Rory stood at the airport in Manhattan, having just gotten off of her plane. She had flown first class, courtesy of The Manhattan Prism, one of the three newspapers calling Rory Gilmore to their side. The other two were the Gotham Gazette, and the Journal of Manhattan. The Manhattan Prism was the most famous, and obviously could afford to give her a high salary, but she wasn't planning on ruling out anything. She ran her fingers nervously through her hair as she went through baggage check. Tristan was going to meet her in the pizza place in the airport, he said he'd spent many of times in there. She dragged her luggage behind her and approached the pizza place. Her hands were sweaty, and she kept repeating to herself that he was just a simple friend, and nothing more. She checked herself in a mirror, and entered the noisy restaurant.
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Tristan was sitting at a table for two, sipping a Pepsi when he saw her walk in. She seemed unsure and bashful, although the look, along with her natural innocence made her seem even more beautiful then usual. She wore loose fitting jeans, a black tank top, and a white jacket. She ran her fingers through her hair and scanned the crowd, until her gaze landed on Tristan. She smiled, and walked over to him, taking her seat. A cup of hot coffee was waiting for her, and Tristan smiled up at her, knowingly.
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"Hello, Beautiful!" said Tristan, smirking.
Rory smiled and said, "Evening."
"No compliment for the coffee bearer?"
"For that, you have my heart and soul…"
"And panties?"
"Don't push it," she said giggling.
"Heart and Soul are fine." He said.
She drank the coffee in one long gulp, obviously needing it after the long flight.
"How was the flight?"
"Desperately long, and without coffee."
"My apologies."
"Well to make it up you have to show me Manhattan."
"We can't see it all tonight! I'll show you the road to my apartment."
"But I'm not tired!" she insisted, which was followed by a guilty yawn.
He finished his Pepsi, and took her hand, leading her to the exit. It was raining, and Tristan offered to go get his car while Rory waited inside. Rory happily thought to herself about how great he was. She waited for a few minutes, all alone, when a dirty looking man approached her. He wore dirty jeans and a white T-shirt, the look completed with a long trenchcoat.
"Hey, baby come back to my place?"
"No thanks."
He caressed her arm, "come on, I don't bite unless you want me to."
She pulled away, "Leave me alone."
This conversation continued until Tristan pulled up and saw the man from his car. He approached them, put an arm protectively around Rory and said, "You wouldn't be messing with my girl, would you?" The once calm and sleazy man shook his head quickly and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't know she was yours or anybody's girl. I'll be going now."
He left and Tristan led Rory to his car. Once they were in Rory sighed and said, "Thank you."
He smiled, "It's all a matter of what to say to these types of people. You'll learn."
"If I make it! This city keeps getting more complicated!"
He grinned, "You're just to innocent for the roughness of the streets of Manhattan."
She laughed and said, "Maybe you should have been a journalist."
He faked a tone like his father's "A DuGrey in such a position? Absolutely intolerable!"
They shared a good laugh, and realized how much fun even small talk was for them.
The bellboy winked knowingly at Tristan when he saw Rory, but Tristan shook his head. Would anybody see that Rory was different with the other girls usually on Tristan's arm? Probably not, but all Tristan cared about at this moment, was making Rory like him. They reached his floor and Rory looked amazed, "This whole thing is yours?" Tristan nodded and unlocked the door. She loved it instantly.
"Wow!" she said
"Thanks."
The bellboy sat her bags down and she scanned the place. "This is amazing!"
He smiled like it was no big deal, "Thanks again."
He walked down the small hallway and opened a door. "This is the guest bedroom, and the door by the closet is the bathroom. My bedroom is down the other hall."
She walked into the guest bedroom and flung herself onto the bed. "I am so tired."
"Not 30 minutes ago you said you weren't at all tired."
"I lied."
"You know where liars go Mary," he said teasingly.
"To sleep?" she asked, feigning childlike insolence.
"Exactly."
He smirked. "God it's so sexy when he does that." Rory thought, but simply rolled her eyes.
"If you're really that tired, I guess I'll leave you alone, we can catch up tomorrow morning."
"Don't you have to work?"
"That's the great thing about being the boss."
"You took off for me? I feel special."
He smiled, and left the room, closing the door behind him.
