Logan ran his hand distractedly along the mantle of the fireplace, examining the family photos as Honor retrieved him a glass of iced tea. There were the typical staged photos they'd paid a photographer an undoubtedly obscene amount of money for—standing in front of this very fireplace; in the front of the house; by some random tree in the backyard. But there were a few candid shots as well—one of Ethan in his lacrosse uniform smashing an ice cream cone into his face after a game; one of Grace building a sand castle on the beach; Honor and Josh sharing a kiss. And one of him—Logan—rough housing with kids at the Vineyard. He loved the little rugrats, he'd admit without shame. Being an uncle was fun. Being a father, that was an image he still hadn't come to terms with. He figured it would happen one day, it was what was expected. But if that day had been in his near future, it wasn't anymore. He had to get married. A fake marriage, to a woman he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life with. One he certainly wasn't going to have kids with. Which meant it would be at least two years before he could even think about that part of his life.

Not that he'd imagined getting married for real anytime soon. The only time he'd even considered it had been right after his graduation when he was dating his college girlfriend, Natalie. He'd spent his teen years rebelling against the idea of ever getting into a settled relationship. He wanted to have fun while he still could. But somehow, Natalie had managed to worm her way in. His mother had hated her, which only made Logan like her more. But Mitchum actually seemed to approve of her. He clearly approved of the way Logan had been when he was with her. It was why he'd made this stupid clause to begin with—to manipulate Logan into becoming that committed, responsible person again—the one he was when he was with Natalie.

He supposed a part of him even understood his father. Logan had been a mess when she'd left him for graduate school in Switzerland. He'd barely showed up to work for six months. He'd spent most of his days drunk or high. He'd finally gotten over her—at least enough to get back to the office and start making a name for himself throughout the company—but he'd kept a tiny part of his heart closed off, choosing instead to go back to his old partying and sleeping around ways. It was easier that way. Safer. But the truth was, he'd had a taste of what a real relationship could be and deep down, he'd liked it. And a part of him—one he'd never admit to Colin or Finn—had always imagined that he would one day find that again; a real relationship. With a woman he respected. One he could truly call his equal. Not one of those forced, miserable marriages that were only for show. But it looked like that was what he was going to get. At least for a couple years. Still, a little part of him was holding on to hope that maybe he could at least avoid the miserable part. Find a partner. Someone he enjoyed being around. Maybe a friend. A business arrangement with someone he liked. It wasn't true love, but it was only for a couple of years. Maybe after that he still had a chance to find the next Natalie.

"Here you go." Logan turned from the pictures to face his sister, taking the proffered beverage.

"Thanks."

"So," Honor motioned to one of the love seats. "Do you want to sit down and tell me what brought you to my neck of the woods this fine day?" She asked.

"I just…" Logan started and stalled, ignoring her offer to sit. He let his gaze fall to the floor for a moment before snapping back up to look at his sister. "What do you know about the Gilmores?" he blurted out. Logan wasn't one to hem and haw. He was here on an information gathering mission, so he might as well just come out and ask for it.

"Excuse me?"

"The Gilmores," he reiterated. "Richard and Emily. I know there's been a lot of gossip about them recently and if anyone is keeping up on their PageSix news, it's you. Well, actually, I guess there are plenty of people keeping up on their PageSix news or it wouldn't be news. But you're the only one I can trust not to turn me into PageSix news for asking."

"Umm, gee…thanks?" Honor replied uncertainly.

"What? It was a compliment," he insisted.

"Calling me a gossip is a compliment?"

"Calling you trustworthy is a compliment. You being a gossip is just a fact."

"Whatever." Honor rolled her eyes, plopping herself down on the settee even though Logan continued to stand. "Why are you asking about the Gilmores?"

Logan shrugged nonchalantly. "Just curious."

"Oh really?" Honor looked at him with a pointed eyebrow raise but Logan didn't say any more. When it became clear to her that her brother wasn't going to say any more until she spilled the tea, she let out a sigh and told him what she knew. "I guess the word is, Richard's retirement a few years ago from Henning-Styles wasn't completely voluntary. So, he decided to start his own insurance business. And he teamed up with Floyd Styles' son, Jason, to do it. Floyd has been hell bent on revenge ever since and he's been filing lawsuit after lawsuit to tank the new business. Also, Jason is dating Richard's daughter Lorelai—although I don't know if that came before or after the business partnership."

"And are they going to succeed?" Logan asked. "Richard and Jason," he clarified, "Not Lorelai and Jason."

