A/N: Glad you're still into this! Even more excited to know you're re-reading and stumbling on clues. I've been sitting on this chapter for a while. Some of my favorite interactions to date.
It's my birthday and we've got to move the plot along... So you get this LONG treat. Don't get used to it ;)
Welcome to New York.
P.s. Someone asked about Rory's age- so Rory was born on 1986. In 2012 she's meant to be 26, when I do the math. But I'm better with words than math so...might have messed that up. Anyways her age is not really that important to the plot.
May 2013
Seattle
"Logan, who is Lorelai Gilmore?" Mitchum's voice thundered into the earpiece, making Logan's golf club fly out of his hands in mid-swing.
It was the last question he expected his father would open the call with.
Logan cringed as the inevitable crash. The office's glass wall shattered, sending glass everywhere. Shiri gawked at him, rattled. It's only luck she wasn't at her desk when the wall combusted.
In the other office, Ben jumped up, startled at the unexpected communion. 'What the fuck?' written all over his face.
Shreds of glass scattered on the carpet around the golf club. Shiri's heels stepped between the sparkling dust and picked up the stick.
He is never going to get the driver back.
"Logan? Are you there?" His father's voice questioned in his ear. He could imagine his dad moving paperwork around his desk, waiting for Logan to respond. Unaware of the reciprocation of his straightforward question.
"Yes." Logan turned his back on the disaster scene, rubbing his neck.
He'll deal with that later.
"The insurance guy called saying he keeps seeing multiple charges under that name on your health insurance."
Oh shit. When Logan put her name on the forms, he didn't think - in any way – that it goes through his father. The executive health insurance at HPG covered a lot more than the one they provided at current. He doubted Rory even looked at private insurance.
There was a long line of billings last month. Genetic kits, sperm counts, blood works, hormones prescriptions, treatment plan appointments, second opinions, and several tests with names so medical it involved the word vagina. Rory asked to do those alone, Logan made an exception and didn't argue.
They spent one whole Monday dinner arguing about the gender of the doctor instead. Logan won the agreement on male versus female doctors but lost the war.
The chosen doctor male was, according to Rory - hot.
"How does your Tuesday schedule looks like?" Logan eyed his schedule as he opened the browser to look up flights to New York. His mature bone was poking. "It's more of a face to face conversation."
One that Logan wasn't looking forwards to have. It's a discussion he'd prefer to push back as much as possible. He would have liked to present it as a done deal, not a transaction in the making.
"Okay. Tell Barbara-Ann to clear it. How long will you be staying?"
Ba ba ba ba Barbara Ann. Natalie will handle this. Logan could never concentrate beyond hello before the Beach Boy's song kicked in. He avoids talking to Mitchum's secretary.
"I won't." He could take the Monday's red-eye, swift through the office, blurt out his news, get chewed, and be back on the plane right in time for the doctor's appointment.
No available flights.
Logan rubbed his neck again. He'd have to see if he could move Monday dinner.
"Have you called your mother?" His father didn't probe. That was unnerving.
"She's on my list," Logan muttered.
"Logan," Mitchum warned lightly, "It's important for your mother that all family members attend my birthday party."
Logan felt the tingling discomfort in his spine when the call clicked off. It was almost like his father already knew.
~w~
"Topic number four: breastfeeding or bottle. Final conclusion – Logan's good with either." Rory made a note in the designated answer space and crossed out another topic off the list. She tore off one of the magazines in the doctor's office.
"No, I said, I think I'm not biologically able, so that an irrelevant question."
"Basically the same thing."
It wasn't. But whatever floats her boat.
Rory had color-coded folders sorted to different and issues: Per-conception, Fertility treatments, Pregnancy, Labor, First year of life, Milestones, Life philosophy, and his personal favorite: Childhood illness.
Obscene. The girl was thorough.
His head started to hurt each time she pulled them out. He thought dinning out would prevent her from extracting them – he was wrong.
"Okay next topic on the list."
"Can we not do this?"
"Do what?"
"Can we not do the check-list?" Logan rubbed his neck, "It's freakishly creepy. Can't we do it more organically?"
Each week another folder with a different name materialized. She was relentless. Logan didn't think they were enough colors in the world for this excessive labeling. When he dared questioned her method, he got a lecture about the utility of stickers.
She must have been a fun in college.
"Nothing about this is organic."
"Let's just eat dinner." He closed off and spun his fork in his spaghetti meal.
"Fine." She closed her notes with a huff.
"Fine."
~w~
June 2013
Rory Gilmore checked the time. Logan was taking longer than usual.
Rory still feels surreal every time she frequents the stylishly designed private practice. The waiting room looked like it came out of a lifestyle magazine: geometric pattern carpets, dark purple theme wall behind the reception desk. The rest of the design was semi-industrial, semi-natural. Coffee tables with thin metal legs and wooden tops. Comfortable waiting room chairs with wood legs and nice fabrics.
