Fired?

I just stood there for a second, stupidly holding the box that had been unceremoniously thrust into my hands. The rest of the newsroom had come to a screeching halt. Had he really just fired me in front of everyone?

"Get a move on, Gilmore. Turn in your keycard at security." Gerry turned to head back to his desk, about to shut his door behind him when I finally found my voice.

"Excuse me?"

He stopped, like he was surprised that he would have to explain himself. He turned back around and spoke insultingly slow, "You're fired. Take the box. Clean out your…"

"Yea, I heard you, but…"

Visibly frustrated, he huffed on his way into the office, me following more meekly than I'd like to admit behind. How can I be fired? He shut the door loudly behind us. That's when I saw The Times on his desk; my article, right there in black and white. Suddenly I went from embarrassed and confused to downright angry. This is complete crap.

"Gerry, I…"

"Save it. You know why this is happening."

"Honestly I don't." I had a pretty good idea, but he had no right to fire me for this. "You had first rights to publish that article, Gerry. That's the agreement we had. You turned it down and ran another reporter's work instead."

"This is not the same article I turned down."

Oh my god. I had edited and refined to fit what I knew Dominic wanted to see; what The Times wanted to see. "Gerry you had just as much a right to ask for edits as my other editor did. You didn't. You didn't even want to discuss it. This is…"

"You are in breach of contract. You're done. I told you, clear out your desk."

I was dumbfounded. He can't do this. I didn't do anything wrong.

"Do I need to call security up here?"

I was fuming, but I clearly wasn't going to get anywhere with him. Still in disbelief I took my box back to my desk. Not my desk anymore.

Leslie was standing in the aisle of the newsroom looking at least as befuddled as I was. I put the box down on the desk and collapsed in the chair for a minute before opening a drawer and starting to sort through the contents for my personal items.

"You're just going to take it? This is a load of crap and…"

She is not going to make anything better by making a scene, "Les…"

She got the hint and put a damper on her diatribe, "This is about the Huntzbergers, isn't it?"

"Les, I just need to get my stuff together and get out of here. He already threatened to call security once."

"Ugh! I cannot believe him. You know what, I'm going to leave too. Screw this. If he thinks he can…"

"Leslie, you are not leaving."

"Watch me; we're going On the Waterfront on his ass. If more people knew what was going on…"

"You cannot quit this job." She knew I was right, but I appreciated the solidarity. I happened to glance up at that moment to see Gerry's assistant eyeing us from her post outside his office. "Honestly, you should probably be as far away from me as possible."

Leslie reluctantly caught my drift, but wasn't going to leave me stranded if I needed her, "You sure?" I nodded and got back to my packing. "Okay, I'll call you later."

I quickly backed up my contacts and personal research and files on a flash drive and as I tossed it into the box it rattled around in my Yale mug. The clattering seemed to echo around the newsroom. This is it. Potentially the end of my journalism career. Fired.

I picked up my box and tucked the framed article Logan had given me under my arm. The walk toward the elevator felt infinitely longer than it ever had before, and it felt like every pair of eyes in the office was on me. In that moment, despite my trusty pro-con list, I couldn't help but wish I had taken Logan's suggestion. I should have come in this morning and quit first thing; I could have at least saved myself some humiliation.

I had no choice but to pass by Gerry's office on my way out, and sure enough he was looming in his doorway, looking awfully proud of himself, "Don't worry, Gilmore. I'm sure you'll land somewhere."

Ugh. This was such crap. He might well have just spit on me as I walked out. The more I thought about it, the more angry I got. I could feel it rising up inside me as I descended in the elevator. He actually fired me. That piece of… A tap on my shoulder pulled me from my harangue.

"What?" I turned around with quite a bit more vitriol than I had expected, only to see one of the security guards for the building standing behind me. He gently but firmly cleared his throat as he stood over me in the tiled lobby. What the hell does he… Oh. My key card. Damn Gerry.

I handed it over quickly and pushed my way out of the doors, desperate to get outside and away from the most humiliating half hour of my life. It was only once I was on the sidewalk that I realized that I had nowhere to go. I started walking in the direction of home, trying to figure out what I should be doing next. Wright, I guess; keep writing pieces I can send to Dominic. I'm going to have to tell him to be less picky about where he's shopping my pieces if freelance was going to be my only income.

