Chapter 54 - May 2015

"Why are we here again?"

Rory didn't usually enjoy uppity restaurants, and The Odeon was apparently one of that kind. She had spotted HarperCollins vice-president and a clothing designer that she couldn't remember the name. Yep, it was a hip joint.

"Don't know, Logan picked the place, he was there for business two days ago and said we had to try it," Robert answered nodding to the waiter who finished pouring the wine.

"Maybe Logan wants to impress Odette," Rory said in a bitchy tone unusual for her.

Robert frowned. "Why are you so edgy?" He pushed the glass of wine toward her, "try this."

She swirled the wine, sniffed then took a gulp and closed her eyes. The corner of his mouth tilted up. Over the time, Robert had rubbed off his love for the grape elixir on her. They had reacquainted with what had brought them together when they were roommates. Back then, they always shared their love for books, music, movies. They were from the same generation, but probably because he was raised abroad, they didn't have the same pop culture references.

Since they got back together, just by watching him, she had slowly learned to appreciate wine more than the occasional beverage to get buzzed. To the contrary of what her mother had implied at the beginning, he'd never tried to influence her, to fit her into a mold of the perfect wife. On the other hand, he had absorbed her way to see the world positively, lose the constant sarcasm, embraced things how they were without any judgment.

Rory finally smiled. "You know me so well. What's that?"

"Corton-Charlemagne, at least they serve good wine here. They also have Pinot Grigio. I know you girls think it's trendier."

"Robbie, you're so snobbish when it comes to wine," she put a peck on his cheek to sweeten the pot.

He shrugged. "Are you going to tell me why you're so crabby?" He put his hand on hers and gently stroke it with his thumb.

Rory was pissed; she still wasn't getting along with the marketing part of her job. She had another meeting where it was told that they'd better have good arguments if their authors didn't have at least 50 thousand followers in their social media.

"They also went on and on about how Pinterest was one of the primary traffic drivers to the websites, that Pinterest was essential to get hits to Amazon... How does it concern my authors? I'm doing non-fiction, that's for fiction I guess... But I got to hear that if we don't handle the website, we got to make sure that the authors' website was built with Squarespace, blah blah blah."

She took a sip of her wine while Robert was staring at her trying not to smile. He loved how she was passionate, how there was absolutely no distance between herself and her work.

"And let's not talk about Goodreads reviews... Since Amazon bought it, it's nothing from its formal role of helping indie writers."

"I thought that it was mostly for fiction?"

Robert totally got what she was saying, and that's why he'd let Lilian and Rodham take care of all the marketing. They had asked him if he wanted to get an agent that could manage his interests more independently, but he thought he was fine with Lilian as he didn't plan to write another book anytime soon. At least not with a non-academic publishing house anyway.

"Sorry guys I'm late, I'm straight out of the office, the conference call with California was endless." Logan put a peck on Rory's cheek and patted Robert's back.

"It's okay; it's nice to see you, Logan. Where's Odette?"

"Still in Paris, she'll arrive just for the wedding, after handling the finals. You know these academics, nothing can tear them apart from their students."

The blond glanced at Robert who was smirking shaking his head.

"What with the face Rory, you're disappointed to see me? I thought she told Steph that she couldn't be there for the bachelorette party?"

"She did, but I thought you had the means that I don't to convince her. I like Odette."

"You're the first one to know that as good as you think I am, I'm still not able to convince a woman to leave her work for me."

"Don't pay attention, Rory is just upset by modern publishing," Robert diverted the discussion from Logan previous relationship with his girlfriend.

Logan smirked.

"Ace, you know damn well that a book doesn't only sell itself just because it's good."

"It should. I'm sick that there's so much attention on what's selling right now, who's BIG right now, what's trending," Rory retorted.

"Not everyone is like Rory Gilmore, and you know I'm saying that as a compliment. Besides your family, I'm your number two fan after Pr. Semple here, but not everyone needs books to be able to breathe as you do."

"Of course I know that, and I get that people read differently now, but that doesn't change that the essence is still in the content and not in the cover."

Logan's eyes brightened.

"I have an idea. Why don't you come work with us?"

"With your dad at Huntzberger Media?" Rory stared at Logan as if he had lost his mind.

"No, the company we're building with Hughes. I think we have almost convinced Odette to join us. See Ace, that's exactly why I need you to work for us. We have to jump into the wagon and advocate for the publishing of the Twenty-first century to be for every book lover."

"I'm trying for months to persuade her to go for her true calling, writing," Robert said.

"Really? You're so right, man. Ace, don't you miss writing?"

Rory didn't lift her gaze from the menu. It wasn't that she wouldn't like to write, she had thought about it a lot. The perfectionist in her was just scared she wouldn't meet her expectations, and theirs too. Diversion, that what she needed.

"Logan, why did you choose such a trendy place?"

Both guys smirked.

"Wait until you try their crème brûlée and then get back to me."

Rory thought she got out of the subject when the waiter came to take their order but it was without counting that she was dining with two stubborn guys.

"I've seen you write Ror; it's amazing how easily the words come to you," Logan complimented.

"After what we've just talked about, you two want me to be submitted to all that crap while I have an excellent job?"

"But in some way, it will be cathartic. You're holding in so much, even if you don't publish it, putting everything in words will be liberating. It would be good for you to be on both sides." Robert added.

"I'm always on the writer's side," she grumbled.

A man sat on the table next to them apologizing to the guy who had been seating there since Robert and Rory had arrived.

"Sorry I'm late Dave, Debbie and I couldn't decide between two stories. Oh! Logan, Hi! Are you back in New-York for good?"

Logan smiled.