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All alone, she changed into her flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top. She brushed through her hair and brushed her teeth, and curled up under the covers, realizing that she was with Tristan DuGrey, in his guest bedroom. She was staying the weekend with him, and he was taking off work for her. She grinned, looking up at the ceiling, and closed her eyes and fell asleep.
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Tristan drank some milk and watched TV, leaving the volume low. He didn't want to wake Rory. That thought made him so happy. Rory Gilmore, his teenage obsession, was sleeping in his guest bedroom. He let his fantasies get the best of him, and wished that Rory were really his.
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Although the scent of eggs, bacon, and Starbucks coffee were going to wake her soon, it was her cell phone that actually did the job. "Hello?" she answered sleepily.
"Rory, its mom"
"Whose mom?"
"Yours!"
"There is no way you're up this early."
"I had a dream."
"Again?"
"Please?"
"Okay tell me" she said, sighing and sitting against the headboard.
"I was dead, like lying in the middle of the street! And all the people I know came to take parts of me. Your grandparents took my lips for some strange reason, Miss Patty took my legs, Max took my… "down there" area, Luke took my mouth, and then Chris comes and takes my… heart." She paused, showing that that was what really bugged her but finished as though it meant nothing, "and then you come along and take the rest of me. I don't like dying dreams. At all." She paused as to let Rory interpret it, but she said nothing. "Rory?"
"Okay… Grandma and Grandpa took your lips so they could control what you say. Miss Patty is insanely jealous of your killer legs, Max isn't in love with you, I mean isn't he married? But he liked… okay and uh Luke takes your mouth because A, he is the one that makes it smile, fills it with coffee, and he desperately wants to kiss you. Dad took your heart because it's always been his and always will."
"That's not true."
"Is to"
"Is not"
"Is to"
"Is NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT!"
"Whatever you say," the smell of the coffee reached her, and Tristan tapped on her door, "I'll call you tonight mom."
"Goodbye devil child."
"Goodbye."
She hung up the phone and called to Tristan "Come on in."
"Who was that?" he asked
"My mother had a dream, which obviously means she's desperately in love with my father, although she won't admit it."
"Did he get married a while back?"
"Divorced a year later… the daughter that actually made him agree to the marriage, wasn't his."
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"You have a crazy life. Need Coffee?"
He handed it to her, and she sipped it, smiling refreshed. "Do I smell Eggs and Bacon?"
"Tristan DuGrey, Master Chef."
"Brings Coffee, and can cook. It's true love."
He smiled, wishing that that hadn't been a sarcastic comment.
Breakfast was wonderful, full of small talk.
Then Rory asked, "Goodness, how long have you been awake?"
He had never shared that he watched the sunrise every morning. He had never told anybody. He smiled and said, "Promise you won't laugh?"
She nodded.
"For years I've watched the sun rise every morning."
"Wow how sweet."
He almost blushed and said, "Thanks."
Rory smiled, and thought of this new Tristan, one who brought eggs and bacon and watched the sunrise. One who looked so handsome, all dressed up, and ready to show her his city, which might end up being her own."
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She got ready, and came out. Tristan was sitting on his couch, reading.
She sat down beside him and said, "So, what are you showing me today?"
"I figured we'd hit Madison Square Gardens, the Empire State Building, Macy's, Lord and Taylor, and the New York Public Library. When are your interviews?"
"The Manhattan Prism at 4, the Gotham Gazette at 6, and the Manhattan Journal isn't until 2 tomorrow."
"Then that gives us plenty of time for lunch at The International Hard Rock Café for dinner, and the Russian Tea Room for lunch."
"God, this is like wonderful."
"If we hurry we can see, Rockefeller Center and 5th Avenue today too."
"You are wonderful."
"I know."
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After their fun first of the day, and their wonderful lunch, Tristan and Rory headed to the Manhattan Prism. Tristan sat in the waiting room, while Rory went inside.
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Mrs. Renée Sharper, head of interviews and human relations was conducting the interview. She was stiff looking woman, with thin frames covering wrinkled eyes. She was about 40, Rory would guess, and although not ugly, she looked very unhappy. She was wearing a white shirt and a skirt. She smiled happily however, when she saw Rory, and was transformed into a nice maternal looking woman. "You must be Lorelei Gilmore!"
"Yes, but I tend to go by Rory."
"And that name came from?"
"Lorelei is my mother's name, and she was named after my great grandmother. You would think that it was a family thing, my name being Lorelei, but my mother, who was only 16 when she had me, and quite drugged up, on pregnancy drugs of course, named me after herself, certainly not wanting to have any previous family connection."