It smelled of effort not to look like a doctor's office, but like a family's living room—all those happy family pictures on the wall. No doctor's office she ever visited before looked this fancy. The clinic was designed to spell – success.
You get what you pay.
Rory assumed they paid a lot. She never asked. Logan never disclosed the full amount, as if he knew it would send her into a quivering jello mode.
They should be talking about money.
Rory hated the mention of money, and she blamed her mother for it. The photographer aimed her camera on the floor just for the heck of it playing with the focus setting. It was distracting.
"Can we switch?" Logan's shoes fell into the frame. She snaps the picture.
Logan never wants to sit on the yellow chairs.
Rory picked herself up and vacated the blue chair, moving to take a seat on the yellow one. They never talk about what Logan is doing in that side room. Honestly, she preferred not to think about it. She hoped he washed his hands after.
"Do you have any plans for the third weekend of June?" Logan asks semi-casually, the calendar app open on his phone. Rory notices it's crowded.
Rory stopped cleaning her camera lens and looked at him, trying to disguise her surprise. They never make plans apart to doctor appointments and their regular Monday nights in Seattle. Once, they grabbed coffee after the doctor's visit because Logan offered. Rory never says no to coffee.
They never plan ahead.
"I didn't plan that far." She asks nervously, "You take all those meetings?"
"I take the meetings I'm told to. So, there's a party in New York. My father's birthday party," his speech picks up speed, and he rubs his neck uneasily. He's been doing that a lot lately, "He was born in May, but the weather is better for festivities in June. He's like the queen."
"Does that make you a prince?" She can't help it. He was making her nervous.
Logan chuckles, obviously caught out of his comfort zone, "Would you believe it if I told you, I was asked that once before?"
"Wouldn't surprise me. You reek of money."
"Obviously, I have to be at this party; he's my father." He barely contains his eye roll. "It's like a big important thing that all members of the family must attend."
Rory cast him a side look. Is he inviting her to his father's birthday party?
"I'm not family." Rory realized it never occurred to her family ties would be involved.
They never discussed families. That part in the contract is pretty vague.
Logan gives her the most loaded look she'd ever seen from him. Her camera instinctively flashes, and she can tell he holds his displeasure. If it's because they're in public or the contract, she can never quite say.
"It's Friday night at the Plaza."
He first delivered it as a question, but Rory realizes it's not really up for discussion. She is expected to attend. Wow, they are making plans for a family event.
A major one.
"I work Fridays." It was the lamest excuse. Rory was already exploiting the holding-your-boss's-best-friend-hostage card to the max to play hooky, knowing Ben would not dare to fire her.
Rory has always prided herself on her work ethic, but now, she relished in her I don't give a fuck attitude. Rory felt no guilt whatsoever to skip work if the opportunity of a movie production came along. It was doing wonders for her portfolio, and she was getting more and more calls to come on set. Some even offered to pay for her services.
But all in all, Rory didn't deliberately try to rub Ben wrong. And he stayed out of her way unless absolutely necessary. Unknowingly to her, she owed it to Logan.
"I'll talk to Ben."
Better him than her. So Logan was aware. She wondered if Ben knows, but daren't ask.
Yet, another thing they should have discussed.
"Natalie will take care of the tickets and everything. You can fly out after work on Thursday or Friday morning. I can ask to use the jet. Whatever you are more comfortable with, I suppose. It shouldn't be a problem." Logan is rambling, "I mean, she could take care of accommodation too, if you're more comfortable, or you can… stay with me."
The jet? Rory knew Logan was well off, but how rich actually was he? Her grandmother only toyed around with the idea of sharing a plane.
Rory confidently feared Lorelai would throw a fit when finally finding out about the co-parenting agreement. And her father's oblivious assistance. However, family ties, with the richest of rich - this alone will is a blowout waiting to happen…
Rory swallowed hard.
Maybe her mother wouldn't mind. Lorelai was marrying Chris after all. Eventually. You can say a lot of things about Rory's father - poor wasn't one of them.
And he had a place in New York she could use.
"I can stay at my dad's place in Manhattan. I think he still has one." She says carefully.
Logan's expression is unreadable. Wait - did he want her to stay with him? Confusing man.
"What about you? When are you flying out?"
"I'll already be in New York that week."
"Waiting on the top of the Empire State Building?" She tried to ease the tension with a page off his book, a movie reference. Sleepless in Seattle seemed to fit.
"No."
It didn't work.
"Why not?" She is surprised at his firm answer—the usual smirk he wears absent.
"She gets hit by a taxi and never arrives in An Affair to Remember." Logan bites his inner cheek.
Oh, that's a terrible reference, apparently.
The silence stretch. Rory doesn't know who is more relieved when someone calls their turn.
"That's us."
She blinks at him when he stands up and disappears inside the doctor's office.
~W~
"How is the breeding program progressing?" Colin is verging on leery.
"Don't call it that."
"Forgive me." Colin chewed on something on the other side of the phone. "Have you impregnated her yet?"
