Chapter Six

2014

The things he did for this woman…

Logan had always been known for pampering the women that he dated. He sent them flowers. He bought them gifts. He took them to the best restaurants, opened car doors, walked on the street side of the sidewalk. He went out of his way to be a gentleman, no matter who it was resting on his arm at any given moment. He put the effort in, and he did it without complaint.

But there was effort... and then there was the airport.

There was only one woman that he'd ever willingly gone to the airport for. Not even his sister got that kind of treatment. Not even his mother - the woman who had suffered through thirteen hours of labor with him. He was grateful for it, but not that grateful. Both of them were perfectly content with getting a town car, or maybe a limo. And he was happy for it, because that was all they were ever going to get from him.

One woman and one woman alone was enough for him to brave the journey to Heathrow. The hour long drive. The maddening London traffic. The hunt for a parking spot. The frustrating shuffle through the masses of people inside the terminal, ninety percent of which were carrying massive bags and had no idea what they were doing, where they were, or where they were going. The mile long lines at Costa, making it so that you couldn't even pass the time from the inevitable delays with a nice cup of coffee.

He'd been standing at the international arrivals gate for about twenty-five minutes at this point, the only updates about her whereabouts being what he was seeing on the screens overhead. It was a surprise after all. She was expecting the Huntzberger treatment, a personal chauffeur standing there waiting for her with her name written across a card. She wasn't, however, expecting the Huntzberger. Which made the situation all the more worth it.

As a new flock of people suddenly started making their way through the door, Logan perked up. He adjusted the black chauffeur cap on his head and lifted the piece of HPG stationary that he'd furiously scribbled the name 'Ace' onto before leaving the office up to his chest. A few moments passed without any sign of her face, and he was just about to resign himself yet again to the fact that she wasn't about to turn the corner, when he suddenly saw her.

She was dressed in a pair of comfortable black leggings and a loose army green tunic with roll tab sleeves. Her shoulder length hair was tied up in a wavy brown pony tail and her feet were wrapped in a pair of basic black canvas slip ons. Still, even with as casual and worn out from traveling as she looked, he didn't think he'd ever seen a prettier sight.

A smile broke onto his face instantly as he saw her, and it was soon returned as her eyes scanned the crowd of people, landed on her name written across the piece of paper in his hands, and eventually traveled up to see his face. The moment their eyes met, she started picking up the pace, suddenly energized at the sight of him. She hustled as fast as she could around the guardrail with her luggage trailing behind her, and Logan did her the favor of meeting her halfway.

"Are you Miss Gilmore?" he asked, cheekily.

"Why, yes sir, I am." she said as she let go of her bags and greeted him with a tight embrace. Logan returned the gesture, wrapping her up in his arms as she shot up on her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss on his lips.

"I hope this isn't inappropriate…." she said as she broke away. "It's just that I've never been sent such a handsome chauffeur before."

"It's part of our premium service," said Logan.

"Oh, well…" she said. "It's a good thing The Huntzberger Publishing Group doesn't cut corners then."

"Oh, trust me, they do," said Logan with a smirk. "It's just that you're a VIP."

"Me?" Rory asked, bringing her hand to her chest in a faux gesture of surprise. "A VIP? How flattering."

"That's right," said Logan, moving to grab the handle of both her suitcase and her carry on. "For you we roll out all the stops."

"I should say so…" Rory said as Logan tugged on the bags behind him and started making his way toward the parking garage. She fell in step beside him, and they made their way through the crowd, eventually dropping their little game as they went.

"How was your flight?" Logan asked, seriously.

"It was okay," she answered with a shrug. "I had an aisle seat, and the in-flight meal was pasta. So, I didn't have to suffer through any rubbery chicken."

"Well I thought we'd do take-out from that Indian place on Lincoln for dinner. If that sounds good to you."

"That sounds amazing," Rory agreed, enthusiastically.

They made their way through the airport, taking their time to catch up as they moved. More than once, Rory attempted to let him know that she could wheel one of her bags to the car herself, but he was stubborn. He knew he was old fashioned, but he would never let a girl carry a suitcase in his presence to begin with, especially not his girl. And especially not when she was exhausted from an eight hour transatlantic flight. He refused to let either one of them go until they came to a stop right in front of his car.

"You brought a Range Rover?" Rory asked, clearly surprised to see the midsize SUV rather than his standard Porsche Cayman.

