Nothing in my life requires me to be saved, but I've got the worst damsel in distress complex. Yes, I know, girls should be able to save themselves (or be smart enough to keep themselves out of "save me situations") but still…. A guy stepping up to the plate to help a lady out? That's pretty hot. Really hot! (shameless plug: see all the saving scenarios in Love Game!!)
Anyway, this chapter marks the return of Finn. Yay! I know you've been waiting for it and I hope this lives up to your expectations, it was a little difficult to get the tone and pacing just right, but I like where this is going!
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing and loving! You are the BEST!
Logan did not know how long he'd been in that bed. Somewhere along the line, he'd moved from the couch to the bed and he'd been there ever since. Three days, maybe, but it could have just as easily been a week or ten days. Going into recluse mode and omitting showers and eating from his daily routine tended to have that effect.
The boy's world had imploded and the damage was immense, especially since it caught him off-guard. Logan had always been the heartbreaker, leaving throngs of girls to lay awake at night, figuring out ways to mend their broken hearts. And he had expected Denise to be there for him, after all, the girl was crazy about him; loved him even.
It was payback. He shouldn't have used her, he knew that and this was the cosmos's way of driving that home. But the girl was there, clean-cut bob, stilettos and all and he took advantage of that. He knew she would not make him forget Rory, but he couldn't resist charming his way in and making Denise believe that whatever they had was real.
And maybe there had been a momentary realness; Logan couldn't tell anymore. He just knew it wasn't right. The right thing would have been to hold off proposing at Richard and Emily's Graduation Party, the right thing would have been to take her on a vacation to Palo Alto to see for herself what a great place it was, the right thing would have been to let her land a job first.
However, that was in the past.
The only right thing to do now was to lie in bed and drift between reality and "what ifs", "could haves" or, better yet, "should haves" to pin-point where, exactly, his world came crashing down. And drink. He'd turned to a cheap bottle of vodka – it was the only thing left in his liquor cabinet and he couldn't bring himself to walk the block and a half to the 24-hour liquor store on the corner. He knew it was a tragic break-up scene, one he'd mock if it hadn't been his own life.
Rejection was certainly a tough pill to swallow even if Denise hadn't been the first girl to reject him. No, that honor went to the girl who was also responsible for his current heartache, this gut wrenching hurt. Rory had made her choice, though and she chose the perfect-haired, all-American frat boy as her knight in shining armor. And he'd done nothing to stop her, he let her do it and now he'd have to let it go. Rory was gone, out of his life.
Finally, almost nine months after he'd asked that question – the one that kicked off this whole mess – he would have to give up and say goodbye to the idea of getting back together with her.
And that was the toughest pill to swallow.
Logan shook his head and rolled his eyes, mildly disgusted by his melodramatic self-pity but not so put off to undertake steps to fix this situation. Instead, he propped himself up on the pillows and poured himself another shot of vodka. The TV's soft blue glow caught his attention and he noticed it was an old episode of Ricki Lake.
A wry smile played tugged at his lips as he realized how his current situation had all the fixings for a juicy episode of a mediocre daytime talk show.
Before he could turn up the volume to determine if these poor saps on T.V. were worse off, his phone buzzed. Logan briefly contemplated letting it go to voicemail, but he didn't.
Calling a cab and sticking a break-up note in a porch-screened door didn't equal a great breakaway plan, Rory knew that much. She'd been in the backseat of a stale-smelling cab for an hour and a half and she had know clue where to take her newfound freedom.
"Ma'am?" the cab driver asked with a hopeful smile. Sure, the meter was running, but Rory could tell he was growing impatient. "Where are we headed?"
The million dollar question. The question she'd been avoiding every since she'd gotten into the cab and told him to drive circles around the small town next to Owens. Far away enough from him, for now, but she needed a plan and fast.
"Could you just… I don't know… head North, or something?" Rory asked.
The driver snorted in disbelief, but turned on his signal and speed down the street, toward the highway, allowing Rory to return to her thoughts.