Honor shrugged her shoulder and took a sip of her iced tea. "How should I know, I'm not a lawyer." This time it was Logan that gave the pointed eyebrow stare. The facial expression was clearly hereditary. Honor once again gave in and said some more. "Word on the street is Richard and Jason are all out of money. Savings accounts—gone. Pension—tapped. Stock options—wiped out. Next on the chopping block is Richard and Emily's house."

"Right." Logan nodded contemplatively, picking up a book off one of the bookshelves and pretending to examine the cover as though he didn't really care about this next part. "And how about their granddaughter?"

"Their granddaughter?" Honor asked. This time her confusion was real. "What does she have to do with anything? I don't even know if she got a trust fund. If she did, it was either a pittance, or she's not using it so I doubt she'll be of much help."

"Right, but I mean—they're close, right? They're like, one of those…happy…families or something?" Logan's face scrunched up in bafflement at the mere thought of it. He knew there were people out there who liked their parents and grandparents but he just couldn't fathom it. "Like…she'd help them if she could?"

"Umm, I guess." Honor shrugged.

"What else do you know about her?" he asked, looking up from the book he held to meet his sister's gaze.

Honor stared at her brother suspiciously for a moment, her Spidey sense tingling. What was he up to? She had a few theories churning around her in her brain and she didn't really like where any of them were leading.

"I know she works for the company," she reminded him. Any involvement with an employee outside of the purely professional was not a good look in this day and age.

"Right…right…" Logan nodded. "I know that. I ran into her a couple times at the Stamford office."

"And I know Mom thinks she's trash like her mother."

"Her mother is trash?" Logan asked with a scowl on his face

"Mom thinks she trash. Pregnant at sixteen…works for a living… And besides, you know how Mom is, she only cares about upward mobility. The Gilmores are on a pretty steep downward trajectory at the moment."

Logan shrugged. His mother didn't really bother him. If it were up to her, she'd arrange his marriage to the Fallon girl and expect them to be popping out babies before the year was up. She'd hate any woman she didn't personally pick out for him. And Logan would rather declare bankruptcy and go live in a shoebox apartment in Newark than marry any woman his mother picked out. As far as he was concerned, the less his mother liked a woman, the higher on his list she was.

"Is she seeing anyone?"

"Logan…" Honor replied in a warning tone. "Why the hell are you asking about Rory Gilmore? Is this just pleasure or…"

He swallowed, scratching his chin nervously. "I guess you could say this would fall under business and pleasure." Well, not pleasure in the strictly physical sense. Not that she wasn't pretty. She was. Pretty enough to be believable as his wife. And if circumstances were different, he wouldn't not be interested in that. But if he wanted this to be a long-ish term solution, they needed to keep things strictly platonic. He wasn't looking for a real wife; just someone who could play one on TV. There were plenty of women he could sleep with…he didn't need his wife for that.

Honor let out a disgruntled sigh. She hated being right sometimes, especially when it came to her brother. At least if he'd just wanted to screw the girl Honor could probably count on him coming to his senses and not doing anything to jeopardize the company. But this? This was more than an overactive libido. This was a plot. And when her brother started plotting, things could get dangerous. "Logan, no. Pick somebody else."

"Sure…any suggestions?"

"I don't know, how about someone who isn't employed by you?"

"But don't you see…that's part of what makes it so perfect."

"The fact that she can sue your ass—and the whole company—for sexual harassment?"

"Yes."

Honor was staring at him like he was having a psychotic break. And perhaps he was. But every time he tried to convince himself this was a bad idea, he somehow wound up more convinced it was the only idea. "Don't you see?" he continued to explain. "It's the perfect cover for the hasty engagement. We can just tell everyone that we've been dating for a while and kept it quiet to avoid the sexual harassment gossip. And since her grandparent's know Mom and Dad, we can tell people we met socially, not at work."

"Maybe," Honor bobbled her head back and forth as she considered her brother's only slightly ridiculous logic. "But that's only if she agrees to this. And that is a huge if."

"Her family is about to lose everything. And you said it yourself…she'd want to help her family if she could. This would be a mutually beneficial arrangement for both of us. Rory's smart, she'll see that." This part he wasn't so sure about. Yes, it was true that she was smart…graduating summa cum laude from Princeton proved that. But Logan knew that what he was asking for was bigger than just what was strategically smart. She could say 'no' no matter how good the deal was on paper. And he was willing to make it good. Still, it was a huge risk. Honor was right—if this backfired it could hurt the whole company. But if he lost the business it wouldn't exactly be stellar for their stock shares either. So, what did he really have to lose?

"And if she doesn't?"

Logan shrugged. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. But my gut is telling me this is the best solution. She's close enough to society to fit in, but far enough detached to not be mind-numbingly boring."