"To pick up a Gilmore from the airport?" he asked, playfully. "What, do you think I'm an idiot? There's no accounting for how much luggage you might have brought with you. I didn't want to make two trips. "

"Ha ha," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him a bit as he popped open the trunk of the vehicle and started loading her suitcases inside.

"Last time I picked you up from Heathrow you had two checked bags, a carry on, and a backpack."

"It was Christmas. I had your presents in the backpack!" she defended. Logan smiled in amusement, and bit back a retort about how that didn't explain why she needed two checked bags. "I had to pack for three different cities. It's a lot warmer in Rome in December than it is in London, you know."

"It's not that much warmer."

"Plus that was a different time," Rory continued. "I was twenty-two. Young. Naive. It was before I became the well traveled creature standing before you now. Now, I'm a regular George Clooney. All I need is my trusty carryon, a couple interchangeable day to night outfits, and a pair of slip-on shoes."

"Oh, is that what you've got in here?" Logan asked with a grunt as he heaved her thirty inch purple suitcase into his trunk. Though, in her defense there was only one this time.

"Well this is different. This time I'm not packing just for business. I'm also packing for pleasure," she said.

Logan smirked as he reached up to pull the trunk door closed. He then turned toward her, the smile on his face only widening as he looked her over once again. She still took his breath away, even after eight hours stuck in a tin can over the Atlantic. In coach. He'd probably look like the walking dead if he ever had to suffer through sitting in coach.

"Pleasure, huh?" he asked.

He reached his arm out to her, slipping his hand around her waist and pulling her closer to him. Rory let him without any reservation. She threw her arms around his neck and looked up at him with a bright smile.

"Well, I certainly hope so…" she said as she started playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

Logan didn't answer her. He simply kept the smile glued on his face as he leaned down to kiss her in the middle of the parking garage. Behind him, he could hear the sound of cars driving past them and people rolling their luggage down the aisle toward their parked vehicles, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't want this moment to end, at least not without the promise of something even better.

"Come on," he said as his lips eventually pulled away from hers. "Let's get you back to my place so we can get started on that pleasure part."

"Ah, yes. The Indian food…" Rory replied. "Can't wait."

Logan shook his head and started to pull away from her. Although, the smile that had been plastered on his face since the moment he'd seen her walk through the gate remained firmly in place.

"You really know how to bruise a guy's ego? You know that?"

"So I've heard," said Rory, cheekily.

She dropped her hands from his neck, and as they separated they found themselves both moving awkwardly to the right side of the car. They both took a single step and froze, looking at each other as if asking what the other was doing. And in a moment of clarity, another amused smile broke out on Logan's face.

"Wrong side, Ace," he said.

"Oh shoot," said Rory as a look of embarrassed realization dawned over her features. "I forgot."

"That's okay," he said, twitching a flirtatious eyebrow. "You can sit on my lap if you want."

Rory rolled her eyes. She spun on her heel and started making her way to the passenger side of the car, Logan pressing on the keyfob to unlock the front doors as she walked.

"I think the MPS would frown on that," she said as they both opened their respective doors and slid into the vehicle. And then, once seated, she leaned across the center console and placed another chase kiss on his lips. "I'll take a raincheck though."

"I think that can be arranged," he replied before reaching into his pocket and handing her his unlocked phone. "Here… You're charge of the music."

2036

Ace

️

He took a deep breath as he continued to stare at the name in his phone. Still in there after all these years. Still sitting so close to the top of his contacts list. Of course, he had no idea of knowing if it was still her number. Twenty years was a long time. It was a long time to go without calling. A long time to keep an unused contact in his phonebook, but he didn't really want to think about the implications of that too much right now.

There was no telling how long his thumb had been hovering over the name, too afraid to actually make a move. He knew he was going to have to eventually. He knew the time would come, and soon, when he wouldn't be able to put this off any longer. At the moment, however, he was too far at a loss to bring himself to do it.

What would he say when he did? How would he react? Would he be cold and stoic? Would he scream and yell? Would he break down into tears? At the moment, he felt like the latter was the most likely. And he really didn't want the latter to be the most likely. He wanted to scream and yell. He wanted to curse at her. He wanted to reduce her to tears. To hurt her the way she'd hurt him by doing this to him. Yet, despite the anger and the rage, the resentment and the disgust, he knew that the moment he heard her voice on the other side of the phone, he would break down into tears.

He couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she'd hurt him. Somehow she seemed to get better and better at it with age. First when she'd given the ring back to him. And then when she'd given the key back to him. And now this.

