A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! I'm going to mention the name of Shelby Corcoran in this chapter, but she's not Rachel's mother in this story and I don't think she will interact with Rachel much.

Disclaimer: I don not own Glee and its characters.

Chapter 10 – June 2012

"Alright, Dwarf. Let me get this straight."

In the huge boardroom, Sue Sylvester, who was installing herself in the executive chair at the end of the table, her secretaries, Beckey and Bree standing right behind her, started speaking through a bullhorn. Rachel, straightening up on one of the chairs at the other end of the table, was trying to maintain the dignity of her having worked on so hard up until the very moment. Will Schuester was sporting a sympathetic look at his senior editor.

"You are the one who made the decision who would write the special feature for the Olympics Issue. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I am." Rachel simply answered, trying her hardest not to get fidgeted with a squeaky sound coming from the bullhorn.

"I'm responsible for that, Sue." The editor in chief of The Musicraker cut in.

But the devil in a blue Tracksuit immediately held her hand up in the air for Will not to interrupt. "You have no right to speak unless I finish. Besides, I don't trust a man with curly hair." Sue turned to look at the brunette and continued. "And Mr. Jesse St. James is the writer you chose."

"Yes, Ma'am." Rachel firmly said, looking straight at the company owner.

"Becky, give me that file." Sue stretched her arm towards the shorter woman with glasses before Beckey put the file on it. The owner did put her bullhorn down on the table and pulled her glasses out of her pocket before slowly flipping through it. "Did you choose Mr. St. James as a writer for the issue, knowing he had committed embezzlement of the TV production's money and stormed his way out of his place in LA?"

"No, sir."

Rachel tried to keep a straight face, but seriously? She felt her face losing color, because, because… what the hell did Sue just say? How did she know that? How did her editor in chief know that? Usually, they didn't do a background check since most of the people in this industry got a job through a personal connection. All they cared was connections.

Rachel met Jesse through a common acquaintance, Shelby Corcoran, who was working at The New Yorker. He was a cub writer at that time, having tried contributing articles to the magazine since in college. Rachel was a cub, too, as an editor at Silvester Publishing. One day, Shelby introduced Jesse to her, saying that his writing style was not suited to The New Yorker, but to The Musicraker, and that his wide range of knowledge about music and films would help. Will Schuester liked his writings, too.

Since then, Jesse came to write articles for The Musicraker regularly. He continued writing for The Musicraker for a while after he and Rachel had broken up, even though he did not do regularly any more. Until he decided to move out of the City to LA, aspiring to write screenplays for TV shows or movies for that matter.

"So you're telling me that you didn't know that he had a drinking problem either?" Sue's voice slightly held a hint of accusation as she took off her glasses.

"I-I didn't."

Sue raised her eyebrow. "Why the hesitation?"

She knew that it would not be advisable to keep anything from the devil in Tracksuits. Rachel slowly let out a deep sigh before telling the company owner about everything and nothing that she had been on her mind in London.

"How's she doing?" Finn, who had been on the 7th floor, asked Mercedes once he returned to the 5th floor, where the staff of The Musicraker was working.

"It's been almost two hours since she went up to the boardroom." Mercedes sighed. "I don't think it's going well."

"I shouldn't have hit him in his face." He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, as he plumped himself down on the chair at Rachel's desk, which usually had been organized, but now was a mess, scattering DVDs, CDs, and something relevant documents for the Olympics Issue.

"He deserved it." Mercedes reassured. "Besides, I don't think you're the reason as to why he jacked up and disappeared." She turned her head to the blonde assistant, who happened to pass by the two of them. "Kitty, did you get hold of him? Or anyone who knows him?"

"Um, I've got a TV producer." Kitty hesitated, changing her grip of the heavy files around her chest to avoid slipping them down.

Mercedes frowned, miming for the assistant to go on. "So? Did you find anything?"

Kitty roved around the editorial room before putting the files down on Mercedes' desk and speaking. "Uh, the producer guy said," she cleared her throat, "Jesse took liberties with the money that the producers pooled."

"What?" Mercedes and Finn cried in unison.

"That's no the only one." Kitty leaned the partition between Rachel's desk and Mercedes' one. "He was being stuck on writing scripts and ended up escaping into alcohol. They are making a frantic search for him, too."

"No wonder." Mercedes mumbled before shaking her head. "I don't understand." She folded her arms across her chest. "He might have thought he could be back on track if he took this job, but why did he disappear then? I mean, before he could finish writing?"

"Because he ran out of inspiration?" Kitty shrugged.

"Yeah." Mercedes agreed. "But, again. Why did he take the offer if that's the case?" She looked up at the ceiling, thinking something was missing.