"Hey!" Honor protested at the implied insult.

Logan rolled his eyes. "I'm not talking about you," he clarified. "Just your friends." Honor glared in annoyance…a look he ignored as he continued to defend his choice of brides. "Look, she's a journalist so she understands the business. She's not actually interested in me so I wouldn't be leading her on and she'd have her own life so she wouldn't drive me mad about when I get home from the office or how much time I spend hanging out with Colin and Finn. We'd live parallel lives except when we need to be seen together and in those instances, I imagine we'd actually get along. We fake it for a couple of years and then we part amicably; I have the business and she gets to keep her grandparent's house and a boatload of money as laid out in the pre-nup. It's as perfect a solution as I can come up with that doesn't involve somehow magically finding a soul mate I don't believe exists and falling madly in love in the next four months."

Honor sighed. "You're going to do this no matter what I say, aren't you?"

Logan contemplated this for a moment before nodding his head. "Probably."

"Then why did you even come here?" she asked with exasperation.

"Because if there was anyone who could talk me out of it, it was you."

"When this all blows up in your face, don't say I didn't tell you so." Honor shook her head but the truth was, for all the worry and frustration and irritation she felt about this whole thing, if there was anyone who could pull it off, it was her brother. He could talk Elon Musk into embracing coal again if he wanted to. She just hoped he was listening to the gut that landed him the Batemacher deal and not the one that got his ass sued for patent infringement.

Lane shut the freezer door, walking around the small table that served to separate the kitchen area from the living room area. She plopped down on the couch next to Rory and handed her friend a pint of Chubby Hubby and a spoon while holding on to the Chunky Monkey for herself. She slipped off the top, depositing it on the coffee table and digging into the banana-y ice cream goodness.

"So…" she started hesitantly. "Are you staying in Stars Hollow this weekend?"

"Umm, actually I was thinking of staying here. Mom has been especially chatty the last few weekends and I could use a little peace and quiet to get some work done. Why? Do you need the place for band practice? I thought it was cancelled because Brian was going to Maine for his sister's wedding."

"Oh, he it is…he is. It's just..." Lane shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. "DaveaskedmetocometoNewYorkfortheweekend." She mumbled through the melting glop in her mouth.

"Oh my god, Lane, that's so exciting. Things must be going well for you two."

"They are. They are…" Lane nodded her head vigorously, to the point she was afraid she was going to be mistaken for a bobble head doll. But she couldn't help herself; her nerves were in charge at the moment. They had been since Dave had made the suggestion on the phone last night. So far all their dates had been here in Connecticut. It just made since seeing as his family was still in Hartford. He could crash at his parent's if he didn't want to go back to the city. And he could spend a little time with his brother and nephew too. But now he wanted her to come to him.

And it wasn't like Lane had anything against that in theory. She liked Manhattan. The band played gigs there on occasion. There were museums, and Central Park, and food that came from carts the mere thought of which would send her mother into a full-blown moral panic. And Dave had planned such a romantic day for them; a weekend matinee of The Girl From North Country on Broadway followed dinner at La Massaria and a show at The Bowery. It was all amazing. There was just one problem….

"Oooookay. Then why do you sound like you'd rather pass out face first in that Ben and Jerry's and suffocate on a walnut than spend a romantic weekend with your boyfriend? And now that we're bringing it up, you've been cagey on the Dave topic for a while now. What's up?"

"It's just well, going to the city would mean spending the night at his place."

"And?" Rory questioned. "He hasn't been pressuring you or anything, has he? Because it he has…" It didn't seem like Dave's style to be that way…at least not the Dave she'd known in high school, though people did change over time.

"No," Lane shook her head emphatically. "No, it's not…he's been a perfect gentleman. But well, I mean…spending the night at his place has…implications. He might expect…you know."

"Why would he expect 'you know'?" Rory asked. "He knows how you feel about that…" Lane's face dropped and Rory suddenly started to realize where this was going. "He does know, right?"

Lane but her lip, looking guilty.

"Lane, it's been over a month. What were you going to do, have a headache every night until you say your 'I do's?"

"It's just that, well, how do you bring that kind of thing up? It not even like I knew the last time we were dating. I wasn't even thinking about that yet. And now it's a decade later. And it's one thing to want to wait when you're 21 or 22 but I'm 27 now. I'm a freak."

"You are not a freak." Rory insisted.

"I am. I'm a freak. I'm a 27-year-old virgin freak. And Dave…Dave is so cool and worldly. He lives in Manhattan. He went to school at Berkley. He's got a cool job and he plays the guitar…"

"And you play the drums. And are in a band that's opened for the Arctic Monkeys. And you're smart and funny. You're a total catch. And Dave is a good guy. He'll understand."

