A/N: Thank you for the amazing birthday wishes and support of this story in general. I really, really hope you guys like this chapter. Thanks for reading as always, let me know your thoughts!
"Montez!" barked Frank as he thundered past her desk, which seated a very focused Gabriella intently typing at her computer.
Sighing with slight annoyance, her dark eyes shifted from her article and glanced up to see the center part upon his head was extra shiny under the lights of the news room that day. His cheeks were rosy with a shimmer of some emotion that was at first unrecognizable as she tilted her head with scrutiny. Rubbing her eyes and smearing her make up slightly, she sent him the best suck up smile she could muster – which looked more like a murderous clown than a meaningful grin, "Yes Frank?" She asked with her teeth slightly gritted and her patience running thin.
"I want you in my office." He ordered. His voice was gruff at the edges and just as impatient as hers.
This was extremely irritating – she had less than an hour and a half to type up an article that Thursday afternoon. Unlike most days, there was no chance of her staying late due to her busy schedule that night. Therefore, pulling herself away from her work was excruciating and didn't seem as though it could be an option at that moment. Instead of rising as he wished, Gabriella glanced down at her notes one more time before pleading with her irises, "Let me just finish this up and then I'll head in there…"
"You have two minutes to get your tiny ass into my office," Frank ordered, clearly not in the mood for negotiation, with his sausage fingers pointing towards the clock, "starting now."
"Somebody's angry." An unexpected voice chimed behind her, Gabriella turned around to be greeted with two gray eyes and a beaming Rebecca as she sat swinging her heels beneath the desk she was stationed at. Ever since Gabriella was promoted to a story that hadn't required Rebecca's services as a mentor, the woman had taken matters into her own hands and decided to keep a closer eye on the intern. Frank, obviously, hadn't noticed when Rebecca was spending more time around her desk which was just behind hers. This put a damper on her days, for the hawk-like eyes surveying her every move forced the normal opportunities of when she bounced ideas off of Jason to a minimal.
With a pout, Gabriella saved her document and then closed down the program. She straightened out her blouse with a shrug and mentally calculated how long she could linger there without Frank popping his already stretched buttons, "I'm sure he just wants to talk to me about leaving tomorrow or something." Gabriella replied with a smile fighting to reveal itself at the thought of the plane ride she'd be catching early in the morning.
Rebecca, despite Gabriella's calmness, seemed to have other ideas, "Yesterday Frank brought Evelyn in his office and told her if she didn't pick up her shit and start writing movie reviews instead of swooning over Ashton Kutcher's abs, he'd fire her."
A wry smile crossed her face as she leaned forward, "Well it's a good thing I'm not a movie critic."
Appalled and offended, Rebecca dropped her jaw with her eyebrows furrowed tightly against her brow. Ignoring her, Gabriella swayed away with a swagger that proved she wasn't going to allow herself to be walked all over any longer. By far, she was one of the best writers at The Tribute and people were beginning to notice. Yes, she was still an intern, but the respect she received from the other employees jumped to the level of bowing their heads if they were in line to receive their morning coffee instead of completely ignoring her. It was most likely that the entire news room would have a belief that she had Dissociative Identity Disorder as revenge for her snarky comment towards her mentor, but by now Gabriella could have cared less.
Winding through her now-familiar path towards Frank's headquarters, Gabriella smiled politely at the other reporters who didn't seem to notice her. When she reached the main aisle, she felt the presence of someone behind her. Twirling around, she caught sight of Jason and a stack of photographs teetering in his arms. His eyebrows wiggled in recognition when he locked eyes with her, a smirk drawing upon his face, "Hey babe!"
Gabriella giggled at his struggles, "Having trouble?" She asked, though her gaze lingered on the clock for a moment to notice she had less than thirty seconds to take five strides until her deadline was up.
"Shut up and help me." He snapped, his black bangs hiding his line of vision.
She shook her head, her curls tossing every which way, "Can't. Frank wants me in his office or else it's my head."
Jason snorted, "Maybe he's giving you condoms for your little honeymoon with murder boy."
Olive skin flushing red, Gabriella blushed profusely and considered tripping him so his photos would fly every which way. However, she managed to contain herself while sticking her tongue out at her friend, "One, how many times do I have to tell you, he's not a murderer. Two, we're going to his parents house, so no honeymoon activities there. And three… ew." She scrunched her nose at the thought of her large boss sliding over a tiny package from his messy desk. She shuttered.