"What are you eating?" Logan deflected the line of question.
"Skittles." Logan hears Colin's mouth full, "Did you see the commercial with the newlywed couple? When he jerks skittles all over? It's on YouTube."
"Yes," Logan said, amused. "It's funny."
"Is it like that?"
"No, it's not like that." Logan rolled his eyes.
"It has a sequel when the girl gives birth to a huge, orange, round baby. When they cut the cord, and all the skittles come rushing out. But it turns out the baby is not Skittles'. It's Reese's. It's a love child."
"Point, Colin."
"No point, just making conversation. Finn would get it." Colin said on the other side of the phone, "Speaking of Finn.."
"I sent a gift. Finn sent pictures." Logan tries to squashes the subject.
"I heard. It's comic; apparently, you and Chelsea sent the same gift. Steph and I are driving down to Hartford next weekend. I know you're around, wanna come?"
"Can't. Busy and I have this thing in Seattle on Monday."
"Logan, one of your best friends had a baby. Get over yourself, put your jealousy aside for two hours, and go down to fawn over it and smoke a cigar. You know you want to. Bring Rory if you need someone to hold your hand. God knows she can use practice."
Stubborn silence followed.
"Is everything good with Rory?" Colin's voice questions. He doesn't beat around the bush, does he?
Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't even know where to begin. It seems like every time they take a step forward; they retreated two back.
"Want my advice?" Colin offers, "Listen to Otis, Logan. Try a little tenderness."
~w~
New York
RORY GILMORE.
A man in a thin strips suit and a black blend cap holds a sign with her name in the domestic arrival hall. Rory sighed and dragged her carry-on behind her to meet the driver.
All this lavish disposable wealth left her unsettled when directed at her. It reminded her of her dad. Rory was more than happy to hail a taxi to her dad's place. Logan was adamant she'd at least use of the car service once she refused the jet.
Rory wasn't sure she liked this control freak, New York Logan.
As she gets closer, her eyes narrow suspiciously. She recognizes him, despite the cap.
"What's with the cap and suit combination, Huntzberger?"
"Worked for Ethan Hawke thought I'd give it a try. Could not abandon you to get ripped off by to the ruthless taxi drivers of New York. Could I?" The familiar smirks spread on his face, "Welcome to New York."
Liar. She wept when she watched An Affair to Remember earlier this week.
"Your New York."
"Yeah. My New York." His smile softens, his eyes hold something unfamiliar "Come on, I believe I owe you one Monday dinner."
"It's Thursday. You owe me a ride with Robert DeNiro too."
"I know you can eat back to back dinner, but there are not enough Mondays in the calendar. So Thursday will have to do." Logan grabbed the carry on, "My dad knows Bob, I guess that can be arranged."
Rory hates when he does this thing where he takes the lead and expects her to follow.
"Wait, Logan," She adjusted her camera better at her side, rushing her steps, "Does your dad really knows Robert DeNiro? For real?"
"He knows everybody."
Xx
The Village is a globe of red bricks, white windshield windows, stairs framed by black railings: small shops, colorful banners, bicycles. Street-art. Hidden gems. Logan leads her confidently towards their dinner destination. Rory's camera is happy that Logan conned her into this setting. New York assaults Rory's senses.
Logan is patient with the camera as long as it's not aimed at him.
She'd imagined his New York world similar to Seattle. High-end penthouse looking over the skyline, but it wasn't. She never expected Greenwich Village. New York Logan lived in a five-story apartment building with iconic fire-escapes.
The kind Richard Gere climbs to rescue Julia Roberts on Pretty Woman and she rescues him right back.
A quick google search indicated the housing prices were sky-rocketing. So maybe she shouldn't be so surprised—all this gentrification came at a cost.
"One of the finest culinary cities in the world, endless possibilities, unlimited choices, and you take me to eat a sandwich?" Rory pushed the menu away, disappointed, "Seriously, Pastrami? Salami? Can we please go somewhere else?"
"No."
"But I don't want to eat anything on this menu. And that's the whole point of dinner – eating."
"It's not about what you eat; it's where you eat." He counters calmly.
"No, the essence of food is a pretty big thing for a Gilmore, Logan. It's not part of the deal."
"The kind of the desired dinner was not specified in the contract." He responds, "The brisket is usually a good choice."
"Is that how you treat all your business partners? Is that how you conduct business with Ben?"
"Ben is much less picky about his dinner. He usually picked the half sandwich combos." Logan says reflectively, "Can I ask you something? Why dinner? Out of anything in the world you could have asked for, you wanted a weekly dinner. Why?"
"It's a Gilmore thing. My grandmother and mother started the Friday night dinner tradition when I was sixteen." Rory chewed her lip, deciding not to disclose more, "Needless to say, my grandmother never served sandwiches. It doesn't fall under the Emily Gilmore standard."
Rory found the dinner choice of the night underwhelming.
"You have no idea where we are, don't you?"
"It's a deli." She is completely clueless.