Calling her mother crossed her mind a few times, but she did not want to. Historically, relationships were the Achilles heel of their otherwise unbreakable bond. Other boyfriends certainly helped in making it a sticky situation to discuss, but her relationship with Logan was what really shook the mother-daughter bond to its core.
Not that Lorelai hadn't had her fair share of relationships gone awry, but Rory was certain Lorelai wouldn't understand this. Of course, it didn't help that Rory left her mother in the dark about Owen and the casual existence of their non-relationship-relationship, or about Logan and the e-mails, about Denise and Mexican food, or about Ben and peach waffles, but it was far to complicated to feed Lorelai the short script.
Rory had gotten herself into this mess and she needed to fix it. She just needed to figure out how. Obviously, San Francisco crossed her mind but what would she do? Show up at his doorstep, only to have Denise open the door? At two in the morning that seemed like the perfect solution, but in the crisp dawn light it seemed ridiculous.
Frustrated, she dug her hands into her coat pocket and she immediately retracted her left hand as a sharp pain hit her finger. A paper cut! She held her index finger up to her eyes and squinted to examine her wound. Rory carefully extracted the offending piece of paper to see what caused her injury.
It was a card for Rothschild Premier Hotels and Finn's number was written neatly on the back. "Call me any time" he told her. She stole a peak at her watch; 6:25 a.m. Rory stared at the number again, before reaching for her purse and pulling out her phone. Any time he said, any time.
It took four or five rings, but Finn finally picked up.
"Hello?" his groggy morning voice greeted her. Under normal circumstances she would have broken out in a ramble, but the sound of his voice left her speechless. Maybe it was the early hour, maybe the intensity of skipping town finally hit her, or maybe she was just relieved to have at least one person to confide in.
"Hello?" Finn asked again, before becoming frustrated. "I don't know who you are, but look here, it's bloody 6:30 in the morning…"
"No, don't hang up, Finn…" she sputtered and his tone softened immediately. "Love?"
A small sigh of relief escaped her, before she started to talk. "Hey Finn."
"Where are you, Rory? What's going on? Did something happen?"
The smallest smile played at her lips at Finn's concerned tone. "I'm in a cab."
"Where?" he demanded.
"Texas. Around Houston somewhere."
"Rory…" An alarmed Finn drew out. She needn't clarify; he was able to put the pieces together but he asked anyway. "What happened?"
She knew he was going to ask that question and he deserved an answer; after all, she'd called him at this ungodly hour. "I am.. I was on a retreat with Owen…"
Finn picked up on the pain in her tone, and worried that the frat boy had hurt her. "And where the fuck is he now?"
"At his house…" Rory inhaled deeply, blinking back a few stray tears, before revealing all. "I left, Finn. I…he… God… he said he loved me, Finn."
"I take it the e-mails weren't just for closure?"
She could appreciate Finn's straightforwardness. "No," she replied, matching his tone. "I left Owen a note and called a cab."
"Right, okay. Let Finny think." He paused for a moment. "Where are you, precisely, love?"
"I don't know."
"Ask the driver," he instructed lightly.
"Okay." Rory pulled the phone away from her ear a little. "Excuse me, where are we?"
"Interstate 610 – looping around the city. Kind of in a holding pattern, awaiting further instruction…"
Rory ignored the slightly snappy tone of her cabbie and turned conversation back to Finn. "Did you get that?"
"Yeah. Tell 'm to take you to the airport – we've got a hotel there, just tell the manager who you are and they'll take care of you until I'm there."
"Until you are here?"
"I'm in New Orleans now," Finn clarified, "let me just change a few meetings around and I'll be there in a couple of hours."
"Oh Finn no, you don't have to do that."
"Love…" - she could practically see the wistful smile on his face - "I want to. See you in a bit."
"Huntzberger," he grunted into the phone, obviously not in the mood for chit-chat.
"Mate, it's Finn."
"Hey."