"And what if he doesn't?"

"Well, then you'll find out that he's only pretending to be a good guy and is actually a big jerk and it's better to find that out sooner rather than later."

"I don't want to lose him again." Lane replied forlornly.

"You won't." Rory promised.

"You don't know that."

"No," Rory admitted. "I don't. But I believe it."

"Other guys have left before."

"Dave isn't other guys. This is the guy who stayed up all night reading the bible cover to cover just to take you to prom. You two belong together. You found your way back to each other after 10 years of living on opposite sides of the country. He won't let this stop you from being together. But you have to tell him and give him the chance to be the guy we both know he is."

"Okay, but…"

"No 'but's" Rory wagged her spoon at her friend. "Promise me you'll tell him the next time you see him."

Lane's face fell in defeat. "Fine, I'll…" They were interrupted by a knock on the door, "go get the door!" Lane finished with a little too much enthusiasm as she started to push herself up off the couch.

"Lane…" Rory admonished. Her friend stopped her stride to the door and turned back to her.

"Fine," she huffed , "I'll tell him."

"The next time you see him…" Rory insisted.

"The next time I see him." Lane rolled her eyes as there was another knock. She set her pint of ice cream down on the entry way table where they kept the bowl for their keys and opened the door just as wide as the still attached chain would allow.

"Hello," she said, eyeing their visitor up and down. She didn't recognize him at all. Which was a shame, because he was cute. Very cute. Though not as cute as Dave. "Can I help you?"

"Umm, is Rory here?"

"That depends," she replied as she continued to stare at him. Did Rory have a new boyfriend? No…she would have told her. Which meant he was probably either a stalker or a bill collector. A very well-dressed bill collector. She definitely had a hard time picturing a stalker showing up in a nice business suit. Maybe he was some politician doing door to door canvassing. "Who's asking?"

"My name is Logan Huntzberger," Logan answered, trying not to let his nerves show through. There was something incredibly intimidating about the woman standing in front of him. Which was ridiculous, he knew. He'd stood on the doorsteps of senators and even a sultan once before. This tiny, Asian woman in a Talking Heads t-shirt was not the source of his current angst. This feeling was clearly about the fact that he was about to ask a question that could either save or destroy the business that had been built by his father and grandfather before him. Logan was a risk taker, skilled in the art of remaining calm under pressure. But this was bigger than any risk he'd taken before.

"Huntzberger?" the person before him asked. "As in Huntzberger Publishing Group?"

"That would be the one."

"Lane?" he heard a voice he just vaguely recognized as belonging to the woman he'd met only twice and was about to ask a life altering question to. The door closed and a second later reopened wider.

"Mr. Huntzberger. This is um…" she looked nervously around the small, untidy room. She bent down to pick up a pair of shoes that had been hastily discarded by the door and plopped them in a basket full of more shoes. He took a look around the small apartment decorated with secondhand furniture. Maybe he was wrong about this…about her. He'd suspected she wasn't particularly money driven, but judging by the looks of this place, that was an understatement. And while it was true he was counting on her desire to help her grandparents more than herself, if she really didn't care about money, than maybe she wouldn't care if they didn't have any. Maybe she figured they'd be fine without it. "A surprise," she finished, standing back up to meet his eye.

"Call me Logan," he told her. Considering what he was about to ask her, not only was it reasonable for her to use his first name, but if she said 'yes' it would be necessary.

"Right, umm…Logan. Was there an issue at work or something…Logan?" she asked, her face confused as she scratched her neck uneasily.

"Can I come in? There was something I was hoping to discuss with you."

"Uh, yeah…of course," she opened the door wider, turning to look at Lane and give her a confused look. Why was her boss at her door at 7PM on a Wednesday evening? Not even her boss…the head of the whole company. What could he possibly have to discuss with her that her editor couldn't discuss with her…at work…when she wasn't wearing fuzzy bunny slippers? Wasn't the bra humiliation enough? Lane shrugged in response.

"I'm just gonna go…to my room," Lane suggested, pointing over her shoulder to the hallway.

"Come in," she turned back to Logan, shutting the door behind him. "Did you want something to drink?" she asked as she led him through the living room. She grabbed a sweater that was hanging off the arm of the chair and quickly folded it, then reached for the half-melted pint of Chubby Hubby she'd left discarded on the coffee table. "I have water. And Gin. And vermouth. I like martinis. Do you want a martini?"

"Water's fine," Logan replied. As nice as a martini would be right about now, he couldn't risk either of them not being of sound mind for this discussion.