"I won't rule it out until we know for sure." Jason responded, blowing his hair upwards and out of his coal colored eyes, "He's good at playing ninja at court cases."
Gabriella frowned, the incident at the Douglas case had been driving her up the wall for the past two and a half weeks since it happened. As much as she had to convince herself she had merely imagined his voice due to the lack of sleep that week, something in the back of her mind kept poking around that it was not a hallucination. His voice had been as crystal as she was speaking with Jason at that moment. Once arriving home that night, she indirectly interrogated him about his whereabouts for the day. Troy had casually listed his attendance in class and then work, ending the night with practice with the Warriors. It was frustrating, but no matter how hard she pressed, Troy remained calm and collected – thought slightly perplexed at why she had such an interest for his daily activities.
"If you say he fucking murdered Emily again, I will make sure you wake up tomorrow with no dick." she hissed before finally turning around and almost running into another coworker, "Sorry!" Her call went unnoticed by Jason's obnoxious laughing at her failed attempt of walking. She mentally cursed at Jason before placing her hand on the door leading to the office.
She entered the room to what she had expected – Frank seated in the useless space of a chair and his face stern. The creases upon his chubby forehead made large indents, making him appear ten years older than what he really was. A ring shined under the lighting, reflecting the rubies and golds that gave the room a royal appeal. However, there was something different in the aurora of the room. The lamp in the corner, the picture frames without photographs inside, the first framed article he had published: Like there was something missed placed.
"Erm… sir?" Gabriella asked awkwardly and impatiently – her article on a recall of birth control was waiting on her computer and she only wanted to be within the walls for a little as possible, "You uh… wanted to see me?"
Frank leaned backwards, almost causing the chair to topple backwards with his weight. He recovered enough to fold his hands together and rest on his stomach, eyeing her slowly. Gabriella felt slightly uncomfortable with his scrutiny, there was something peculiar about the way he was watching her closely with the furry puppies for eyebrows scrunched together. Cringing slightly, Gabriella wrapped both arms around her taught stomach, which was covered by a powdered blue top that accentuated her natural curves.
"Tell me Montez, do you know who Jeremy Allen is?" Frank asked, his black eyes flickering somewhere in the corner of the room. Gabriella resisted the temptation to turn around – her boss's stare was penetrating.
At first, she thought it was a trick question; but the way Frank glared at her was enough to prove that this was anything but funny, "One of the subeditors of The Los Angeles Times?" She stated with a rise in her voice that sounded like a question.
This caused Frank to raise one of his puppies – or rather eyebrows. She shivered slightly, not sure if he was angered by her knowledge or not, "What's your opinion on him?"
Gabriella's mind reeled over the pages and pages she shifted through in college, searching in the deep locker of her experience at Boston University. Distantly, she remembered the name pop up every so often with controversial articles that arose monsters in republicans, "He's a liberal… talented with his words but doesn't take into account of the other side of the coin. Seeing the opposition is what makes a good journalist." She responded with a shrug that finally made Frank flicker a grin. Only for a millisecond.
"So you're not a fan?" Frank's gruff voice was hopeful.
She shook her head, shivering with her arms crossed yet, "No, I think he's a fantastic writer, he just needs to open his eyes a bit more."
"Girl's got an opinion. I like it."
The soft voice hummed from the corner of the room, making Gabriella whirl on the balls of her shoes and took sight of a man stepping from the shadows that drew beside the filtered shades. Reflexively, her heart pounded wildly in surprise which caused her to immediately unwind her arms and press her hand against her chest to steady the pitter patter of her breath. His rugged, curly hair shined as he entered the light – his eyes blazed bright blue as he looked upon her like a teacher gazing at his star pupil. After calming herself, Gabriella awkwardly shifted her gaze yet managed to keep him in her line of vision. Frank didn't seem to think it was bizarre for this strange man to be in his office, instead he rolled forward again with his knuckles tainted white.
"Montez, meet Jeremy Allan." Frank practically seethed.
