stung my eyes as I felt their pain. As the tears slowly gathered at the corners of my eyes and slid down my cheeks, I didn't move to wipe them away. I was afraid that any movement would disrupt the serenity of this moment. I heard the gentle plea in the girl's singsong voice and felt it tug at my heartstrings. I didn't speak. I wanted to let Samson and Delilah finish their story. After all, it wasn't too late.
❤ Leap of Faith ❤
After lunch, I was able to minimize my thoughts of Logan to once per hour as I began my assignment. It also helped that I had the nerves for my upcoming interview to distract me. Obviously it affected my concentration on the article but at least it meant I had less time to compulsively glance at the white box of pastries sitting beside my keyboard.
"Where's Jenny?" Peter's urgent voice boomed in the room, making me look up.
Peter paced back and forth by Jenny's desk, holding a large manila envelope behind his back.
Rachel, an intern, went up to him and explained, "Jenny's on coffee break and will be right back." She looked at the door like she was praying that Jenny might miraculously appear.
Peter looked at Rachel up and down as if noticing she worked here for the first time. "I suppose you'll do. I need this document delivered to Mr. Huntzberger in room 715. Have him read and sign it when he's free." Peter placed the envelope on Jenny's desk and was about to leave.
Candice bolted toward them with her heels clicking on the floor. "Peter!" She called, stopping him in his tracks. She smiled at him and continued, "This sounds like an important and pressing matter. Perhaps it would be better if you let someone of higher seniority take care of it."
Before I could comprehend what was going on, Candice waved her hand at me. "Rory's free. She can go," she said to him with a winning smile.
Blood drained from my face as I realized her plan. Peter looked at me, and then back at Candice. "Very well. Ms. Gilmore, get on it." He turned and left the room, leaving me staring with my mouth slightly ajar.
With everyone in the room looking at me, I got up, and walked over to Jenny's desk stiffly. My heart pounded at the thought of what I had to do. I wasn't prepared for this. I did put on some lip-gloss and mascara this morning, just in case I would run into Logan. But, this. I was going to walk into his territory with no cards in my hands. I didn't know if my legs could even make it there as they were already buckling in. My eyes scanned the envelope and finally glared at my unbelievable friend. If looks could set fires, she would be a flaming human torch right about now. Unfazed, Candice picked up the envelope and placed it in my hand. I stewed as she actually reached out and started smoothing out the stray hair around my face. Then, she tugged at my blazer to straighten it out. My face flushed as I felt everyone's stare.
"Candice!" I hissed, "People are watching!"
"Okay, you're all good to go." She ignored my obvious discontent and flashed me an encouraging smile. "Go get him, soldier." Placing her hands on my shoulders, she practically pushed me out the door.
I walked into the hallway and waited by the elevator. I could make it down a flight of stairs in half the time, but I obviously didn't mind the wait. I didn't have time to stay fuming at Candice for as long as I wanted to. My mind was blank with terror. I needed more time, as much as it took to stop my heartbeat from harassing my eardrums so I could at least think of what I was going to say. Ping. The elevator doors opened and I stepped in. In no time, I was standing in the warmly lit hallway with offices to my right. I walked down the corridor, passing numerous rooms. 705. 706. 707. Think, Rory, think. 709. 710. 711. Okay, I'll thank him for the pastries and say it was nice seeing him last night. I'll then give him the envelope and explain what I was doing there like a normal person. 713. 714. 715. A ball of nerves formed in my stomach as I stood before the white frosted glass door. I pictured the man standing inside. His eyes. His smile. Oh god. Slowly, I brought my hand to the door and gave a gentle knock.
❤ Leap of Faith ❤
The door abruptly opened and Logan stood before me, his eyes briefly widening with surprise, before giving me a broad, sweet smile. My heart flipped as I attempted to smile back. I noticed his hair was back to its usual ruffledness and felt the familiarity soothe me. In his grey suit and blue tie, he looked exactly the same as years ago. He was on his phone, and continued to answer in "yeses" and "that's corrects". After stepping aside to let me in, Logan gestured to a dark grey arm chair. I nodded at him and sat down. As he paced around the room talking into the phone about contracts and acquisitions, I looked around the office, examining every detail.
The walls were a sterile white, contrasting the dark maroon furniture. A large L-shaped desk paired with a black leather chair sat at the far corner. On the desk were a computer monitor and a metallic pen holder. My curiosity peaked when I saw a photo frame. I wished I could see the lone photo Logan had chosen to display in his office. I wondered if it was of someone new in his life. The thought made my stomach curl. I forced myself to move on and looked to the other corner. There was a tall bookcase filled with binders and volumes on all the shelves except the middle one, which held a few small souvenir-like objects. I had to resist the urge to walk over and sneak a peak. It seemed like all the interesting belongings were on the other side of the room. Where I sat, I was met with two dark grey couches and a coffee table. I remembered the envelope clenched in my hand and laid it on the surface.
I looked at Logan, with his back to me, as I heard him say goodbye on the phone. His posture exuded confidence. It was a characteristic I was used to and adored. I always felt proud of the way he handled himself so gracefully. Listening to him talk, I was surprised at how comfortable it was to sit in his office. Instead of the nerves I had dreaded, dancing in my stomach were only excitement and anticipation. Finally, he clicked off the phone, and turned around.
A slow, easy grin spread across his face. "Hey, Ace."