"Really?" she wrote something down.
"Your references look good, and obviously graduating near the top of your class at Harvard is wonderful, you're obviously well spoken. We want you on our staff without a doubt."
"You are not the only ones, however."
"That we expected, so we have tried to line up and irresistible offer."
"I have amazing willpower."
"We also expected that. We can offer you a position as Junior Head writer of the Events or People section, that is your choice. You can eventually progress to head writer, Junior Editor, or Head editor of the said section. You have amazing talent. You'll pretty much work alone, although the junior editor of your section will hand you your assignments. You'll be second in rank, able to have pretty much your pick of what you want to write about."
"Salary plays an important part in this decision also."
"What was your previous salary?" she asked, although the information was already written on her resume.
"50,000 dollars annually, which we both know is well over the average salary of around 26,000. I moved, not for the money but for the experience, but we both know that the living costs here will be much higher."
"I was told to offer 40,000, but I can bargain for you."
"Up to?"
"50,000. We usually pay starting writers up to 30,000, and the only 2 starting writers who have started as Junior Head Writers were paid 35,000. The money, obviously had a possibility to go up with your continued work. It's all your choice. You've been accepted. I say we schedule a meeting for sometime next week?"
Rory smiled and said, "I'll call you."
They said polite goodbyes and Rory left the room. Tristan stood and as they walked out he asked, "How much did you get from them?"
"40, with a willingness to bargain up to 50,000 if absolutely necessary."
"Wow, pretty good for a journalist, isn't it?"
"I was making 50,000 back home."
"Your damn good."
She smiled, "I know. So what are we going to do between now and 6?"
"We only have an hour and a half."
"We'll see Rockefeller center now, and 5th avenue later."
"As you wish," he said, hailing a cab."
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They went to the next interview, Tristan once again waiting and talking on his cell phone while Rory went in. This time Eloisa Jane Peabody welcomed her.
"Hello there. Your Rory Gilmore?"
"That I am."
"You applied."
"Obviously."
"Yeah… your application is right here. So you're pretty good?"
"I've been told that."
"This is a high-work facility. We don't do the fancy dinners, nice cars, or plush offices."
"I noticed."
"We are here only to write."
"What position do you hold here?"
"I am the editor in chief. We don't have a HR director, any problems you would have you would talk to me about."
"I understand."
"You seem to be a talented writer, were just not sure if you're the type of person used to this kind of office."
"I'm a hard worker."
"But you're also one who wants a nice corner office and a few secretaries. We only have one, and she welcomes people. You'd be your own secretary. You'd work quickly, and well, turn in your assignments and get another one. A different team prints them. There is very little celebration and praise. We just go, and make good stories."
"What position?"
"We have one editor in chief, and that is me. Everybody else had no title other than their first name."
"Salary?" Rory asked almost weakly.
"25,000. Not the best you can do in this city, but the paper is great."
"That's half of what…"
She was cut off, "If money is important to you this isn't the place to go. If articles are, this is."
"I'll call you."
"You do that."
She left.
Tristan smiled, "This place is a little dumpy."
"I noticed!"
"How much did they offer?"
"25,000."
"Oh."
"But it seemed like a very nice work-oriented place."
"Your grandparents would hate it."
"They hated my last job."
" Haters gon hate."
"Don't you dare sing black girl tunes."
"Lets go to this club I know of after dinner."
"You mean the kind with table dancing and whores in every corner?"
He laughed, "It's much nicer than that, its called, "RAF, meaning Rich and Famous. High admission prices, nice dress. Pretty much a bunch of rich mean and women from the business world."
"Sounds good then, but first I have to eat."
"Hard Rock Café it is!"
They ate a delicious meal, and then Tristan and Rory made there way to the club. They walked in and were in the "parlor." Which was filled with young men and their girls of the night. Tristan was dressed in A polo shirt and khakis, and Rory wore a short red dress, that Tristan was in love with. He took her hand and led her to the dance room, which was really just like a nightclub. The song "Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera was playing.
"Dance?" said Tristan.
She nodded and fell into his arms. The song was sweet, and the seemed to mold into each other. She lay her head on his shoulder, and he held his hand protectively on her back. He twirled her hair in that hand, and fell into the song. His friends stared at him, he usually had a bombshell blonde, in short skirts and not there shirts, and his hands were not gentlemenlike. But with this girl he was gentle and sweet. They were amazed. After a few short songs she went to call her mother as promised, and he sat at the bar with his friends.