This was a whole new level of hurt.

"Hi."

The sound of the voice startled him. He'd been so lost in his phone screen, that he hadn't heard her sneak into the great room. His heart started pounding when he turned to look at her, a somewhat predictable reaction at this point. It seemed to happen every time he found himself in a room with her. It was a feeling he wasn't entirely used to. Logan had never been one to feel nervous around other people. But then he'd never been in this situation before either, so perhaps he shouldn't be too hard on himself.

"Hi," he replied, quickly locking his phone screen.

He slid the device in his pocket as he stood up from the armchair he'd been seated in and walked toward her. From the looks of it, she seemed just as nervous and unsure of herself as he was. She was dressed in the same clothes from the night before - the only clothes she had with her at the moment - but her long blonde hair was hanging down her back, still half wet from the shower she'd just taken.

"Hi," she repeated before clamming up entirely. They stood there for a moment awkwardly, just feet from each other, neither one of them knowing where to take the conversation from there. Logan, however, realizing he was the adult, knew that the burden of making her feel comfortable fell squarely on his shoulders.

"Are you ready?" he asked, smiling at her and doing his best to hide any evidence of discomfort in his tone. Riley nodded at him in response.

"Yeah…" she said. "I'm ready."

Logan led her through the great room, down the hallway leading to the utility room, and then into the garage. He opened the door for her, gesturing for her to go ahead while he grabbed his keys off a hook hanging from the wall. He followed her down the couple of steps into the garage , but stopped abruptly when he realized that she was standing in place on the right side of his black Model S.

"Other side," he said with a twitch of his lips into an amused smile.

"Wh - what?" Riley asked, her eyes suddenly wide with nerves and confusion.

"The passenger seat is on the other side," Logan clarified with a smirk. "Unless you want to drive."

"Oh! No. No. I don't want to drive your car. I just… I didn't… I forgot."

"That's okay," said Logan, trying to forge off what looked to be a genuine moment of panic in her eyes. Of course, he'd only been teasing her. But then… he supposed she had no way of knowing that.

"I knew that!" she continued. "I just…"

"It takes a while to get used to," Logan replied with a patient nod. He knew that better than most. It had taken him years to stop wandering over to the left side of the car when he was distracted by something, only to remember when he opened the door that the steering wheel was on the other side.

Riley walked around the back of the car and opened the passenger door. They both slipped into their seats and another silence fell between them as they fastened their seatbelts. Logan started the engine, grabbed his sunglasses from inside the armrest, and pressed a button to open the garage door, the silence continuing as they waited for the door to open. That is until Riley broke it with an emphatic declaration.

"I'm not stupid!" she said, the words bursting out of her in a spontaneous and loud exclamation.

Logan turned to look at her, though he was at a complete loss as to how to respond.

"I know that the driver's seat is on the other side here. I just forgot for a second," she continued. "I don't want you think I'm stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Logan said, soberly. How could he? It would be near impossible for anyone who came from Rory Gilmore to be stupid.

"It's just last night with the passport and the fence… and then now... I don't want you to think I'm stupid," she repeated.

Logan took a deep breath as he looked at the expression of pure dismay on her face. The feeling of self hatred came rushing back to him in full force. In the course of his seventeen - or apparently nineteen years - of being a father, there had been plenty of times when he'd felt like a complete and utter failure. But, he had to admit this time might be at the top.

He knew his behavior last night would come back to haunt him. He knew his temper had gotten the best of him at the absolute worst time. And now he'd officially made an extremely precarious situation all the more difficult. Forging a relationship with her was going to be hard enough to begin with, and now he had to account for the fact that she thought he considered her an idiot because he couldn't keep his emotions in check and his mouth closed.

"I just want you to like me," said Riley, softly. She looked down at her lap where she was picking at her fingernails, and Logan felt his heart breaking at the sight of her shy trepidation.

"I already like you," he said, hoping to convey the sincerity of his words with his somber tone. "You don't have to worry about that."

Her blue eyes flickered up at him for the briefest of moments before succumbing once again to the ever present awkwardness and returning to her hands. Logan couldn't help but wonder how they would ever get past it. Time was likely the only solution, but there was no way of knowing how much time it would take for them to be comfortable around each other. These were entirely uncharted waters afterall. But he supposed the only way to speed it up was to make an effort to get to know each other.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone again and unlocking the screen. He brought up his music app and handed it to her, noting the look of surprise on her face as he did.

"Here," he said. "Why don't you pick something to listen to."