Gabriella's mouth hung open stupidly as Jeremy chuckled a charming laugh. She immediately felt a blush rush upon her cheeks with mortification at her words, "Mr. Allan! My God, I'm…"
"…exactly as I imagined the person I've been reading for the past two months." he beamed, holding out his hand and Gabriella immediately shook it, star struck, "Gabriella, right?"
She nodded with trembling fingers she clasped behind her back to keep from embarrassment again, teetering on her toes to contain her excitement she was standing before someone so elite, "I'm really sorry Mr. Allan."
"For what? Having an opinion?" He asked, folding his arms over the front of his leather jacket and leaned against Frank's desk as though it were simply a counter.
It was then that Gabriella finally took him fully in. By the lines growing from the corners of his tear ducts, she could tell he had seen too much for his young age of mid thirties. With his hair that flopped lower than Jason's, he had an aurora of rebellion and humor. There was an allure to him, given he was relatively attractive but by no means worthy of comparison to anyone like Troy. Thin muscles popped from his arms by age, though he wasn't bulky enough to be considered buff. The most appealing feature was his smile: bright white with the tips of his lips curling towards the ceiling with mischief.
Gabriella shrugged, "I didn't mean to insult you."
Smiling again, Jeremy raised his bushy eyebrows, "If you think that's an insult, you should read my critics."
In the case that he believed she was a stalker, Gabriella didn't want to admit she had in one of her classes. Instead, she took to looking down at her brown flats and tried to come up with the most logical explanation for why a writer with Jeremy's status would know her by full name. Unsteadily, her breath came in short spasms and the excitement in her chest began to bubble in giant pops. Frank seemed to notice – for her coughed obnoxiously to prove that he was disapproving of her lacking response towards the journalist. In contrast, Jeremy was bemused by the flush adoring her cheeks and trailed his bumpy hand over the surface of the darkened wood.
She assumed there was some sort of plot behind his unexpected arrival, therefore she looked back up at him with curiosity pulling at her temples, "Montez, take a seat." Frank instructed after a moment of heavy silence.
"We should get some coffee," Jeremy randomly suggested, clearly used to the speedy pace that was occurring just behind the blinds, "You want some coffee?" He acknowledged Gabriella, who quickly shook her head. It was already into the afternoon and she would most likely not sleep due to pre-flight nerves anyways – adding coffee would only be detrimental to her anticipation of interrupted sleep.
"No, thank you." She declined politely.
Jeremy pushed off and strode over to the corner he had been in moments before, Gabriella know noticed that Frank's personal coffee machine was fired up and steaming a thick sent of java. She watched him pull at the brown belt of his jeans before pouring himself a cup, "Frank?" He asked, which was replied with a grunt, "What was that?"
The mind of a profiler was working in overdrive: handsome, witty, coconscious. His appearance, however, didn't fit. By the way he dressed; he didn't seem to care about the money that he racked in daily - though Gabriella also considered this was to please her. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off with expensive clothes to flash while walking through the small doors to The Tribute. It was clear that the smile wasn't intended to woo her or flirt; his eyes twinkled in a way that did not reflect lust. The coffee he had offered, it was a peace offering. There was nothing cynical about his stance – his hips were turned to her that he had full interest. These subtleties that would normally go overlooked clearly pointed in one direction of why he had traveled thousands and thousands of miles to see a lowly intern…
… He had a proposition.
Instinctively, her heart hammered wildly against her chest as she watched him perch on the edge of Frank's desk once again, "You're from my side of the country, how's New York treating you?" He asked while easing back, taking a long sip from the navy mug. Two holes were burning into the side of her head as a result of the deathly lasers coming from Frank.
"It's um," Gabriella sucked in a hot breath to keep her voice from rattling, "It's an adjustment… but I've been successful,"
Jeremy chuckled with a nod, "I can definitely see that," his eyes averted straight ahead of him as he brought the ceramic to his lips again, "You know, about eight weeks ago," he smacked his lips together, "one of my leading journalists threw a really thin newspaper on my desk…"
Another disapproving cough from Frank, "Oh?" Gabriella asked, curious as to why The Los Angeles Times would have taken interest in their little paper.
"Apparently, an intern cracked the story of Daniel Adam's affair and got an inside look into the mind of his whore," he said with another proud grin. Gabriella felt a surge of triumph in her own veins, the butterflies in her stomach fluttered wildly at his words, "And I'll tell yah, I was pissed that some twenty-three year old from Boston University managed to nail it before The New York Times did." He added emphasis to the paper.