I swear my heart skipped a beat as I caught myself smiling back at him, breathless. I stood up and replied slyly, "Hey, Mr. Huntzberger."
Logan smiled bigger knowing it was a clear mockery of his previous formal address of me in the note.
"If I'd known you were coming, I would have brought some coffee." He walked toward me, until he was standing feet away.
"That's quite all right. I'm not completed depleted of my caffeine at this moment."
He grinned while looking into my eyes. "I tried, but couldn't find you this morning. Surely, you were interested in meeting and greeting some of the great, fine people here."
My face flushed as I remembered how I purposely avoided him. "Oh, I had a ton of work to do. I couldn't get away." I managed to spit out an explanation.
"Ah, of course. Nothing stops you when there's work to be done." He smirked. "But, you got my gift? I didn't want you to miss out on the refreshments."
"Yes, I did it. Thanks for the concern. I appreciate it." I nodded with a smile while holding his gaze.
Logan stepped closer. "It wasn't all concern."
"Oh, really?" An involuntary gulp went down my throat.
"No, I thought it was a great excuse for you to come thank me in person."
"I suppose it was..." I managed to spit out.
We looked at each other with smiles on our faces like we were the only people in the world. The effect he had on me was unfathomable. I was a willing prisoner of his spell.
"Thank you," I eventually said softly.
"You're welcome," he answered with an amused nod.
A ringtone filled the air and we were startled out of our gaze. Logan gave me an apologetic smile as he answered the phone. I let out a silent breath as I was temporarily released from his trance. Light-headed, I found myself walking toward the back of the room. I turned to catch Logan's eyes and silently asked for his permission to look around. He replied with a small nod.
I went over to the bookcase, curious to see the displayed objects up close. There was a little golden bell with the word Texas engraved on the side. Beside it was a bronze goblet that had Las Vegas spelled out in baroque silver patterns. As I moved my eyes along the shelf, my breath caught in my throat when I saw the small, rose-gold colored Eiffel tower that Logan and I had gotten in Paris years back. I had said it would look good in his apartment. Recollections of our Europe trip flooded my mind. I couldn't believe he kept the souvenir after all these years, let alone had a spot for it in his office.
Quickly, before I got caught up in the string of memories, I moved my view along to the object to the right. A soft gasp escaped my lips. On the dark wood shelf was a small replica that stood tall. It was made of steel, and had red block letters along its length. A rocket - a miniature replica of the romantic gift Logan had given me before. I felt my throat clench. Tears lurked behind my eyes as I stared at it in disbelief. Through the dizziness I felt, I heard a pounding memory try to escape its confinement. It was what I most feared and my undoing numerous times before. It was the one thought I tried the hardest to push away in all these years. Now, any sort of wall was useless against the solid steel figure before my eyes. I remembered the meaning behind the rocket. "That's true love."
"I bought it 'cause it reminded me of someone." Logan's soft voice from behind startled me.
I quickly swallowed the lump in my throat and cleared my voice. I didn't even realize when he had gotten off the phone. All I could do was stare at the shelf, pretending to look at the other ornaments.
The silence dragged on until it became unbearable. Logan finally spoke gently. "Did you come to give me something?"
I straightened myself as it occurred to me. "Right, Peter wanted me to give you that envelope over there." I pointed toward the coffee table. "He would like you to read and sign it when you're free." I bit my lip when I was done.
Eventually, I willed myself to look up at him. His expression was kind with the slightest hint of hurt. It hurt him to see me like this, I realized. I felt my throat tighten at the unwelcomed thought. I realized I was right to be afraid of coming here. At this moment, I wanted nothing more than to run away and escape.
A knock on the door broke the silence and we turned toward the sound in unison. Quickly, Logan composed himself and called, "Come in."
A girl in her late twenties, with blazing red hair tied into a ponytail, walked in.
"Mr. Huntzberger, your meeting starts in five." She spoke in a mild, but confident tone.
"Thanks, Shannon. I'll be right there."
Shannon nodded and left, closing the door behind her.
I knew it was my cue to leave. Smiling at Logan in, what I could only hope was, a reassuring way, I said, "I better let you get to your meeting."
"Thanks for bringing the papers, Ace," Logan spoke softly.
I gave a nod with a smile and walked past him, heading for the door. As I reached for the door knob, I heard him call me.
"Rory?"
I spun around as if it was a reflex to the sound of his voice. We looked at each other in the eyes.
"Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?"
I was speechless.
"With your boyfriend, of course," he added with a smile, " I would like to meet this lucky guy. I mean I've to make sure he's good enough for you."
Say something. My throat closed off at this exact moment. I continued to stare as my cheeks heated up.
"Tomorrow night, at seven?" he asked, more insistently.
He looked at me with those caramel eyes just like he'd done countless times in the past. In his eyes, nothing had changed. There was warmth and care. My heart clenched with a dull, dreadful ache. No matter how at ease we were with each other, undeniable facts hung in the air. We weren't together. We haven't spoken in years. And we were separated by invisible barriers that couldn't be crossed. I looked at him and I felt so sad, because this thought occurred to me. We could never go back. It would never be the same again. The Eiffel tower, the rocket, they were all in the past. Their physical presence was now only a reminder of what we used to be, what we couldn't have, what we had thrown away. Looking into his expectant eyes, I heard myself say.
"Sure."
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