Chapter Three
Naomi Shorpshire spoke with her hands. They set the tone of the conversation, the deft movements becoming more frantic as she grew excited, slower when she ruminated. Sometimes, they served as punctuation. A swift palm down on the table at the end of a phrase startled both Rory and the table next to them in the ornate dining room.
"You know it's a good night when you end up stark naked in a fountain," Naomi announced, giving Rory a cheeky grin before she flagged down the waiter for a bottle of champagne. They had already finished one – Rory sipping at her one glass while Naomi topped off her own glass repeatedly. Even after all of their time together, Rory still couldn't tell if the alcohol actually affected Naomi. She had a personality that read half-drunk.
"Tell me, Rory, have you ever ended up in a fountain?" Naomi asked.
Rory shook her head. "I can't say that I have."
Naomi grasped Rory's hand. "Darling, you haven't lived. The freedom!"
"I'll add it to my to-do list," Rory said.
"Please, do darling. You won't regret it." The waiter brought over their champagne and uncorked it, pouring them each a glass. Naomi immediately swallowed a large mouthful and then wistfully said, "I always end up in a fountain when I'm in love. You've been in love, haven't you?"
Rory nodded. "Sure."
Naomi made a face and set down her champagne flute. "Well, that wasn't a very convincing answer."
"Why don't we go back to talking about your time in France?"
"No, we're continuing with this. I sense something you need to get off your chest."
"There's nothing I need to get off my chest. I promise you, my chest is something-less."
Naomi leaned forward and emphatically said, "Darling, you are repressing! I can see it!"
Rory wanted to write off Naomi as an overly involved lush – which, she often was – but here, she was annoyingly on point. Rory had started seeing Logan during her trips to London for their interviews, and it had left her with an increasing sense of confusion, and longing. In the beginning, she could pretend that her feelings were a remnant of the past, but that excuse was becoming harder to digest. This trip had been last minute, so she asked to stay in the spare room at his apartment, a decision she was already regretting.
"If I admit that there's someone and it's complicated, can we move on?" Rory asked gingerly.
Naomi studied Rory's face for a long beat before she said, "Yes. But, you should tell him. Life is too short, darling."
Rory called Lorelai on her walk down to Logan's apartment, shading her eyes with one hand as the phone rang. Lorelai answered with a chirpy, "Is this my globe-trotting daughter?"
"Hi Mom."
"Have you met Prince Harry yet?"
Rory grinned, stopping at a street corner to wait out the light. "You know, you don't just run into royalty here."
"You clearly are not going to the right places. How was your lunch with Naomi?"
Rory sighed. "Well, she got drunk and I got nowhere closer to getting a first draft on the book."
"I'm sorry, babe. Maybe you can write a book about your lunches to write the book?"
"At this point, I don't know what else I could write." Rory took a deep breath. "Anything good happening at home?"
"Well, it depends on how you define good," Lorelai said. "Kirk's started vlogging and films himself walking around town, which, of course, means he isn't watching where he's walking. He's almost been hit by a car twice."
"The price of creativity."
"Hey, can you bring me home one of those coffee mugs you told me about at your hotel's gift shop?"
"You don't need more coffee mugs," Luke piped in from the background.
"Uh, yes, I do."
"We already have too many. And then you still use the exact same one every day."
"I'm actually not staying at the hotel this time," Rory interjected.
"You're not?" Lorelai asked with surprise. "But you always stay at that hotel."
"They were already filled up by the time I booked this trip," Rory said. She considered telling Lorelai that she was staying with Logan, but there was too much to explain that she didn't fully understand herself, so she went with her preplanned lie. "I'm staying with my friend, DeeDee."
"Who would anyone name their kid that?" Luke asked incredulously.
"Having grown up amongst Bunnys and Lemons, I'm not surprised," Lorelai said. "But, I haven't heard about a DeeDee before. How do you know her?"
"I met her one of my prior freelance assignments," Rory said vaguely. She turned onto Logan's street. "Anyway, I have to go."
"Alright, love you, babe. Thanks for checking in."
"Bye Mom."
"Bye, hun. Tell DeeDee I say hi!"
Rory walked past a row of well-manicured hedges before turning into the revolving door at the entry of Logan's building. She gave his doorman a small wave and he said, "Good afternoon, Ms. Gilmore."
It still surprised her whenever he addressed her by name, but Logan assured her that it was a quirk of the elderly man – not an indication she had been there too often. She took the elevator up to the twentieth floor and walked over to 20G, using the spare key Logan had given her.
Logan was sprawled out on the couch when she came in, his laptop on his lap and phone pressed to his ear as he argued with someone in heavily accented French. She walked past him into the kitchen, depositing her bag onto the kitchen island. She sat down on a stool and slid her notebook out of her bag, staring at the jumble of notes from her lunch.
"Sorry about that," Logan said, clicking out of his phone call.
"I didn't know you speak French," Rory said.
"I barely do," he said. "I knew just enough there to say, you messed up, and, fix it. How was your lunch with Naomi?"
Rory swiveled the stool around to face him. "Well, I learned that when she is in love she ends up naked in a fountain."
"Don't we all, Ace?"
He started using the nickname again a few weeks back. She liked it, but would never tell him.
"She insisted I come out here and I feel like all I am getting for the book is filler."
Logan closed his laptop. "It sounds like you need a drink."
"I just came from drinks."
"You were working, which means you probably had one drink or less."
She shrugged, because he wasn't wrong. He came into the kitchen and opened up a cabinet, unearthing a bottle of something strong from the back. He grabbed them each a glass and poured two fingers.
"To your book," Logan said.
"If it ever actually gets written."
"It will," Logan said. "If anyone can make a book out of naked fountain trips, it's you, Ace."
She smiled slightly and clinked her glass against his before taking a sip. She peered at him over the rim, feeling the familiar pull at the base of her stomach. All at once, she didn't want to feel anymore, or maybe drink enough, that the feelings wouldn't matter. She drained her drink and held it out to Logan. He smiled slightly before adding another splash.
"Looks like we're day drinking, huh?" he said.
"Looks like we are."
They drank a lot. Too much. Somewhere between a forgotten pizza order and a second bottle of something that probably shouldn't have been mixed with the first, boundaries had dissolved. They were stretched out on the couch watching some British comedy, her legs propped on his lap. His hand closed around her ankle, thumb absentmindedly running along the arch of her foot. It was how they used to watch shows before.
At some point, Rory fell asleep, and when she woke up there was a blanket over her. She expected Logan to have gone to his room, but he was still on the other end of the couch, an arm casually thrown over her legs. It occurred to her that he had to have gotten up at some point for the blanket and then put her legs back on his lap. Her head was pounding, but somehow, she had never felt more content. She didn't want to move, to disturb this blissfully perfect moment, but she needed more. Without thinking about it too much, she sat up, her movements waking Logan up. He looked at her with confusion as she leaned in and kissed him. She didn't know how he would react, but was relieved when he kissed her back immediately, his arm sliding around her waist and pulling her closer. After a moment, he pulled away, breath ragged as he said, "Are you sure about this?"
He was giving her an out. A moment to reconsider. If anything, that made her mind up more, and she lifted herself up and settled on his lap, her decision clear. Without another word, he kissed her.
A/N: Please let me know if you enjoyed this!