My anger started to dissolve into something else… Mild panic, maybe? I've got a little bit of savings, but not much. I had never actually planned on touching my trust fund. Grandpa had helped me invest a little of it here and there, but mostly I had planned on it just accruing interest so I could retire someday, maybe travel. But now…

Ugh. I'm going to have to tell my grandparents I was fired, and Mom and Luke, not to mention Logan. As I approached the apartment I started to feel a tightness in my chest. It's bound to get around that I'd been fired. And then the Huntzbergers will know and… Shit. I felt beads of cold sweat begin to form on the back of my neck. I have no job. No reliable income. I am exactly what they expected me to be, totally reliant on my trust fund and their son.

I got back to our building and dropped my box with the doorman; I asked him to look up the address for Logan's office. I had never been, but this was news I need to break in person, and sooner rather than later. Eight blocks later I was in the elevator on the way up to Huntzberger Media Corporation. Logan wasn't expecting me and I had no idea what his schedule was like today, but… well it's not like I can't wait. I don't have anything else going on today.

The office was sleek and modern. Exactly what I should have expected. Lots of glass, steel, and dark marble. The receptionist asked if I was expected. Definitely not. "No, but I…" I should have just called Logan, or his assistant. I have her number somewhere, don't I?

"Rory?"

I turned when I heard my name, especially surprised to have heard my name from a female voice passing through the lobby. Who do I know here that would… Oh crap. What is her name?

"Hi, I thought that was you!" When I didn't immediately respond, she filled in, "Rebecca, we met at dinner the other night." Right, the PR girl who Logan slept with. "Does Logan know you're here?"

Damn it. I didn't want to like her. I put on as good of an 'everything is fine' face as I could manage, "No, but it's good to see you again. Just thought I'd... surprise him…" One way or another, this would be a surprise.

"Oh, come on... this will be fun!" If I weren't in such a daze, her enthusiasm might have been contagious. At this point though, all I could do was follow blindly in her path.

She leaned over the reception desk, handed me a visitor badge despite the glare from the receptionist, and then scanned her own key card to push past the half door into the offices. "Logan should just be finishing up a meeting…" She led me around a corner past a glass walled conference room, and there he was, sitting at the head of the long table, leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. He was nodding, listening intently to whomever was presenting at the moment. "Yep, looks like they shouldn't be too long. I'll let you into his office to wait?"

"Um, yea, that's fine…" Just as we were coming past the conference room, Logan happened to catch a glimpse of us. He immediately looked concerned, I hoped the awkward half wave I gave would keep him from cutting out of the meeting before they were done.

We approached the corner office with Logan's name emblazoned on the nameplate. Logan Huntzberger, President, CEO. His secretary was not at her desk at the moment, but Rebecca called for her anyway, "Carlene?"

"Down here, what do you need?" An older woman with curled gray hair appeared from a doorway a few feet down the hall carrying a stack of what appeared to be freshly bound presentation packets. The phone on her desk began to ring as she hurried toward us. She placed the packets in a neat pile while simultaneously replacing the earpiece and answering the phone, "Logan Huntzberger's office, please hold." She looked up at us expectantly from her chair as the phone rang again.

Rebecca introduced me as if Carlene should know who I was, "This is Rory."

Carlene pressed her earpiece again as she processed what Rebecca had said, "Logan Huntzberger's office, please hold."

She pulled the earpiece out once more and tossed it on the desk as she stood up to greet me. I was maybe expecting a handshake, instead she wrapped her arms around me in a warm hug, "Rory! So good to finally meet you!"

I was taken aback, but reciprocated as best as I could manage, "Nice to meet you too." She clearly knew more about me than I knew about her.

"What do you need?"

"I was just hoping to wait for Logan, if that's okay?" There was something about Carlene that immediately put me at ease.

"Oh sure, sure, come on in…" She led me to the door as I waved a 'goodbye' to Rebecca and was ushered in, "Can I get you anything? Coffee, right?" She seemed so pleased to be able to offer, so I took her up on a cup. She disappeared and left me in Logan's impressive office.

The exterior walls were all glass, and the interior, like the rest of the office, was done in cool tones of blue and grey. To one side there was a smaller conference table, and in the corner sat a small sofa and a pair of cushy chairs. Facing the door we had entered was his desk; behind it, an enormous built in shelf with various divided sections. Most of them were filled with books or held framed certificates. There were a few photos scattered throughout. One of Logan with Honor and Josh from what I assume was one of their trips to California, one with the group of guys I had come to know at dinner the other night, and one of Logan and I standing on top of the scaffolding all those years ago. The photo was taken from the ground, so if you didn't know it was us, it could have been anyone, but there we were, holding hands about to jump.