"It's not just a deli. It's Katz's Delicatessen. A New York City establishment of the highest order!" Logan looks at her as if she should know better.
Rory looks at him doubtfully. "It unappetizing."
"This is where Meg Ryan and Billie Crystal filmed the iconic scene of Harry met Sally. You know the one where she…" he gestures with his hand, trying to encourage her memory.
"Where she…? Where she what?" Rory she took a moment to take in the surrounding and recall the scene, the penny dropped: "Ah! Oh!"
"Yes…" a smug satisfaction slips onto his face, his eyes glinted with mischief, "Something along that line."
~w~
Friday night.
Rory Gilmore isn't sure what possessed her to buy these glittery shoes. The sale-women swore it would be the most comfortable shoe she'd ever wear in her life – but she lied. Rory needed three band-aids on each foot to fight the blister on her heel.
A girl got to do what a girl got to do when she stupidly left her shoes in Seattle. Yet she has to admit that while it feels on the tacky side for this particular event, they pair nicely with her dark blue dress.
"Ready?"
No. This event was a perplexing ending for a relatively good day of movie-spotting. New York's movie scene was bustling, and the internet knew to tell her where were the active filming locations.
Her feet hurt from wandering all day.
Logan was gone when she woke up. The note on the pillow said: Work. Maid comes at 11am.
"It's your night." Her hands smooth her dress nervously. Rory was determined not to feel phased by this event. Though Logan was not making it any easier, he withdrew deeper into himself.
"It's my mother's night. My idea of a proper good night doesn't include a black tie." He seemed edgy.
"I doubt your idea of a fun night includes any clothes at all." It just flew out of her mouth; it certainly wasn't intentional.
Her dirty quip makes him smile brightly at her.
"Aw, you know me so well. In that case, I can make exceptions for the tie." He adds a cheeky wink enjoying the shaded blush creeping into her cheeks.
Logan closes the distance and maneuvers her into the room with the gentlest touch on her elbow. "It's a pretty good turnout. We're just in time for people to notice I'm here, make the rounds and sneak out when my dad's back is turned."
"So who's here? Or rather, who's not here?" She tries to shake it off.
"Alright, see that guy right there?" He leans in, his hand moves to her back, fostering a smile as he talks, "He's a Rockefeller. He doesn't like to talk about the fact that he's a Rockefeller, but he wants you to know that he's a Rockefeller. So if you talk to him, make sure he knows you know, but don't say you know."
He slipped into his media mogul in the making mode so smoothly.
His speech is much faster than usual. He never says this many words in Seattle.
"What happens if I blow my cover?" Rory tries to focus on his words as their feet are falling into step. His hand ended up on at her waist—Rory's hand grips at the shoulder blade of his jacket.
"I have absolutely no idea. Duck and run?" Logan space their stance a little, he sends her a reassuring smile. "Just try to have fun. I'll buy you cheesecake at the end of the night."
"A real New-York style cheesecake." She stresses.
"Yes, a real New-York style cheesecake." He laughs.
"10 o'clock, my sister, Honor." He turns her the other way; his breath tickles her ear lobe. Rory's gaze falls on a slim build blonde wearing a black backless dress. The woman turns at that exact moment as if sensing her brother was speaking of her. "I'll introduce you later. More privately."
"Oh." Family.
"There's Colin. Finn could not make it tonight." He doesn't say why, but she senses an edge in his voice.
Rory is never more relieved to see the lawyer. His girlfriend is a bubbly blonde who tease Logan about the print on his socks. Colin and Steph are an entertaining pair, and it soon becomes clear she's stuck as their third wheel for the night.
"I have to go make the rounds," Logan announces grudgingly. Steph looks sympathetic; Colin looks like he couldn't care less. Logan squeezed Rory's elbow gently, "Be good, stay away from pumpkins, and don't lose your sparkly shoe at midnight."
She doesn't miss the fleeting look Logan cast at Colin.
"Why would I lose my shoe?" She wonders concerned and changes her tune at the appearance of his dimples.
"I don't know. It happened before." His smile throws her back to the night he lent her his socks. He leaves with a quick peck on her cheek, "I'm only a half a Kropog away."
Hey! That's her line!
"Isn't he cute?" Steph looks all romanced, "I'm gonna go score some more Champagne."
Colin wears his obnoxiously, amused expression again. "How you like New York so far, Cinderella?"
"I had dinner where Harry met Sally." She's starting to realize Colin was right. Logan opts for movie references when nervous.
"He's going all out on you, huh?" Colin lowered his voice, "This is the whole Huntzberger experience. Make sure you tell him when it gets too much. This star leg can get a little jarred."
xx
Colin kindly offered her the next dance after Steph manipulated him into the dance floor. Rory refused.
She already ruined the man's shoes once.
"Hugo's here, did you see him?" Logan materialized out of thin air deposited a glass of some sort of mock-cocktail in her hand to keep her appearance inline with the setting. "I told him to seek you out. Is Colin playing nice?"