"He had to know the producers were coming to the City to find him, so he needed to get out of here. With other person's money." Finn reasoned, idly playing one of the Rachel's stuffed animals on her desk.

"Maybe." Mercedes still was sporting that-doesn't-make-sense look on her face. "But, don't you think he should've gone to anywhere but here in the first place? I mean, I wouldn't return to the City. New York is the first place the producers come to look for him. Why did he run the risk of having returned? He came back to the City over two months ago, right?"

"The only thing you have possible–"

"Rachel is the reason…" Mercedes mumbled, cutting Kitty off.

"Rachel?" Finn frowned. "What does she have to do with it? I know she dated the douche before, but he didn't seem to want to get back together with her while we were in London." He unconsciously squeezed the stuffed monkey. "Neither did she." He added under his breath.

"No, not that one." Mercedes started pacing around. "I have a very bad feeling about this." She mumbled before stopping and turning to see Finn and Kitty. "He was always trying to take something from her. And I guess he might have done it this time, too."

"So, are you saying you haven't either considered arranging a replacement, or counseled him to mend his ways?" The company owner continued to pursue.

"I–" Rachel shifted on the chair, knowing what was coming next, "didn't think that it will be in its best interest to allow someone else to replace Mr. St. James on the course of the coverage."

Sue leaned back into the executive chair as she crossed her legs. "Which means," she narrowed her eyes, "you didn't have a Plan B. What if he was admitted to hospital because of acute gastroenteritis? What if some moron caused a fatal accident and he died? Why didn't you hire an assistant for him?"

"He told me," Rachel cleared her throat, "Mr. St. James told me that he's got his own assistants, and he's never brought them with him to meetings or coverage tours." Which was true. Granted, it was no excuse. She knew.

"That's where you're wrong."

Rachel didn't say anything. Generally, young freelance writers didn't have their own assistants. And she was sure that she might be told that it would be her job to make do on within their budget if she raised the issue of the budget to hire an extra assistant.

Sue irritably rolled her eyes as she saw Rachel pursed her lips. "Now tell me about the last day in London. When was the last time you saw him?"

Rachel let out a breath. "After the fight between Mr. St. James and Mr. Hudson, we all walked Mr. St. James to his hotel room. Around 11 pm. That was the last time I saw him." She informed in a businesslike tone.

"Hmm." Sue put her glasses on and held her hand towards the other secretary. "Bree, give me the file." After Bree did as she was told, the company owner peered the senior editor over her glasses. "According to the story I've heard, you went directly to the room where the Gigantor stayed after all of you have returned to the hotel."

"I gave Mr. Hudson medical treatment." Rachel felt her heart beat pounding louder. There was no way in hell that Sue had to know what had happened between Finn and her after the treatment.

Sue's eyes formed into a slit suspiciously. "Mr. St. James got a few cuts on his face, too, didn't he? Who bound up his wounds? Or why didn't you take him to the hospital? He would've filed a suit, don't you think?" She slammed the file down on the table.

Rachel jumped up a little in the chair by the vibration from the impact on the table. "Mr.–" She cleared her throat, "Mr. St. James got into a tangle with Mr. Lynn on purpose, which caused Mr. Hudson's equipment on the fritz." She tucked a pile of her hair behind her ear. "I believe that we should rather file a lawsuit against Mr. St. James."

"Oh, believe me, I'm working on it." Sue snorted. Then she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward on the table. "More than anything else, I'd like to talk about your relationships with Mr. St. James and Mr. Granny Panties. Haven't you heard the saying: Don't shit where you eat?"

Rachel swallowed thickly.

"Mr. St. James and you have a history, is that correct?" Sue folded her arms across her chest as she leaned into the chair again.

"Yes." Rachel's voice deflated.

"And you're having relations with the Gigantor, is that correct?" Sue was ready for blaming the brunette's personal life on the trouble which Jesse had caused.

Rachel was on verge of tears. Her eyes cast down, her biting the bottom lip.

"I take it a yes." Sue slowly turned to look at the editor in chief. "You've told me that the Gigantor disappeared for no particular reason, despite the fact that he had gotten a job at the end of the year 2010, is that right, Will?"

"That's true, but," Will tried to save his editor's ass from the worst possible scenario, "he left before he could sign a contract, didn't even start working."

"That's not important here." Sue rolled her eyes before turned to see the senior editor. "From the story that I've been told, right before Hudson left, you had relations with him, too. Is that correct?" Sue asked in a direct tone.

Tears falling on her cheeks, Rachel answered between in a snuffle. "That is correct."

"Don't you think that your relations with the giant and Mr. St. James got you to lose your grip? Which is to say that you passed over Mr. St. James' problems because of it?" The company owner concluded more than sounded asking.