"DuGrey, she a girlfriend? Fiancée? You looked like in love out there."
"She's just a friend."
"Bullshit. You were holding her like she was the best thing in the world."
"How is she… ya know?"
"She's a virgin."
"Wow. No wonder."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You have to treat her differently to get her."
"That's bullshit. I wouldn't hurt her."
"Your love em and leave em DuGrey, of course you'll leave her."
"She's just a friend."
"Sure."
Rory entered the room, "My mother is crazy," she said to Tristan, as she sat down next to him.
Tristan introduced her to his friends, and then pulled Rory back out onto the dance floor.
"They think I'm in love with you."
"Aren't you?" she replied.
The danced until midnight, and Rory asked to go home. She needed her beauty sleep she explained.
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Her flight was at 5 PM. The first part of her last day had included more shopping, with very little buying and another spectacular breakfast and lunch. After the interview they were going to go back to his apartment, chill, and then he had to drop her off. He didn't want to see her leave. He reminded himself that she would be back soon, she was going to work here, but he knew that she would fall into that groove, away from him, and he would see her just as much as he had before. He was just a friend, and even that was shaky. He covered up what was wrong and waited for her in the Lobby of the Manhattan Journal building.
"You must be Miss Gilmore," said Bridget Rescan.
"Yes, but I prefer to go by Rory."
"I'm Bridget, the if, and, and everything girl around here."
She laughed, "every office needs one."
"That's what my husband says."
"Your husband is?"
"Darien Rescan, the editor in chief of this place. He told me you were an amazing writer. And to make sure we got you."
"I feel very special."
"Why do you want to work here? I mean I know people at the Prism and even the Gazette, and I know you applied there. The Journal is well-liked, but not famous, cannot offer a salary like the Prism, and isn't exactly fit to your talents."
"I applied to all three in hopes of finding one that fit me. Not just for the best money, fame, and position, but I know it sounds crazy, but the last place I worked at was like a family. I wanted to find one like that."
"Well, we are like that. My husband, Me, and our oldest daughter works here, and then everybody else is our friend. We have some crazy motto like "Teamwork equals Independent Success."
"It sounds nice. What kind of position are you offering?"
"Judy Poplins, our former Head Writer just had triplets, Jane, Jake, and Jasper. Her husband is pretty well off, so she decided to retire. We thought about promoting some of our own writers, but they were doing so well. We had a team meeting and went through applications. It's a big job, you write pretty much the "big" stories of the paper, and you have a big hand in formatting it. Usually it's me, my husband, and our daughter who do it at the end, and Judy used to help. That way we can pick what needs to be on the front, you know, little things. That part of course is optional but we could really use you."
"And Salary wise?"
"We paid Judy 30,000, because she was so excellent. If you worked with us we could offer 28,000 and then based on your work and how we do, you would be the first to get a raise with profit increases. We really want you, but salary-wise we probably aren't the best. We are a growing paper, however, we think we have a lot of potential."
"Thanks. I'll definitely get back to you."
"Your welcome. I'll talk to you then Rory."
Rory walked out of the door and her and Tristan left again.
"How much?" he asked eagerly.
"28 for now, but with chance to increase."
"So have you made a decision."
"You best be subscribing to the Manhattan Journal."
"Really?"
"Not exactly a ton of money, but the people were amazingly friendly. I felt at home so quickly."
"When do you start?"
"I'm going to call her in two days."
"What a professional."
"yep!"
"So you'll be living in Manhattan."
"Yeah, I was needing to talk to you about that."
"What?"
"You have that huge place, and I was wondering if I could live with you, just until I find my own apartment."
"Stay as long as you want to."
"Thanks so much."
"Welcome."
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They were getting ready to say goodbye again. Neither wanted to.
"Goodbye Tristan."
"Goodbye Rory."
They looked at each other and almost laughed. This wasn't the way they went about things She turned to leave, they were calling her flight, and then turned back. Tristan looked at her and said, "Something wrong?" Their eyes met, and he leaned forward. She shut her eyes, and they kissed. People looked, because it was like the essence of this kiss was floating in the air. This time she didn't cry.
"I'll call you," she said.
"I'll miss you." he replied, and he watched her plane take off.