The lawyer, especially, is going out of his way to make her feel accommodated.
She nods her head. How does he even know about Hugo? Another familiar face would be lovely.
It's one of the most boring birthday parties she ever attended. Logan kept being whisked away into schmoozing and talking stocks. He sporadically popped out of nowhere once in a while. Like he was checking her pulse.
Rory has been catching glimpses of him all night. New York Logan is blindingly charismatic.
"I have to talk that guy over there." Logan sucks air between his teeth, "So sorry about this. We are out of here before midnight. I promise."
Rory doesn't find Hugo, but she finds the dessert bar.
"I recommend the strawberry, fewer calories." Rory turns to a blonde woman around her age holding a champagne flute; she doesn't look familiar, "I'm Walker. Nice to meet you…"
"Rory." The cheesecake never looked farther way.
"Lovely," The girl tightly smiled, "Logan is our most eligible bachelor; everyone is trying to land him."
It sounded like a warning. Or a claim.
"Oh, I'm not trying to land him, I'm just using him for sex." Rory made a mental note to tell her mother she used Julia Robert's jibe to knock down a gossip girl. Lorelai would crown her queen for the day.
Logan will get a kick out of it, too, to be honest.
"Oh well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, doesn't it?"
Rory looked at the girl suspiciously. Not quite sure if she directs the dig at her, or Logan.
"Not it the tree has anything to say about it." A deep male voice boomed behind her. The girl beside her paled considerably.
"Mr. Huntzberger!" The speed the fake smile graced Walker's face was astonishing, "What a wonderful party! Shira has outdone herself this time! But she always put together brilliant events. Happy birthday!"
"Thank you. Compliments are due where compliments are due – you should seek out my wife and tell her." A sophisticated way to put someone in place and say get lost.
The blonde man wore a yellow tie. It clashes loudly with his navy blue suit. She can't help but remember that Logan hates yellow.
"Mitchum Huntzberger." He offered his hand, "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Gilmore. How do you like my party?"
Mitchum Huntzbeger looks younger than sixty.
"It lacks a pinata."
The smirk on his face looks awfully familiar, "My boy always liked his women with a bit of sass."
Rory blushed; he certainly heard her part in the exchange with the catty blonde. And obviously, he knew who she was. Now he was discreetly studying her none the less.
Logan often wears the same expression when gauging where her head at.
"It's Rory. Sir." She smiled politely.
"Rory. It has a nice ring to it. You can always count on Logan to take things in their most literal way. You are in attendance but spared the introduction. Very clever. That boy, he never fails to bend the rules. Can I offer you a drink?"
Is this a test? She felt cornered. Logan has thrown something about later introductions, but since then, the earth has swallowed him.
"Oh, no, that's okay, I'm fine, I should…"
"Share a club soda with me." He said decisively, steering her away by almost invisible touch at her elbow, "I am glad we got the chance to talk tonight, in part because we still have work to do."
Logan seemed to inherit so many mannerisms.
"What work?" She just met the man.
"Well, we have to figure out what our boy's next step should be."
"Our boy?"
"Logan is talented. It's time for him to stop being a child and to start being a man. It's time for him to start focusing on his future. Now he's heading towards greater things in life, and it's because of you." Mitchum signals the bartender.
Her? What has she got to do with Logan's career path? Hell, she can't even figure out her career yet.
"My son and I have our differences, but I'm very fond of him, even if he likes to think otherwise. Logan's love life is his own business; I don't get involved. I just wanted to tell you that I see you as a real asset to Logan and our family."
An asset?
"With all due respect Mr. Huntz.."
"Mitchum, please, I insist. You are family now." She's family. The way he says it make Rory feel rubber stumped. He flashed her an all too familiar smile, "So tell me, how can I help?"
"What do you mean?" She looked wary at the tall high-ball filled with fizzy drink the bartender planted before her. Like it's poison.
"You are part of the team here, and of course, we're going to take care of you too. Logan tells me you're interested in photography. If you need me to place a call, pull a contact, don't hesitate. I know people who know people."
"That won't be necessary. Thank you." So that what nepotism felt like.
Was this what Ben meant when he said it'll be Mitchum Huntzberger coming after her? Her eyes searched the room desperately. Where the hell is Logan? Or Colin. Only a half a Kropog away is empty words.
"Well, the offer stands."
Rory sipped carefully for lack of better response.
"So, how do you like New York, Rory?" Mitchum swiftly changed the subject sensing her uneasiness.
"As a city?"
"As a place of permanent residence."
~w~
True to his world, before the clock stroke midnight Logan called a change of venue, and the kicked off the chase after New-York style cheesecake.
He finds it in a quiet bakery.
Rory scrapes the fruit sauce off the top of the cake.
"Why do you do that?" Logan looked at her, amused. His tie disappeared into his pocket the moment they left the event, "Don't you like fruit sauce?"
"Fruits should only come in pies," Rory grumbles an answer.