"No!" Rachel raised her voice. "Yes, I might have let his problems pass, but that's not because we once were a couple," she put her hands on the table, trying to suppress her emotions, "but because it was all I wanted do for the coverage to go well or finish without–" she paused as she cast down her eyes before mumbling the last word, "trouble."

"And it caused us huge trouble, didn't it?" Sue concluded bluntly.

"Yes, it did." Rachel admitted in defeat. "I'll take the consequences."

Rachel rushed into a cubicle in the ladies' bathroom, avoiding anyone could see her crying. Once she was settled in the quadrilateral box, she dropped her face in her hands and started weeping silently.

She didn't know how long she had been in there. But, she couldn't hide in here forever.

When Rachel tore off a length of toilet paper to wipe her eyes and was about to emerge out of the cubicle, female voices entered the ladies room.

'Wow, I never thought that she could twist guys around her little finger.' Which Rachel thought was Harmony. 'I mean, look at her face.' She heard Harmony mocking. 'He got her this time though.'

'But, you've got promoted to a junior editor thanks to her.' Which voice Rachel assumed was Bree's. 'She's got demoted to the same position as you, so she can't boss you around any more.' Bree pointed out nonchalantly. 'Or, she could possibly get fired if she couldn't find him or a replacement to write the article.'

'Right. Do you think she still has relations with Finn, by the way?' Harmony's voice sounded smug.

'She said nothing when Sue asked in the conference room.' Bree informed. 'But, judging from her expression on the face, there's something going on between them.'

'Hmm.' Harmony paused for an eternity before declaring. 'It's worth trying.'

Bree let out an empty laugh. 'What a bitch.' Rachel heard a sound of Bree's slapping her colleague on the arm.

'You know me, I always get what I want.' Harmony announced full of herself.

After Harmony and Bree went off from the ladies room, Rachel slowly opened the cubicle door. Then she looked at herself in a mirror as she touched her own nose, her lips and her cheeks, with a hand. She took a deep breath, but shook her head; She had tons to do right now. No time for self-pity.

Rachel held her head high as she emerged out of the ladies room.

"Don't bother." Mercedes stopped Finn from going up to the reference room.

Finn had just heard from Artie that Rachel had been lodged in the reference room recently. "Why not?" He protested. "I'm really worried about her."

Mercedes smiled sadly. "She's in dead trouble right now." She started. "She doesn't need another–" She bit her tongue. She couldn't broach the whole story, as to why her best friend used the reference room as her bedroom, why she had gotten demoted to a junior editor, and why she had avoided Finn.

Not only had Rachel gotten demoted to a junior editor, but her pay had been cut 30 percent because of the London debacle. On top of those things, she just found that Jesse had withdrawn all her saving from her bank account using her laptop, which Mercedes and Rachel assumed had happened while Rachel had been in the hotel room with Finn on the last day in London.

All of those things caused Rachel to have to look for a smaller apartment in a month. She, however, had no time. Because she had over 20 pages of the special feature article for the Olympic Issue to write; she decided to write it by herself. The deadline would be in a month.

Once Rachel decided to do that, and the editor in chief compassionately allowed her to stay in the reference room and to take over Jesse's job, she began researching every interview the directors had had before, watching the rest of their films she hadn't watched yet, and studying the music they had used in their films. Yes, Rachel Berbra Berry didn't do half-assed. And that was the only way for her to not get fired.

"What? Mercedes. Another what?" Finn asked. "Another distraction? Another stress? You mean, that is me?" He frowned. "I just, want to help her."

"Finn," Mercedes put her hand on his arm, "she has to meet the deadline. In a month. That's not all, you know, the special feature for the Olympics Issue is not the only task she has." She tried to explain without referring the causes which led the brunette to get in trouble.

"She eats?" Ignoring Mercedes' remark, Finn asked. "Artie said she's lodged in the reference room all day and missed her lunch."

Mercedes let out a sigh. "I check up on her every two or three hours, Finn."

"I'll get some food for her." With that, Finn rushed into the elevator in defiance of Mercedes' protest 'There's nothing you can do right now!'

About thirty minutes later, Finn returned to the company building with a paper bag which vegan sandwiches, fruit salad, vegan yogurt, and large cup of kale juice were in. He pressed the button of 13th floor as he stepped into the elevator. And when he reached the reference room, he softly knocked on the door.

But there was no answer.

Finn pushed the door open and peeked inside the room from the door frame as he found Rachel sleeping, her face lying flat on the one of the desks in there, which a ton of books and documents were scattered. His heart broke. He couldn't wake her up. He silently put the paper bag in the vacant space on the desk, then left her sleeping.

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