Gabriella swallowed her tongue, feeling her throat close up, "I guess I was in the right place at the right time."
He wiggled his eyebrows, "Apparently you're just one lucky girl who's been in the right place for a senator heart attack, psycho schizophrenic being tossed in jail, and even had time to write about a Christmas parade in Brooklyn."
She didn't bother mentioning that it just so happened to be after Troy had early Saturday morning practice with the warriors and she was waiting outside for him, "You've been following me." Gabriella repeated, her trachea closing with every second that passed. None of this seemed possible, dreamlike instead of reality. This was impossible – one of the biggest newspaper editors was not talking to her right now, and about her work.
Jeremy placed his mug down and sent the full fury of his blue eyes upon her, "For the past eight weeks I've been watching your progression, your triumphs. Gabriella Montez, I'm impressed. I haven't seen such talent and drive for perfection in a long time," her heart was a tribal drum now as his words seemed to swirl around her, "And Frank's informed me that your internship is coming to a close, which leads me to why I'm here..." Frank stiffened in his chair, clearly not impressed with the way this conversation was taking a turn.
Gabriella, however, was breathless. On the edge of her seat, she leaned towards the man as if he was her messiah, "Yes?"
"Gabriella," Jeremy said simply, "I wanna discuss with you about accepting a position at The Los Angeles Times."
Gabriella could remember the moment she found out she received the internship for The Tribute. She had been seated upon her couch with her legs tucked tightly beneath her and the latest best seller in her hands. After dropping the book when she answered the phone, her heart had started in rounds of rapid palpitations – she thought she was going to faint after the phone clicked shut on the other line. Immediately, she had squealed, which caused her neighbors to bang broomsticks on the walls in order to shush her. She hadn't been sure of what to do or who to call, so instead she left a burn mark in the tiny flat where her feet had dug into the depths of the carpet after her vicious pacing. It was surprising that she hadn't fallen through the floorboards in her wake.
Much like she was doing on the sidewalk that afternoon.
"Gabriella! Gabriella, you need to breathe…." Jason coached while watching her march from side to side with her eyes big and fearful.
Gabriella whirled around, her face hot despite the frosty air and her eyes black with fright, "Breathe, Jason? Breathe? How do you expect me to focus on breathing when I was just offered a job at the fucking Los Angeles Times?" The panic in her voice leaked with each syllable spoken. Her pants came in large puffs of clouds while people walked about their days on the sidewalk perpendicular to the ally they occupied. Little was comforting, even with the bright sunshine filtering through the shadows of home of The Tribute beside them.
Jason leaned forward, catching her in her path and placed his hands upon her shoulders to soothe her. It didn't seem to be working, for Gabriella just looked passed him in the sunlight that teased the New Yorkers of warmer days. To rectify this, Jason cupped her cheeks in a not so intimate way that forced her to look up at him, "Gabriella. You should be happy, not having a nervous breakdown. The LA Times looked for you, babe. They want you…" His words made her dizzy and the world around her began to spin. Thankfully, Jason had a tight hold to keep her from crashing to the ground.
"It's not possible," Gabriella said with her long hair flowing to mask her face that cast down, "This isn't real."
His arm slung around her shoulder in a comforting way, "Gabriella… this is real. You're the best writer here. I'm surprised they haven't come earlier."
Gabriella gazed up at him through her thick lashes and smiled with gratitude, "Thank you," she paused, taking a breath to steady herself, "Frank's pissed."
His dark eyebrows furrowed as he let her go and leaned against the gray brick of the building, "Why? I thought he'd gloat."
She felt slightly uncomfortable admitting the talent she held, so she awkwardly shrugged her shoulders, "He uh… he offered me a job here if I suddenly became insane and wanted to stay here instead."
"Who knew?" he chuckled, an illumination still glittering in his eyes, "So… when do we pack your bags?" Jason asked, rubbing his hands together eagerly – or to create heat.
It was then that Gabriella stared down at her fingers and began to play with them. She couldn't face Jason, no matter how many times she replayed her confession in her head, this wasn't going to be easy. For a long moment, she remained silent with no intention of breakage. Jason curiously looked at her, with both perplexity and concern. When the words came out, they were slow and quiet – too afraid to admit, "We don't start packing anything, yet. I haven't said yes."