She took the phone somewhat reluctantly, and Logan started backing out of the driveway. The familiar silence settled over them again for a while as Riley nervously flicked through his phone. She was clearly struggling, probably assuming that he was giving her some kind of test. That she would be judged, weighed, and measured by whatever selection she chose.

That hadn't been his intention at all. He just wanted to know what she listened to - what kind of music she liked. He assumed he'd probably dislike it. He disliked most of the music written after 2025. That was the point at which he'd given up and fully embraced his decline into becoming a crotchety old man, constantly complaining about the noise kids called music these days. But at the moment he was more concerned with her comfort than his, and he'd happily listen to noise for the rest of the day if that's what she wanted. The last thing he was interested in was judging or belittling her for it.

When the sound of music eventually did fill the air, it hadn't been what he expected at all. Though maybe he should have. She was Rory's daughter after all. He smiled when the melodic and iconic opening bass riff of 'Come Together' started playing, but when he looked over at Riley, her face was still buried in his phone.

"Have you been?" he asked. She only gave him another look of pure confusion in response.

"To Abbey Road," he clarified.

"Oh," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "No… I haven't really been anywhere. Except…here."

She looked out the windows of the car just as they passed the entrance to The Kenwood house on the B519. It seemed a little strange to him. A girl of her age coming to a city like London only to rush directly to the suburbs. He'd assumed that she'd done some wandering first, gotten to know the city a bit. But, it seemed like she'd checked into her hostel - the idea still made him cringe - only to hop on a train directly to him.

"Well… The Hampstead Garden Suburb is nice. But it's not really London," he said. "At least not the London a girl your age is interested in seeing."

In truth, it wasn't really the London he was interested in seeing either, but over the years he had learned to have a new appreciation for his father's oft quoted piece of wisdom: 'happy wife, happy life.' The moment Odette got pregnant, her patience for living in his nice but cramped Chelsea apartment completely ran out. And as hard as he'd tried to push for a Belgravia townhouse or a place a little closer to central London in St. John's Wood or Primrose Hill, Odette wasn't having it. She wanted something big. She wanted space. She wanted quiet. She wanted something that reminded her of her parents' home in Cannes - minus the beach. She'd thankfully settled for the pool, even if it was in the basement.

"We could drive through there if you want," he said. "On the way back. It's a little out of the way, but you can see a bit more of the city."

"That's okay…I don't want you to have to go out of your way," she said before her eyes suddenly went wide and her back straightened as if just realizing something for the first time. "Wait...It's Friday. Aren't you supposed to be at work or something today?"

"I took the day off," he said. "I thought that was appropriate, considering the...circumstances."

"You didn't have to take off work for me!" she insisted. "I would have been fine. I could have gotten my stuff on my own!"

"Riley…"

Logan started. He was starting to get a little bit worried about this persistent personality trait of hers. Of not wanting to be a burden. It was one thing to be considerate of other people, but it was another thing to constantly apologize for taking up space in the world. It definitely wasn't a trait that she'd gotten from him. Though, Rory often suffered from the same affliction. He'd always attributed it to her being the unplanned child of a young single mother, to her needing to prove to herself and others that her existence wasn't a burden on those around her. He wasn't sure where Riley came about it, but he couldn't help but assume that the situation might be somewhat similar.

"Don't you have a super important job?" she asked. "You shouldn't have to put that on hold for me. I didn't want - "

"Riley," Logan interrupted. "My work can wait. It will be there on Monday. And it's flattering that you think I'd be able to work at a time like this. But, trust me, I'm not that talented. I just found out I have a daughter. I need a little time to process this before I can focus on anything else."

It was the first time either one of them had said the words out loud, and the gravity of the moment wasn't lost on either of them. A hush fell over the car for a few seconds, but it was eventually broken by a soft declaration from Riley.

"I didn't want to uproot your life…" she said. She turned to look out the window, and Logan's brow furrowed in confusion as he alternated between watching her and watching the road in front of him.

He wasn't sure how she could think that coming here and knocking on his door would do anything but uproot his life. But, then, he also wasn't sure what Riley thought about him - what Rory had said about him over the years. He wasn't sure if she knew anything about him at all. Maybe she wasn't expecting anything more than a cold shoulder or a door slammed in her face. He liked to think that the people who knew him would know that he would never do that. He liked to think that Rory knew he would never do that, that she would say as much to their daughter. But, if the last twenty-four hours had taught him anything, it was that he didn't actually know what Rory Gilmore was capable of at all.