"Why didn't you ask them to put it on the side? Let's get you a new one." Logan starts to signal someone for assistance.
"It's fine." She insists. He acts like Christopher does when he's trying to make things better. Throw his weight around importantly. Rory hates that.
"It's not fine; we'll get you a new one." He starts to argue then stops, "What's wrong?"
Rory contemplated if she should share the evening's conversations with him, "I met your dad."
"I was hoping to conduct that introduction with more control of the situation. But I should have known better." Logan mashed the baked cheese with his fork, uneasiness creeping in his voice. "He has wanted to meet you for a while."
Mitchum wanted to meet her before Aaron Rosen.
"He did?" She's surprised to learn that. It seemed like Logan was quite keen to avoid running any introductions at all.
"So what did you think of him?" he leaned back in his seat, looking at her.
"Is that a trick question?" She asks.
"No. I remember you saying my father is an interesting man. Now, you've finally met him, spoke to him," he reasoned in a somewhat composed manner, "He never fails to leave an impression."
"He is straightforward. You are a lot alike."
"We are nothing alike." He says it so fast it makes her think that she might have stepped on a sore wound. "What did you talk about?"
"You. Your potential to greatness to be more precise."
"Ah, his favorite topic." Content is the farthest thing from his face. "What happened to books? Current events? The weather? Mutual acquaintance."
"You are our mutual acquaintance." She lower her eyes. She's mad.
"What did he say to you?" Logan's eyes harden, and he drawls out her name, "Rory."
"He called me an asset. And flaunted his connections for my disposal."
"An asset?" Logan repeats, unbothered by the rest.
"Yes. Like I'm your pony or something. Is your sister's husband is a great asset to her and the family?" Rory is offended, it's hard to miss. He is mad for her too.
Mitchum would have never dared to say that to Chelsea. They will definitely have words about that.
"Josh is the guy who holds my sister purse when she shops. He isn't producing the heir to the Huntzberger fortune. You are." The explanation comes out harsher than he intended, and he doesn't fight the urge to cover her hand.
Rory looks shell-shocked.
"He knows?" She tries to pull her hand out of his. He knew you were drinking club soda. Of course, he knows, you stupid girl.
"Yes, he knows." Logan confirms, rubbing his neck, "I've listed you on my health insurance. It's the cooperate insurance, it covers everything, so, unfortunately, I can't hide that from my father. The situation had to be discussed."
"All of it?" The discomfort at this new information is evident in Rory's voice. Her eyes hold enormous vulnerability. He understands somewhat; he too would have liked to keep it a lot more private.
"No." Logan moves his chair closer to her; his thumb rubs her hand. He has the decency to look sheepish. "Just the basics."
"The basics?" she waits for him to elaborate.
"Yes, the basics." He says as if she is mad to think more, "I didn't dwell on the specifics. It's none of his business. He knows his boundaries. My sister, though, has a very loose understanding of boundaries. You'll meet her tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" She's not sure if she wants to.
"I figured you'd have enough for one night. I know my family is a lot to take in." He sighs, "This is part of my New York. It comes with the territory of being part of my world. I wanted to spare some of it from you tonight. There are some certain expectations to follow when you're a Huntzberger… I'm still figuring how to navigate some of this myself."
Richard Gilmore's words resonated with him; Rory and he were too busy with fine-tuning the focus to see the big picture. That was fine in Seattle. In this world, in New York, what they are doing is more than he initially thought. It's bigger than just him and her.
And she is oblivious to a lot of the possible reciprocation on her life. So was he, until now.
"Huntzberger obligations." Her blues eyes focus on him.
It's a vague term, but it works for this moment.
"Yes, a lot comes with that name. But those are my obligations, not yours. They are not affiliated with you. You will never be bonded to them or the Huntzberger legacy. It isn't what you signed up for." His free thumb brushes the side of her cheek, "Did I tell you you look great tonight?"
Rory mentally took a step back. He can't just say stuff like that out of the blue.
"You can't charm your way out of this, Logan."
He will have to protect her. Protect them. He will have to keep them in Seattle as long as he possibly could.
"I'm not trying to. I dig the new sparkly shoes." A small teasing smile brings out his dimples, "Now, are you done with that cake? What do you say we'd have a proper good night?"
Maybe, just maybe, she's starting to like this New York version of Logan.
xx
Logan can't pin-point the exact moment things set in motion. He blames it on a New York state of mind that resulted in them playfully body ping-ponging along the small corridor that leads to his bedroom.
His hands rest on her hips, hers on his shoulders, their lips locked.
"I just wanted to make sure you got home okay." He backs away a little dazed. His hand runs down her arm lightly. He doesn't know why he is stalling she slept in his bed last night, but that was the innocent kind of sleeping.
"Oh yeah, I got home okay." She plays along, her hand crawling up his neck.
"So I see." His eyes focus on her swollen lips in anticipation.
"Thanks for the concern I appreciate it." She spins them, so he is backed against the wall. She captures his lips back and feels him pull her closer.