With his mouth agape and his dark eyes widened in horror, Jason nearly turned white at her confessional. She wasn't sure if this was due to the shock or the disappointment, but either way it made her take a step back in wary just in case he might explode. Instead, however, Jason shook his black mop and took her shoulders again to amplify the intensity of his stare, "What the fuck are you smoking Montez? This is The Los Angeles Times we're talking about. Of course you'll damn well say yes, so stop pulling my dick. You've wanted this since you first stepped through those goddamn doors." It was one of the few times his voice was seriously dangerous, and it frightened her slightly.
"I know, Jason. I know," she sighed, her tone desperate, "I know this is huge."
"Then why the fuck do you not know?" He snapped back, clearly frustrated by her indecision.
Gabriella swallowed and took a deep breath. The sun drew a long shadow beneath her nose and onto the wool material of her coat, but no warmth accompanied it. She looked up at him with the most conviction she could muster, "I moved from Boston six months ago Jase… I've finally established myself in the New York setting. Writers from The New York Times knew my name at the Douglas trial… packing up and leaving again in less than a year?"
"This is the chance of a lifetime, Gabriella." He said darkly.
She pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead, "If I'm really as good you say I am Jase, there will be other chances. But I've made friends here… I can't just leave now after finally being settled."
"Gabriella, you have to go." Jason pleaded with her. Clouds of carbon dioxide swirled around her with every breath puffed.
She gazed up at him through her long lashes, "I'm happy here Jason," she whispered as she placed her hand on his chest and smoothed out the seam, "If I need anything I can always knock on the door across the hallway, if I'm in the mood for splurging on clothes I can call up Sharpay, I know my best friend will always be around if I need him," he smiled sadly while Gabriella bit her lip, "And I'm in love with someone I don't think I can live without anymore. I can't imagine leaving all that behind."
Again, Jason shook his head but placed a hand on top of hers in support, "Bolton's going to be on my side."
"Which is exactly why you need to keep your mouth shut and not tell him." Gabriella instructed firmly, a cold chill ran up her spine.
He let out an annoyed sigh, "Gabriella, you have to tell him."
"Jeremy is giving me two weeks to think about it, when my internship ends," Gabriella explained steadily, "If I decide yes, I fly out to LA on that Monday. If I say no, Frank gets to keep me and I start full time that day."
"You have to just…"
She finally let go of his jacket and stepped back, careful not to stumble over rock in the process, "The only thing I have to do is hop on a plane tomorrow morning with my boyfriend and enjoy the weekend with his parents. I'm going to try to impress them and keep from getting arrested in the airport for bringing a liquid more than three ounces. I'm going to enjoy myself and not tell Troy about this until I've figured it out, got it?"
Her arms folded with finality when she finished. Jason opened his mouth one more time, but shook his head after deciding against it, knowing she wouldn't budge. With a last shrug, Jason turned to her and said darkly, "It's your funeral."
The luggage was packed. The tickets rested upon his counter. The alarm was set.
Now all he had to do was wait.
"I'm telling yah, this guy was like, nine feet tall and had a giant shark on his arm," Jason explained as he tightened his grip on the brunette that stood beside him with her apron tied tightly around her tiny waist, "I thought he was going to eat me."
On the couch in the dim lighting, Troy chuckled as he felt Gabriella's head peaked from around the protection of his bicep and glared at her friend with a shake of her head, "Jase, the guy was five nine and had a sticker of a goldfish his daughter stamped on him before he left for work." She teased, rolling her coffee eyes and settling back into the curve of his chest.
"You're a buzz kill, I hope you know that." Jason stuck out his tongue just in time for Gabriella to flip him off, receiving a roar of laughter from the group surrounding them.