"Okay." She opened the freezer to put the ice cream back inside, then reached into the refrigerator for a couple bottles of water, handing one to Logan. "Please, have a seat." She motioned to their hand-me-down kitchen table with its ricket-y chairs. She hoped to god they held. They were ancient as sin, and no one ever used the kitchen table. They always ate on the couch watching TV.

"Thanks," he replied, but he didn't sit and Rory noticed he was staring at her chest. She was about to get angry when he finally spoke up. "Sorry, it's just…you've got a little…" he pointed at her shirt. She looked down at the rather conspicuous splotch of ice cream running down her front.

"Crap!" She rushed to the sink to wet a hand towel and start rubbing at the stain, but it barely made a difference except to make her camisole partially see through. "One second!" She held up a finger to Logan and ran back to the living room area to grab the sweater she'd folded on the chair and pull it on over her head. Her face burned with mortification. And quite honestly, a not insignificant amount of anger. It should be against the law to just randomly show up at someone's apartment like this. She wondered if it was. Maybe she'd ask Paris. There had to be some kind of rule to keep employers from dropping in on their employees when they weren't working.

She took the seat across from Logan, feeling the chair wobble precariously underneath her—God how she hoped it held up. She couldn't take any more humiliation in front of this man. "So, what did you want to talk about?" Rory asked, trying to keep the myriad of emotions from her voice and retain the last shreds of her professionalism.

Logan took a deep breath. What was he thinking? This was insane. Honor was right—it was a suicide mission. She was going to say 'no,' sue him for sexual harassment, and leak the news of the will stipulation on Instagram or something. He should just make some stupid excuse now and get out of this while he still could. Except he couldn't. He was on the verge of losing everything and he at least needed to try to make the best out of it. He had to trust his gut on this one. And no matter what points Honor had made, and no matter what points he'd made himself, no matter all the ways this could go wrong, his gut told him this was the right move. "Okay, I just want to start by saying that you are 100 percent in your rights to say 'no' here. And I will in no way hold it against you. I promise you," he held his hands up in front of him in a prayer gesture. "This will in no way impact your career in any manner whatsoever. I will not mention your name to your editor or anyone else. There will be no retaliation."

"Umm, okay…" Rory looked at him with even more confusion. This wasn't even about work than? Was he going to ask her out? That was insane. He was, well…he was him. Rich, powerful, good looking. He had a reputation for dating models. And she was just…her. Just plain old Rory. Not that there was anything wrong with being her. She rather liked herself. But she was far from his usual type—wasn't she? And why would he risk mixing professional with personal for someone he barely knew. It had to be something else.

"The thing is, I know things with your grandfather's business aren't going so well and I think I might have a way to help."

"You do?" Now Rory was really confused. And even more…ashamed? That didn't really seem like the right word. While she kind of already knew that Logan knew her grandparents were having money trouble, it still unsettled her. Her grandparents were proud people, and they would hate to know that others knew they were struggling. Was secondhand shame a thing? Even so, she to admit she was also finding herself intrigued. She wanted to help her grandparents; it was awful to see them put on their happy faces and pretend everything was alright when she knew it wasn't; when she knew they were struggling. And while she thought maybe things were looking up, she still worried about them.

"I think I have a way we can help each other actually. A mutually beneficial proposal if you will."

"A proposal?" she asked, her eyebrows arching to the ceiling with exaggerated intrigue.

Logan recognized the irony of his choice of words. Still, he decided to go with it. "Yes," he nodded, "a proposal."

"Really?" she pursed her lips together and nodded thoughtfully. It was kind of cute. "In that case, where's my ring?" she teased. Holly shit, he'd walked right into that one. But what were the chances she'd be bold enough to actually go there? Well, he supposed, he wasn't going to get a better opportunity than this. He swallowed nervously and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out the small, velvet box within and placing it on the table. Rory's eyes went wide with incredulity. She stared at the box, unblinking as he flipped open the lid to reveal the 2-karat, baguette diamond encircled with smaller, circular diamonds on a diamond encrusted yellow gold band.

Rory didn't know what to say, what to think. That couldn't be what she thought it was—could it? Of course not. Because what she thought it was was an engagement ring-a really gaudy engagement ring. And there was no way in hell Logan Huntzberger was here to ask her to marry him—Right?

AN: Alright friends, there you have it. The proposal is here. What will Rory say? Will she agree to this arrangement? Will she even give Logan a chance to explain or just kick him out on his ass? Will Logan have to confess to Honor she was right? Will he get in trouble with HR? And what about Lane and Dave. Will Lane confess her secret to him? Will Dave be willing to wait until marriage? As always, I'd love to hear your theories.