His mouth wanders up to her jaw up to her ear, "It wasn't all concern."
"Oh, really?" Her fingers fist his hair. He likes that, she remembers.
Now she is trapped between him and the wall, his hands are on her waist, "No, I don't believe I said proper goodnight to you this evening."
"No, you didn't." She agrees.
"Good night." He leans in for another kiss gets a little to lose in it when it lingers longer than the rest. His face remains to hover close when they part.
Oh, this is ridiculous.
"I thought you said proper goodnight." There's a smile in Rory's voice, and she pushes his his suits jacket off his shoulders. His embarrassment chuckled is cute.
She dives to kiss him again.
"Rory, are you sure?"
"Stop playing games, Logan. A wrinkle in time."
xx
The magic shimmered into the next morning. He can't get enough of kissing her.
In his lustful, dazzled state of mind, he pushes the click of the cracking door to the back of his mind. Set on devouring this fleeting wrinkle in time.
The bedroom door slammed shut.
Logan froze mid-kiss. Shit. He forgot to lock the door.
"Ay! You bite me!" Blue eyes blazed at him with annoyance.
"Mommy!" He hears the recognizable voice on the other side of the door, "Uncle Logan has a guest, and he didn't lock the door!"
Logan visibly cringes.
"Who was that?!" Her fingers fly to her lip. No blood.
"Phoebe." Logan moved faster than light to lock the door, frantically stumbling into his clothes, "We have about three minutes before she comes back. Get dressed."
"Phoebe?" Rory pulled the sheets closer to her chest.
"My niece. I forgot they were coming this early. You want to use the washroom first?" His heart thumping hard against his chest, "Please don't get weird about it if she happens to ask if you're a frog."
~w~
Honor Huntzberger scanned the room for forensic evidence. Everything was too tidy, apart from some dishes in the sink. Logan must have had the maid come in. There was no response when she entered and called out her brother's name. The apartment was quiet. Either he's out, or still sleeping - which is unusual for Logan.
Phoebe, unsolicited, dashed to find her uncle.
Honor would skin her brother if he forgot his promise to take Phoebe to the zoo. She was so looking forward to it she didn't even mind if Amelia tagged along.
Amelia was addicted to that stupid farm game on the smartphone Mitchum bought her. When Mitchum reeled in the pleasure of her oldest learning about business, Honor decided Amelia should spend some time with her uncle to balance it out.
"Mommy!" Phoebe's voice shrilled out, and her little feet skipped excitingly on the wooden floor, "Uncle Logan has a guest! and he didn't lock the door!"
Oh god, what has her daughter walked in on.
xx
"You're eating my cereal Pheebs?" Logan emerged from the bedroom moments later, dragging a flustered brunette girl on his heels with a firm grip on her wrist. She wore a pair of Logan's socks and looked ready to blot in her blue jeans and a white t-shirt.
Her brother's hair was messier than usual.
"Mummy said, I could." The blonde girl said with a mouth full of rice crispy. Her brown eyes directed at the new female presence. "Who are you? Are you a guest?"
"She's not a guest; she's his girlfriend," Amelia said knowingly next to her sister on the breakfast bar. Her eyes are glued to the smaller screen, blasting fruits on her phone.
Honor stifled a laugh. Her brother didn't seem so sure about it as her daughter was.
"No, she's not. She's a guest. Uncle Logan said adults could have guests when they are sleeping." Phoebe argued as knowingly, "It's called entertaining."
Honor chuckled. Oh, he had it coming. Logan looked tad uncomfortable. The woman next to him looked like she was ready to dig through the wood floor with a fork.
"Who wants coffee?" Honor suggested and turned to the coffee maker, leaving Logan to fence the misconceptions he single-handedly fed Phoebe. She waited two years for this day.
"Rory, this my sister Honor. Amelia and Pheebs."
"Sugar?" Honor asked.
"Rory doesn't take sugar." Logan's ignorance is commendable. Avoidance is the best strategy. Honor studied the girl named Rory. She remained silent. Logan was standing protectively close.
"I'm his favorite," Phoebe bared her teeth at the unexpected guest. She was announcing her territory.
"There are no favorites!" Honor interjected, sending a disapproving side glance to her brother.
"When do we go to the Zoo?" Phoebe looks at Logan peeved.
"I'm gonna get my camera ready for the day." Rory finally found her voice and a good enough excuse to flee from the cross-examination.
"Soon." Logan answered his eyes following the brunette.
"Can Rory not come?"
"No." Both Huntzberger siblings said at the same time.
Phoebe looked at him like he betrayed her.
Xx
"You're okay? We should probably talk about last night…" Logan finally gets the chance to step away from Phoebe.
His little niece kept a firm hold on his hand at all times, practically ignored Rory keeping the chatter going as she went out of her way to please him by agreeing to see bats exhibit.
Which was unusual because Phoebe was scared of the dark.