"Well…" he said, cutting his thoughts of Rory off before they started going down a rabbit hole he didn't want to get lost in at the moment. "Can I ask then...what exactly you did want?"

"I dunno," she answered with a shrug. "I just wanted to see you I guess…"

"Well, you've seen me," said Logan. "And if it's alright with you, I'd like to spend some more time getting to know you. So far I'm a little at a loss. Other than the fact that you're blonde and you go to Yale and you share a similar taste in music with my mother."

Riley looked at him strangely for a moment, as if she wasn't quite sure if she should be insulted by the comment or not. Logan wasn't sure what to think. Did Rory tell her enough about his family for her to be offended at the comparison, or was she simply worried that he was making some comment about her older music selection? Either way, he hadn't meant it as an insult. It was just an observation.

"The Beatles are her favorite band," he explained. "Though, she was a child of the sixties. So, in her case it makes more sense. I'm kind of surprised you even know who The Beatles are."

"My step - " Riley cut herself off.

A sad and solemn look passed over her face as she did, mirroring the feeling that was settling in Logan's stomach at the first half of that word. He knew what was coming. Her step-father. The man who had clearly been more of a father figure in her life than he was - than he was ever given the chance to be. He wasn't foolish enough to think that Rory hadn't moved on over the years, that she hadn't found someone to spend her life with. But the idea that some other man had gotten to watch his little girl grow up while he was halfway around the world entirely ignorant to her existence… that was almost too much for him to take.

"My mom's ex… he was into music and stuff. And my Aunt Lane. She's my mom's best friend."

"I know."

Once again, he was left wondering just how much Rory had told her about him. He'd thought surely she'd realize that he knew who Lane was. They'd never been particularly close, but from Rory's endless stories about her it felt like they themselves could have been best friends from all he knew about her. It made him wonder just what Riley thought about his relationship with Rory. How much she knew. If she knew anything.

"Riley," he said again, turning to look over at her for a moment. "I need to know… does your mother know that you're here?"

She looked ashamed at the question, and her attention was drawn once again to the hands in her lap.

"She knows I'm in London…" she answered, meekly.

"But she doesn't know that you came to see me?" he asked. Riley was struck quiet for a few moments, but eventually she admitted the truth to him.

"I don't think she even knows that I know who you are."

Thathe hadn't been expecting.

He wasn't sure which was worse, finding out that Rory had kept the existence of their daughter from him for twenty years, or finding out that Rory hadn't even told her the slightest thing about him. It was as if she'd erased him from her life completely. Like she didn't want him to have anything to do with her. She didn't even want her to know his name.

"She told me that you met in college. And that you had a thing a few years later before I was born. But she never told me who you were. I only know cause I found some old things in a box of hers - pictures and stuff - and I pieced things together. The timing was right and… and you kind of look like me. I mean I look like you, I guess."

"Yeah…You do, don't you?" said Logan, softly. Their eyes met for a brief moment, but it didn't seem like Riley was all that comfortable staying in the feeling between them for very long.

"Anyway…" she continued, breaking their gaze. "About a month ago we were visiting my Great-grandma Emily and I saw the card she wrote in the mail and I … Since I had your address, I wanted to come see you. And I told my mom that I was thinking about enrolling in the Oxford/Yale program and that I wanted to use the money my grandpa gave me for my Chilton graduation last year to come to London."

"You went to Chilton?" he asked. It was probably the least important detail in that story, but he couldn't help but soak up every single piece of information about her that he possibly could. "That's a good school."

"Yeah…" said Riley. "My mom teaches there, so the tuition was free… She went there too. She was the valedictorian."

"I know," said Logan.

He knew that she went to Chilton. That she was the valedictorian. That her best friend was Lane. He knew plenty more about her too, more than perhaps Riley even knew herself. But, Riley apparently had no way of knowing that.

A thing, she'd said. Her mother told her that they'd had 'a thing.'

"Riley…" he said. "You know that… I'm going to have to tell her..."

Apparently, that was the last thing she wanted to hear. She turned to look at him, her eyes popping open in utter horror. She looked for a moment as if she was going to beg him not to, to go along with her plan and continue hiding this from her. But, eventually, she slumped back into her seat in surrender, coming to the realization that fighting it was hopeless.

"I have to talk to her," he continued. "She hid the fact that you existed from me for twenty years. I need to talk to her about that. And I also can't let you keep her in the dark. I'm your father. I can't help you lie to your mother. You realize that, right?"