My reminiscing was interrupted by the reappearance of Carlene. She bustled in with a small tray, appointed with a coffee cup, a small french press, and a plate of biscotti, and placed it on the coffee table in the seating area, "Come make yourself at home, Logan should only be a few more minutes."

I sat down on the edge of the couch and she poured a cup of coffee. "No cream or sugar, right?"

She knows how I take my coffee? I smiled as I realized that she must be the 'guy' Logan knows who makes all of his special deliveries happen. It made me curious about her. "Right… Carlene?"

"Yes, Dear?"

"How long have you worked with Logan?"

"Oh, about two and a half years now."

Two and half years? "You moved here from California?"

She nodded with a smile, "Mhm, about a month ago now. So far, so good, but I'm told this has been a mild winter."

I nodded in agreement, it had been. "So he asked you to move with him?"

She looked at me a little puzzled, but continued, "He gave me the option to stay or to come here."

"And you wanted to move?"

She shrugged as she tidied up a few things on Logan's desk, "My husband's retired, our kids are grown, and I know a good thing when I've got it… He's one of the good ones." She added a sly wink, like she was letting me in on a secret.

She talked about Logan like he was one of her own children. Despite all of the crap that had just happened, I couldn't help but smile as she excused herself. People were loyal to him. That said a lot about how he handled himself at work.

I took a sip… it was good coffee. I stood up from my perch, eager to learn more about 'work Logan'. The office was well appointed and neat, obviously thanks at least in part to Carlene. He had a single framed photo on his desk, one of us he had snapped that night on the carousel in Boston. His calendar was open on his desk; he was currently finishing up a meeting with advertisers and his next appointment was… wonderful… with Mitchum. The warm feeling brought on by Carlene was suddenly replaced with a pit in my stomach. I almost bolted right then and there. Seeing Mitchum an hour after I'd been fired was not what I needed right now.

Before I could even make a move to the door though it opened, and there was Logan. One look at me and he knew something was wrong, "What's going on, Ace? What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry I didn't call, I just…"

"You never have to call, I just wasn't expecting to see you here. I thought you were going to stick it to Gerry."

"Yea, well… I never got the chance."

He was genuinely confused, "What do you mean?"

"Haven't had a chance to read the papers yet today?" I gestured to the neatly folded stack of periodicals on the coffee table.

"No, I was in a meeting all morning. Ace, come on…"

I grabbed The Times from the pile and pulled out the International News section. I took a deep breath and handed it to Logan. I watched his eyes skim the headlines as he slowly unfolded the paper. With tentative excitement he realized why I'd given it to him, "Ace…"

I managed a grimace, but that was as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Then he got it, "No. No… He didn't. He can't…"

Shamefully I nodded, "He did. He fired me."

He sank into his desk chair, a pained expression on his face, "Idiot. He's an idiot. What did he say?"

I sat in one of the chairs facing his desk, "He claims I'm in breach of contract; that this isn't the same article I submitted to him."

"Oh…" The disgust dripped from Logan's voice, "What a load of crap."

"Which is basically what I said. I told him that he had the right to ask for changes when I submitted it the first time… and that he shut down any chance I had to follow up before even looking at anything I had."

Logan just sat there for a minute, letting it sink in. He exhaled, clearly frustrated. His phone rang on the desk behind him; he picked it up distractedly, "Huntzberg…" He was clearly cut off by Carlene or whoever was on the other end of the line. He rolled his eyes as he put the receiver back in its cradle, "Incoming…"

Incoming? What does… Oh no. Sure enough not thirty seconds later the door swings open and in strides Mitchum followed by an irritated Carlene, already diving into whatever needed to be discussed today, no greeting, no pleasantries, "Logan, we need to talk about Chicago and the…"

"Logan, your father is here." The sarcasm was palpable, and I appreciated Carlene a little bit more for doing it.. "Can I get you anything Mr. Huntbzerger?"

He answered without even acknowledging Carlene's existence; what an ass. "Coffee, decaf. Now we need to…" He finally noticed I was here, stopping mid sentence, a puzzled expression on his face, "Rory, good to see you."

"Dad, we're in the middle of something." Mitchum didn't respond. "Can you give us a minute?"

Taken aback by being politely excused by his own son, Michum thankfully bowed out of the office. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Rory…" Uh oh. I could tell from his tone I wasn't going to like where this was headed.

"Logan, please don't…"

"Ace, he's had some experience in this."