"It was a wrinkle in time. That one hates me." Rory is more concerned about other, much less pressing matters.
The five years old is engrossed watching the Monkey's feeding time with Amelia by her side. Yet, every few moments, Phoebe sneaked a glance their way.
"She doesn't hate you. She's a little miffed about her plans not going her way, but that's it." Logan said dismissively. "She gets that from her Huntzberger side."
"You don't say." Rory rolled her eyes, reminds her of someone, "I can leave, you know. You guys can spend time together. I can go to the MOMA or the central library. There's a bunch of sights I wanted to catch anyways…. There's tons of sight-seeing. I mean, come on, it's New York, there's something to do at every corner…"
Rory was cracking under the Huntzberger pressure. Logan laced his pinky finger with hers.
"Rory, she's five. She's not all mean girl on you. She's upset because Honor made Amelia come."
She sends him a doubtful look, "She's not upset about Amelia, Logan."
Fine. Logan could admit that Phoebe's competitive nature shone for miles.
"I might have to bribe her with ice cream; she'll get over it." He said in afterthought, "Let's hope for a boy. I don't have the patience to deal with all that female manipulation daily."
Rory gawked at him. He can't spring this on her like that.
Xx
Phoebe wanted ice cream and chips. Logan agrees to make her extra sweet. So now, they are sitting around a picnic table. Rory is by his side and the two girls across from them.
"Are you a princess?" The reigning president of the Logan Huntzberger fan club asked her directly.
"No," Rory bravely answered.
Logan shook his head. He's dying to see how this Huntzberger Shanghai plays out. Phoebe makes Rory nervous, which is amusing as hell. Amelia started playing nice once she figured out she could use Rory's skills for perfect Instagram pictures.
"How do you know?"
"Because I wasn't born a princess," Rory answered, obviously confident in her logical answer.
"That's not how you can tell. You have to take a test." Surprisingly, Amelia teamed with her little sister.
It floored Logan to the point he suspected they had conspired it together. If he thought the sisters bonding by the monkey's cage was suspicious – now he was sure of it.
"A test? What kind of test?" Rory hated tests.
"You have to kiss uncle Logan, and if you don't turn into a frog – then you are," Phoebe said seriously.
"What? Like right now?" Rory asks apprehensively.
Phoebe nods. Amelia's fingers drum in anticipation. Logan grins like the devil.
"On the lips. Like in the Little Mermaid." Amelia instructed. Phoebe's brown eyes are un-trusting.
"Comes on then." Logan encourages her with a smile.
If he's going to get a kiss out of it, so be it.
Rory has never been more grateful that he is an expert at keeping things as PG as possible. When she pulls back, a blush is coloring her all over. Logan squeezes her hand under the table briefly, trying to reassure her.
She got Huntzbergered by a five and seven years old.
"Umm... Did I pass?" Three sets of brown eyes study her carefully.
"Is he yummy?" Logan, all smiles, burst out laughing at Phoebe's urgent inquiry.
"I don't know yet. We'll see. Turning into a frog is not instant." Amelia has put the final nail in Rory's confidence coffin.
How Mitchum of her.
Rory quickly removed herself from the scene, "I'm going to use the washroom."
"Not nice," Logan warns the two girls once Rory is far enough. Phoebe moved to his side, effectively blocking Rory's future return.
"It was Phoebe's idea. She's jealous." Amelia told on her sister, reminding Logan the countless times Honor shamelessly ratted him out. "I think she's pretty."
"Am not!" Phoebe protested unconvincingly.
"Can you keep a secret?" Logan hash whispers. "But you can't tell mommy."
Both girls nod eagerly;
"She is a princess. Little birds help her get dressed in the morning."
"No way! Really?" Phoebe exclaimed, her eyes getting big like stars. Amelia lost interest in the conversation and went back to her phone; the seven years old didn't fall for it anymore.
"She has glass slippers, and sometimes, she wears a tiara too." Logan winked, holding his laugh and ruffled the smaller blonde hair affection, "But you're still my favorite. Pheebs."
Amelia's head shoots up, "Mom said there are no favorites!"
"Rory can't come to the zoo next time." Phoebe announced, "Even if she is a princess."
"Sure thing." Logan agrees, "Amelia, watch your sister for a minute. Don't go anywhere until I get back - both of you."
xx
"They are worse than your father. And You – you are a jerk playing along." Rory's eyes are all fury when he waits her out near the ladies.
"Oh come on, it was a little funny." Logan offers her an easy smile.
Rory shoots him a look.
"To you, maybe." Her eyes still blaze with frustration, she runs her hand in her hair, "This is too much."
"It was just a kiss. We did more than kiss last night." He reasons, "They were just messing with you. You really shouldn't get so worked up about this. I told you not to get weird about the frog thing. Amelia thinks you're pretty."
She's not supposed to get this upset about this little childish trick.
"What?"
"I got my period." She blurts at him.
Logan's lips shape the 'O' sound. This is not a desirable outcome.