The line remained quiet, neither boy quite knowing what to say. In his mix of emotions, Logan still felt a tiny bit of anger toward Finn – his best friend should not have walked out of the bar to chase her. Friends first and all, right?
"Look, I'm sorry about how my visit ended, mate," Finn said sincerely. "It wasn't intentional and the whole night scored remarkably high in terms of awkwardness. You and that girl, and Rory and that guy. I just… I just wanted to see if you're alright…"
Logan let out a deep sigh and the anger ebbed from his body. "Don't worry about it, man. It was just a bad night all-around."
"Yeah…" Finn started, but Logan interjected, suddenly very glad that Finn called.
"We broke up. Denise and I," he offered voluntarily, "broke up."
This information didn't shock him, but for the sake of his friend he feigned it.
"Yeah, she with me, actually," Logan said sounding detached, "tossed her keys right in a bowl of Alfredo. Slam dunk. Buh-bye."
"Wow," Finn let out a surprised chuckle. "I don't know whether to congratulate you, apologize or report a case of domestic violence…" He paused, turning more serious. "You sound like shit."
Logan sighed, dropping his guard. "I feel like shit."
"She was just a girl, mate," Finn said, "you can't let her get to you…Besides, the only reason I introduced her to you was because she was a guarantee. A quick fuck, one to get you back in the game. How the hell was I to know you'd keep her around for eight months? Who keeps the rebound girl?"
"I wasn't going to. She was just…"
"…there."
"And I thought she'd be…"
"…different."
"But she wasn't…"
"… her."
"And now…"
"Your life is like a country song," Finn laughed at his joke.
"A country song?" Logan said in surprise, "I thought you only listened to trendy Euro-pop?"
"I'm in Texas, mate. Got to blend with the locals."
"Texas?" Logan never kept track of his friend's travels, but Texas seemed a little out of the way for Finn.
"If heartache were wine, you'd be drunk all the time," Finn quipped.
Logan snorted, "More like vodka."
"Whatever works, mate, whatever works."
A moment of silence past between the boys, before Finn spoke up again. "So, I'm assuming you'll be looking for a new place of residence?"
"Yeah, I'm going to have to."
"A realtors dream is what you are, mate," Finn laughed, "in the meantime, why don't you check into a room at the Rothschild City Suites downtown?"
"Finn…" Logan said in a warning tone – he didn't need help.
"There is only so much wallowing I can allow, only so much I can be responsible for. Last time I arranged a date…"
"…and look where that landed me!" Logan threw his hands up to emphasis his point, even though Finn couldn't see them.
"This is what I'm saying," Finn nodded, acknowledging Logan's tragic situation, "it's the least I can do."
Logan remained quiet, contemplating the offer.
"Oh, come on, some room service, clean sheets and a hot shower will do you good..."
The offer was tempting. A chance of scenery might do him good, but still, it would require some clean sweats and the actual trip outside to get there. "I don't know, Finn…"
"I'll call Colin and he can fill you in on the dynamics of his relationship to Stephanie. Two words: couples yoga."
That almost made Logan laugh. "Shit. Not couples yoga. Fine, I'll take the room."
"Excellent. I'll call to make the arrangements."
"Hey Finn?" Logan asked quickly, before Finn hung up.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
Finn had never actually visited a Rothschild Airport Hotel before. If he travelled, he never stayed in airport hotels. He rarely had to since his family owned a lot of real estate. On the off chance he had to stay in a for-the-masses-accommodation it was luxury suites all the way.
Nevertheless, these Rothschild Airport Hotels were kind of nice, what with their quasi-European design and trendy neon-green-and-turquoise blue motif.
"Miss Gilmore's room, please," Finn said as he approached the front desk.
"Sir, it's not our policy to…" she started off in monotonously, before she realized who had made the request. "Oh my gosh, Mr. Rothschild. I'm so sorry…"
"No worries, I'll just be needing the key."
"Of course, Mr. Rothschild," she replied nervously as she scrambled to make a second keycard, "she's in the Grand Suite – it's the best room we have."