Troy had returned from his practice with The Warriors to find a slightly frantic Gabriella and her face dug into the depths of his closet to see if she had left her favorite cardigan with his jumbles of running and basketball sneakers. Her hair had been frazzled and her eyes wide with a panicked expression, one he hadn't expected from someone who had flown before. It had taken him several minutes to calm her down after her sat her upon the bed and promised her they'd find it. She blamed her bizarre behavior on the airline nerves, but Troy watched her eyes dart rapidly around the bedroom with curiosity until she finally realized she had left it draped over her bed at her own apartment. It was then that Troy realized he needed to distract her from her hesitations and decided to call up Chad and Taylor. Quickly, Jason, Zeke and Sharpay joined in the party as they arrived at the coffee house to listen to an early hour of Angie and Kelsi play, and were now gathered in the dim lighting.
Gabriella shrugged, "The truth is my job, remember?" She reminded him playfully.
Jason, however, did not match her grin. Immediately, Troy noticed the tense exchange between them and mentally stored it for further questioning. Their eyes never left each other and it brought a slight discomfort to bubble in his core, "I remember alright. Just wanna make sure you do."
Quickly, Gabriella ducked back into his shoulder and pressed an unexpected kiss to his sweatshirt. Smiling to himself, Troy looked over her head to see Taylor checking her watch from the opposite end of the furniture, "What time do you have to leave again?"
"The plane leaves at eight." Troy casually replied, meeting Gabriella's eyes with a bright smile to prove his excitement, "Think you can get up that early?"
Gabriella giggled, "I'll manage. You start snoring at 5:30 anyways, so I'll be up."
"Ugh, too much information." Chad stuck his tongue out as though he was disgusted by Gabriella's words.
The easiness of their conversations, however, quickly dissipated when the door to the coffee shop rung. It was bizarre that someone would enter when the shop was barren due to the late hour of the evening, but Troy didn't have to guess who it was when he suddenly heard a venomous mutter from a large chair across the way, "What the fuck is she doing here?"
Simultaneously, Troy and Gabriella whipped their heads around to see Alicia lingering towards the door with an awkward stance. Their eyebrows both narrowed, completely perplexed by who had invited her to the outing. Again, in sync, Troy and Gabriella looked at each other with confusion. She raised her brow to question him if he had called her, but Troy jerked his head in a shake and surveyed their friends to see who the perpetrator was. When Taylor smiled warmly with a wave, it was clear who had committed the crime – even if Chad pointed towards his girlfriend and mumbled, "Shoot her, not me."
He felt a nudge in his side that made him turn back to Gabriella. She had a small curl of a smile on her lips, not happy so much as accepting, "Go. I'll be here when you get back."
Troy thankfully nodded and wordlessly kissed her forehead, "I'll be right back." He whispered before detangling himself from her clutches.
"Get her the fuck out of here Bolton." Sharpay hissed, not even bothering to keep her voice down to be polite. This made him roll his eyes as he sent one last encouraging look towards Gabriella before weaving through the intricate maze of tables. The further he drew from his friends, the colder the air became while he approached the woman standing beside the door.
"Hey! You didn't tell me you were coming!" Troy greeted casually, revealing neither if he was happy or upset by her presence.
Alicia simply shrugged, her chestnut hair was twisted into an intricate do and he finally noticed her black cage heels – far too dressed up for a simple meeting at the coffee house, "Tay invited me, but Angie and the boy are going out for drinks and asked me to go yesterday. But I wanted to stop by and wish you and Gabriella off."
When she said his girlfriend's name, she glanced over his shoulder and sent a skeptical Gabriella a stiff wave. In response, Gabriella gave the worst impression of happiness back with a wave of her hand as well – Sharpay would have been disappointed with her acting skills if she didn't hate Alicia so much. He grinned softly at his best friend and glanced down at his vintage Converses, "Thanks. It's only gonna be a few days."
"I know, but it's exciting." Alicia's voice was like metal, robotic as she looked up at him with glistening green eyes, "Say hi to Jack and Lucille for me."
He nodded, "I will."
In true best friend fashion, Troy enclosed her in a tight squeeze. The back of his neck was burning with Gabriella's glare, but he ignored it and knew that she was doing her best to remain civil. As he turned his head, his nose found the crevice in the strands of her straight hair pulled back. The scent of lavender filled his nostrils – a scent that always accompanied her. He couldn't explain the reason for their prolonged hug, but Troy gripped tightly before Alicia finally pulled away with a wry smile and glossy eyes before she finally took a step back and whispered, "Goodbye Troy."
Slowly, he watched her turn towards the door once again and walked into the unforgiving night.