"In what? Almost firing me?"

"In wrongful termination suits. I mean, generally his lawyers are on the other end of it, but that might be all the more reason to…"

"Wrongful termination?"

He nodded sincerely, "You were right Ace, he had every right to ask for those same edits you made for Dominic. The lawyers will need to go through your contract with a fine tooth comb, but if he's claiming breach of contract this should be open and shut, especially considering the lines we could draw between him and HPG."

Sue The Post? I guess it was at least worth looking into… I hated the idea of getting Mitchum involved, but if we were really going to do this, we would need him to corroborate information anyway, "Fine." I sighed, resigning myself to a bit of further humiliation while Logan opened the door to let his dad back in the room.

"Hope I didn't interrupt anything serious…" He was being polite. This whole civility thing was still strange to me.

"Actually…" Logan looked at me expectantly.

Crap. I took a deep breath, "I got fired this morning."

Mitchum's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, "For what?"

Logan handed him the paper, "Her editor is claiming breach of contract…" He gave his father the Reader's Digest version of recent events.

"Pittman, right?" I nodded, Mitchum shook his head knowingly, "That clown has been trying to get me to hire him for years. He should know better."

With that he took out his cell phone. With the press of one button he was waiting to be connected, "Yea, set up a meeting…" He checked his watch, "Three o'clock, my office. Wrongful termination" I heard a muffled voice from the other end before Mitchum continued, "No, we're filing." There was a moment of what I assumed was surprised silence on the other end of the line, before what sounded like an affirmative response. Mitchum hung up the phone with no goodbye, and that was that.

"Got a copy of your contract?" Oh he was talking to me now.

"Uh, not on me, but I have one at the apartment."

"Good, messenger it to my office, the guys will take a look and we'll go from there." He stood from his seat and I could hardly believe that I was actually feeling a hint of gratitude for his shrewdness, or that I seemed to be leaving the fate of my career in the hands of Mitchum.

He picked up his suitcase and made for the door, "Logan, I've got to run. Send me the specs for the Sun, we need to get moving on that."

I saw a hint of satisfaction on Logan's face. Not only was Mitchum helping me, he's also mostly off the hook for a gratuitous meeting with his father.

Mitchum was almost at Charlene's desk when he stopped and turned back into the office, "Almost forgot, your mother told me to remind you about Friday. Black tie, be on time, something about a photo."

Friday. Ugh, just when I thought this was a relatively painless visit, he hits us with that one. I had all but forgotten about the Benefit with everything else going on. I let out an audible groan once Logan had closed the door behind him.

"You alright there, Ace?"

"No." I was utterly defeated, and Logan could see it. He pulled me up into a hug while I rattled off the list of reasons why I was not okay. "I just got fired, the fate of my career is somehow once again in the hands of your father, and now we have to go to this thing…" He leaned up against the front of his desk and pulled me up from my chair, wrapping his arms around me. "...and I have no idea what I'm going to wear."

The desperate tone in which I had muttered my last complaint must have tickled Logan's funny bone because he let out a laugh, "Ace, you could wear anything and look great… and look on the bright side. You have plenty of time to shop now."

Really? He's joking already. I made a feeble effort to push myself away from him, but he wrapped me up tighter. Honestly this was the best I'd felt all day, even in spite of the teasing. "I'm sorry, but really, try not to stress too much. Mitchum must think you've got a good case, plus…" he reached back for the paper on his desk, "it wasn't all bad news today."

I nodded, I had been very excited about that for about 30 seconds before everything came tumbling down. I need to get a hold of Dominic. What I really need to do is let my mom know. She's going to kill me if I keep this from her.

Our prolonged embrace was finally interrupted by Carlene knocking gently on the door, "Logan, Portland is waiting on line 2."

Logan reluctantly sat back on his desk. He pushed the button for line two, gave a quick greeting and let them know he'd be with them in a minute.

I grabbed my bag and was heading toward the door as Logan put Portland back on hold, he took my hand,"See you at home?"

"Uhm…" I need to fill my mom in, and this was definitely a conversation to have in person, "I think I'm going to head home-home."

"Stars Hollow?" I nodded, thankfully I think he understood. He kissed me, "Call me if you need anything." Another nod; and then he added with the utmost sincerity, "I love you."

"I love you too."

** I do not own any characters or content related to Gilmore Girls or any other entities mentioned. **

A/N - Thank you, thank you for all of the love upon my long awaited return. I've got a few more chapters laid out, so we'll see where this goes…

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