Finn tapped the door lightly, feeling a little anxious as to what the other side of the door would reveal.
A few seconds later she opened the door and she enveloped him in a big hug. "You came," she muffled into his chest and he let out a soft chuckle. "Of course I did, love."
Rory pulled out of the embrace to look him in the eye. "Thank-you."
Finn shot her a soft smile and noticed that she looked pretty haggard. Lack of sleep, sure, but it was clear that finding the love of her life with someone else and writing break-up notes to practically perfect boys had left their mark.
"You look like you need a drink," Finn told her, "a really strong one."
Rory cracked a smile. "How 'bout a strong coffee instead?"
Hours later, they were surrounded by coffee mugs and half-eaten plates of various room-services meals. Finn had kicked-off his shoes and undid his tie as he lay horizontally across the bed. Rory leaned against a mountain of pillows, propped up against the head board and rested her toes touched Finn's knees. They had discussed everything, from the rejected proposal, to Owen's half-truths, the awful Mexican dinner and Audrey's romantic past. It was a lot to digest, but Finn was handling it well, letting Rory ramble and rant, getting everything off her chest.
"…and why her? The Bob? You know I dreamt about them getting married? Emily said it was my fault – that my feminist ideals got in the way."
This caught Finn's attention. "Your what?"
But she wasn't listening to the confusion in his voice. "She wore a white dress..." Rory shook her head, "as if."
"Love…"
"What?"
"It's a dream," Finn said firmly, trying to nip this rant in the bud. He wanted to shout that Denise and Logan had long since broken up, but he couldn't – that wasn't his place.
"That could be reality," Rory retorted, "you saw how happy they looked at dinner."
"You and I have very, very different definitions of happy," Finn shot back through a light laugh, but Rory wasn't amused.
"What the hell am I going to do, Finn?" Rory threw her hands up in despair. "Since when did I become the girl that got caught up like this? I'm freaking obsessed!"
"Who are we talking about? Owen or Logan?" Finn wanted to know.
"Logan," Rory answered immediately, as if it were obvious.
"There's your answer, then, love. You're caught up in him. You still love him. You should tell him what you've been telling me."
Rory nodded slowly. "I know." It wasn't clear if she was answering to Finn's first observation, or his second, but it was true regardless.
"So what are the plans?"
Rory rolled over and hid her face in the pillows. It may have been true, it was something immensely difficult – and scary – to grasp. Right now, she had nothing. Her career was out the window, she broke Owen's heart and Logan was one big shade of gray. "Stay in this hotel room forever. I'm sure you can arrange something."
"Love!"
"Finn!" Rory shouted, "He's with Denise – he's happy!"
"Trust me on this, Rory, he's not."
This changed things. "He isn't?"
Finn shook his head. "Look, I can't tell you what to do, but it's so obvious you are mad about him. Mad enough to rack up a 500 dollar cab bill, just to get away from Owen. Mad enough to let Logan go, because you think would've been happy with that trollop."
"Would have been?" Rory asked as her eyes went wide. "Would have been?"
Finn ignored her question as he continued. "Now you can sit her and weigh your options forever or you can…"
"What do you mean 'would have been', Finn?" Rory demanded as she scooted off the bed. "Did they break up? Did something happen? Is he okay?" Her tone changed from eager hope to concern as her questioning progressed, but Finn was reluctant to answer.
"Love… it's not my place… I can't."
"Finn!"
"All I can say is call him." Finn held out his phone for her to take, but Rory had other plans as she started throwing items back into her purse.
"What are you doing?" he wanted to know.
"Going to San Francisco." Rory's mind was made up. This was her plan. She'd regret it forever if she didn't go. "I have to see him. You are right. I should be telling him this – obviously there are things he needs to tell me."
Finn's lips pulled into a happy smile. Now that was the result he had been hoping for. "Lucky for you, love, I've arranged a jet."
IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
She's going to see Logan!
I'm excited!
Please review if you are too!
:-)