A/N: As always, thank you so much to the reviewers, you guys are awesome (and I say that in a strictly non-Kimberly Caldwell tone).

Laura Mariano -- The suggestion you made about the bridge . . . I had that in mind, and when you suggested it, I decided to put it in the story. Thanks.

Chapter 4

"Are you going to say hi?" Jess asked, a small smirk beginning to appear on his face.

Rory couldn't believe it. Her boss was her stepfather's nephew. She had a connection to him beyond torturer/torturee.

"Hello," Rory said.

"What's wrong?" Lorelai asked, noticing her daughter's strained expression.

"He's my boss," Rory told them.

"Hi. Jess Mariano. I'm sure you've heard horror stories about me," Jess said, extending his hand to Lorelai.

She shook it warily. "A few."

"Wait a sec. You're the sadistic boss?" Luke asked.

"Tough, yes. Sadistic, no," Jess answered. He turned to Rory. "I knew you didn't like me, but sadistic?"

"Are you taking pleasure in this right now?" Rory asked.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't getting a slight rush."

"Then yes, you're a sadist."

Jess said, "Well, I'd love to hang around here a little while, but I'm awfully hungry and I need to eat."

Rory watched him go. "Oh, I hate him!" she cried. "Luke, how are you related to him?"

"His father was a bastard," Luke explained. "Left when Jess was six. He's where Jess gets it all from."

Rory felt a pang of compassion. Then she said, "That doesn't give him the right to treat people the way he does." She stopped. "I'm going to go get the DJ to play something non-puke-inducing." Rory wished Lane had been able to DJ; unfortunately, she was in Australia playing a gig. Rory would never for the life of her understand why someone would fly halfway around the world for one gig -- but Lane seemed to love it.

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Instead of talking to the DJ, Rory detoured to a favorite spot of hers in the town. The bridge -- the very object of the numerous "Save the Bridge" funds.

Rory sat and dangled her feet over the edge. As she was getting comfortable, she saw a figure standing near the woods.

"Who's there?" she called out.

Rory practically heard him smirk. "It's the sadistic boss."

"Oh," Rory groaned. She really didn't have the energy to fight him at the moment.

"You sound so thrilled," Jess said, emerging from the trees and sitting next to her.

"Oh, yes, I just love being taunted, condescended to, and laughed at for long periods of time," Rory said. "And that's all you ever do to me, so why shouldn't I be dancing at the mere mention of your name?"

"I'm not that bad," Jess defended himself. "I complimented you on the coffee last week."

Rory chortled. "Coffee." She used air quotes as she repeated the word.

"What?"

"What you call coffee, my mother and I call a crime against humanity."

Jess raised an eyebrow. "You have such strong feelings about coffee?"

"Thank your uncle, he spoiled me," Rory said with a smile. "I'll never drink a lesser cup of coffee again."

"Yeah, I remember my mom saying once that one cup of Luke's coffee would turn you into a caffeine hound."

"She was right."

Jess was silent for a moment, then asked, "So you're Lorelai's daughter?"

"That's what they tell me, and since we look so alike, I'm inclined to believe them," Rory replied.

"My mom was pretty young when she had me, like yours."

"How young?"

"Nineteen."

Rory shook her head. "My God, I'd have a two-year-old by now."

"Well, what about your mom, Luke told me she was sixteen when she had you."

Rory wondered why Luke had told him that, then decided to let it go. "Yeah, but she's always been different. I think Mom could have survived on her own at age ten," she mused.

He answered, "Survival is a good skill to have."

"Sure is." Rory asked, "Why are you being so nice and civil to me?"

"I told you, I'm not that bad. Just very . . . defensive. And I don't know, this place is just so . . . peaceful. I almost don't want to ruin it by being a cad."

Rory grinned. "I love it here. I used to come here and read a lot in high school."

"What do you read?" Jess' interest was piqued. He was an avid reader as well.

"Everything. Mostly classic literature, though."

"Me too," Jess said. "I love Hemingway the best."

Rory wrinkled her nose. "Why? He always put me to sleep."

"How?" Jess asked incredulously. "He had a good style, good storylines --"

"All of which somehow put me to sleep."

"Well then, who's your favorite author?"

Rory smiled a little. "Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath, Ayn Rand --"

Jess cut her off. "A commitment-phobic near-recluse, a suicidal maniac, and a bitter, self-centered political nut. Okay, go on."

"Hemingway was suicidal," she pointed out.

"He sensibly shot himself, he didn't stick his head in an oven."

"I don't see how that makes it better, but all right," Rory said. "But Plath wrote with so much more . . . heart than Hemingway."

Jess asked, "Have you read 'The Sun Also Rises'?"

"No, I stopped after falling asleep during both 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' and 'A Farewell to Arms'."

"Read it," Jess advised. "Then tell me that Hemingway didn't write with heart."

"Okay," she agreed. Then she started talking about the merits of Ayn Rand and the genius of 'Atlas Shrugged."

Jess caught himself blatantly staring at her while she was talking. She was so pretty . . . wait a second. He fought the instinct to slap himself in the head. This was the second time in the six days he had known her that he'd had the beginnings of such thoughts. He could not like her -- sure, she was beautiful, and nice, and apparently very smart, but she was his employee. And while there was no rule at the Times about intraoffice dating, he personally wasn't comfortable with it. Especially not with the girl under his professional rule.

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Rory stopped talking as she noticed the way Jess was looking at her. He was looking at her with -- what? Interest? Admiration? Both?

She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "So . . . she's just very cynical. Not a nut."

Jess visibly snapped back to reality. "Who?"

"Ayn Rand."

"Oh," he said.

Rory could tell he was flustered. He's not -- no. There was no way he was having thoughts about her beyond what assignment to give her next.

But what if he was? How would she deal with it? After all, up until about thirty minutes ago, she'd hated him. Now, though, she had broken through his outer shell -- and she liked the inside of him.

These thoughts all went through her mind in a matter of seconds.

"Rory?" Jess asked, breaking the generally comfortable silence.

"Yes?"

"What are you thinking about?"

Rory looked at him. It seemed they each knew what the other was thinking.

And then, he leaned in to kiss her. But just as they met, Rory pulled back.

"I -- I have to go," she stammered, jumping up. "My mom is probably worried." With that, she ran back in the direction of the party.

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Jess looked after her until she disappeared out of sight. At least now he knew for sure how he felt. Because when she pulled away, he had felt a surge of disappointment.

A/N: Okay, so what did you think? I won't know if you don't tell me, so please review. And feel free to give plot suggestions, I've already had two that I'm considering incorporating into the story.

~Lauren