"Nice to see you, David. Almost, I still have to convince my fiancée to leave Europe."

"Do you know Dave, our literary editor? Logan Huntzberger from Huntzberger Media, obviously."

"Nice to meet you, I think we've been bothering him with our discussion. Let me introduce you, Rory Gilmore here works at Rodham, and Robert Semple teaches political science at Columbia. This is.."

"David Remnick editor of the New Yorker," Robert cut off, shaking hands, "I loved your Obama biography."

"Thanks, in particular coming from an academic. They aren't my biggest fan of this book."

Remnick frowned. "Wait. Semple? Aren't you the former White House advisor who's writing an Obama biography?"

"Guilty, it's pretty much done now."

"Congratulations, I can't wait to read it. So, you guys are all in the business, huh?"

"David, can I ask you how do you choose the fiction stories for the New-Yorker?" Logan asked glancing at Rory from the corner of his eye.

"Why? Are you interested, Logan? Your father told me that you used to be a terrific writer."

"He was excellent when he was there to take an assignment, I was his editor at Yale," Rory chuckled.

"I've never written any fiction, it's just out of curiosity," he smirked at Rory.

"Well, in principle, nowadays, anyone can send a story by email and the fiction team select them. But we receive a lot of stories, so it's quite a challenge to be noticed."

"We're trying to convince Rory to write again."

"I used to be a reporter," she said shyly.

"Don't be too modest Ace, she was the editor of the YDN, after that on the Obama campaign trail, and then wrote for the Boston Globe for a while where you even were deputy-editor."

"That doesn't mean I'm good at fiction writing," she said slightly irritated at Logan. She was uncomfortable at him pulling strings. David Remnick sensed the tension.

"I can't promise you anything, but if you want to give it a try, just send us your story. Anyway, we won't publish it if it isn't good, even if you're a friend of Logan. Deborah received around four hundred stories a week, we only publish fifty a year."

Robert noticed that Rory needed the conversation to switch.

"So, are you allowed to tell us what would be the major topics at the New Yorker Festival this year?"

Rory was relieved and gently squeezed her boyfriend's hand. He wasn't done yet pushing her writing, but he knew very well when to stop to give her some time, and the crème brûlée would do the rest.

Rory carefully broke the top of it with her spoon, which for her was the whole point of the French dessert and curved up the corners of her mouth.

The guys could relax now; she was back to happy and content Rory.

Robert strategy paid off. As soon as they were in bed that evening, Rory rested her head on his chest and swirled her finger with his hair.

"It's not that I don't want to write, I'm just scared that I won't be good at it."

He smiled and understood that she just needed a little pinch.

"What's the worst that could happen to you? Being a starving author? You know I've got your back, right? If you're so scared, you can write while still working, a lot of writers are doing that. Even if you quit your job, I'm sure you can find another one. Don't be afraid of the struggling, I know you can do it, of course, most people would never leap, but you're not most people. Isn't it worth it so that you can live your life like you always dreamed of?"

"I know you're right, but it's not that easy. I've been challenging myself with a new job to often since I graduated."

She sighed.

"Look how angry you are after your marketing meeting. You're exploring options, so what? It's not as if you failed anything; you were good at what you did for each job. Why not try to write what you like to write? You're starting to wrap yourself in bitterness. Do something before it'd seep inside you. It would be a pity don't you think?"

# # #

The following day, Rory came back home all excited. She found Robert in the kitchen fixing them dinner.

"I've been asked to edit my first fiction book!"

"Really? Did you ask to change department?"

"No, it's because is a roman à clef taking place during a campaign trail, as the author is actually a successful romance writer, they think that making it believable could widen her audience. She got her insights from her lover." Rory winked.

"Now I'm intrigued." Robert turned to her trying if he could convince her to spill the name of the mole.

"Nope, won't tell you who it is but I'm having a lot of fun!" She giggled.

"The novel, is it any good?"

"Not bad at all and I'm quite sure I identified some people."

She pulled two plates from the cupboard and started setting the table.

"Robbie, you're maybe right, I could give it a try."

Just like that, fate was coming to his rescue to deliver the final touch to convince her. She hadn't mentioned what she was talking about, but they both knew very well what she was referring to.

"Rory, who better than you for a quixotic attempt? The worst thing that could happen is that you'll self-publish or on a blog or Wattpad. Do you know how many writers started like that? See what happened to Anna Todd or JK Rowling. Harry Potter, the book was rejected by twelve publishing houses before being picked."

"What if nobody likes it?"

"Then you won't have any regrets because you'll know that you've tried but also where to start from to work on doing something better. Honestly, I really doubt that. You've written before."

"It was reporting," she retorted.

"But it was amazing, the way you put everything into words. Don't let the fear to fail to deter you from doing what you love. Try the positive attitude and stop thinking about failing before you've even given a shot. I thought you talked to Jess, what did he say?"

She winced.

"Not very far from what you're saying."

His mouth held a smirk, that was the reason she hadn't mention it. She didn't want to give him another argument.

He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her temple. After all these years, he still had this ability to turn her into a puddle of mush with his affectionate gestures and talks.

"You're the smartest girl I know, your intuition is always right, but you're always excusing yourself. I know you don't trust yourself, but you trust me, right? So, believe me when I say that you have to be more confident, free your intuition and let your fingers do the job, conveying what your amazing brain can pull off."

"You're right; I'm not a slacker. I can do hard things. Writing is tough. If it were easy, everyone would do it. Writing an entire novel is even harder, so maybe I'll try a short story for the New Yorker."

A/N: I'm grateful for the support of all the readers that are still there. I apologize for taking so long to update. All your reviews fill my heart with joy and fuel me to keep on writing.