She didn't answer him. Her gaze was planted firmly out of her window, watching as the houses and storefronts lining the Highgate High Street passed by them in a blur as they moved down the road.

"You could tell her yourself…" he said. "But I'm still going to have to talk to her eventually. And soon..."

Part of him felt like he was making that statement almost as much for his own benefit as her's. Their time in the car hadn't brought him any closer to an epiphany about how to navigate that conversation, and it still wasn't something that he was looking forward to doing in any way whatsoever. But he knew it had to be done.

Yet, with his statement came the end of their conversation for the rest of the trip to her hostel. It was an unfortunate turn of events. Though, Logan couldn't bring himself to regret saying the words. It was a comfort to not have the subject hanging over them any longer. And at least she wouldn't feel blindsided when he eventually did end up making the phone call.

Once they arrived at their destination, Logan found a parking spot about a block down the road, somehow managing to keep his mouth closed regarding the dilapidated and dirty state of the street. They climbed out of the car, Logan following her quietly as she led him into the small building where she had been planning to stay for the duration of her trip.

He had to admit, it was nicer than he was expecting at the very least. It was clean. There was a funky youthful sort of feel to the place, a nice little coffee bar off to the side, and a gaggle of young people sitting talking in the lounge area. He could see how the place possibly would have appealed to him in theory when he was nineteen-years-old. Though, the beds at The Dorchester appealed to him far more - even then

"I'll be right back," said Riley.

"I'll be here," he replied.

She slipped away from him, making her way toward the stairs up into what he assumed were the living quarters and leaving him alone to look around the place. The group of kids off to his right were throwing him strange looks as he paced around, clearly not expecting to see some rich dad type standing in their common area. It was a slight blow to his ego, but not a big enough one to make him genuinely upset. At fifty-four, he was perfectly aware of his rich dad aura, and honestly he hadn't expected to find himself standing in a lobby like this any time soon either.

Whatever blow to the ego the looks did give him, it was quickly soothed by the sound of some giggles coming from a few of the girls as they kept sneaking looks in his direction. He tamped down a smirk at the sound, but there was no denying it made him feel good. If he had to be a rich dad type, at least he was still a hot rich dad type. A certified dilf. He'd take that as a win for the day. Apparently, the laps he'd been swimming every morning were paying off.

"I'm ready."

At the sound of Riley's voice, Logan finally stopped idly walking around. He turned to look over at her once again, and try as he might he couldn't keep the laugh from bubbling up in his throat as he did.

"What?" Riley asked, completely thrown off by his reaction to her reappearance.

She was standing by the front desk, a backpack perched on her back, a carryon sized duffel strapped over her chest, and a massive - and familiar - thirty inch purple suitcase standing on the ground to her left.

"Nothing. I just…" he started. "Where did you find room for all of that stuff in a place like this?"

"It fits in the locker under the bed!" she defended, her voice rising in a way that reminded him so much of Rory that it almost hurt to hear, in a way that implied she'd already had this argument before. "I measured it before I booked this place!"

"Okay, okay…" he said, the laughter still laced throughout his tone. He walked toward her, reaching a hand out for the duffel which he threw over his shoulder and grabbing the handle of the rolling suitcase in his right.

"I can carry my own bags…" she said as they started making their way back out the door.

"You're a lady," he said, his voice suddenly possessed by the spirit of his father arguing with a teenaged Honor as they stood in various hotel lobbies around the world. "You don't carry your bags."

TBC...

AN: Hey guys! First things first, Mitchum is not dead yet. I just felt with that last line there might be some confusion.. I meant it more as like… The Spirit of Ski Vacations Past. Not like… the actual ghost of his dead father. Lol.

I know a lot of you are just chomping at the bit for the inevitable Logan/Rory confrontation, and I promise it IS coming soon. But, I can't rush things. I need to give Logan and Riley some breathing room before I jump right into that. I want to give them a small chance to get to know each other before Rory finds out.

Also, as a general disclaimer, this fic is really hard to write. So, honestly, it might take me a little longer than average to get updates posted. I'll still try my best to stick to a weekly schedule at the very least, but there is just a lot of complicated emotions and situations I'm dealing with and it's taking me a while to get it out on paper.

I hope this chapter answered some of your questions about Rory and Riley and what both of them know about the other… the answer as you can see is not much.

Please review! I can't tell you how much of a difference a single review makes in motivating me to get things out quicker.