Author: Sunday Rain

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: May contain spoilers for the second season.

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters you recognise from the show. Based on a story by Sophie Kinsella called Changing People, and ASP and the people who own Gilmore Girls own GG.

Summary: Lane decorates people's hearts as she decorates their houses.

Changing Rooms

Oh, those supermodels

And that's how I ended up reluctantly tagging along to Lane's first official meeting with her new client. On a Saturday, nonetheless! A surprise to me, as most of her meetings were usually lunches, dinners or brunches on weekdays, which were the power-players' only time off for things like that—they usually liked to rest on weekends at their retreats on Martha's Vineyard or wherever.

I had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the fact that she was making sure I wouldn't all of a sudden get a phone call from Dave or Mary at the office, and have to "sneak out" because of "emergencies that a came up at work demanding my immediate attention." Why does she know me that well? I grumbled silently to myself.

Lane pulled up in front of a landmark brownstone. Now I know these apartments cost a bundle. This guy must be filthy rich…

After locating Apartment 4 (which was really not that difficult seeing as there were a total of six tenants in this place), we stood in front of the big oak doors on the floor we were directed toward (the only doors on the floor) and waited for someone to answer the doorbell.

"Lane," I began to say, before it was too late and someone actually did answer it, "Are you sure—"

"No," Lane cut me off rather quickly.

"But—"

"Rory."

"No, seriously, what is my purpose here?"

"You are here as my personal assistant," Lane answered matter-of-factly.

"You planned this out thoroughly," I said, rather impressed despite the situation.

"Thank you," Lane nodded at me smugly.

Just then, the door to the place opened, and we quickly gathered ourselves together and put on our business smiles—wide toothy grins plastered to our faces. We turned toward the door and…

Out stepped a six-foot leggy blonde model.

I could swear I could hear Lane's jaw drop to the floor with a thud. I also could swear I recognised her from somewhere…

"Yes?"

"Uhm, uhm, uhm," Lane tried to compose herself from the initial shock. "Oh, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong apartment, I uhm, I'm looking for a Mr. Tristan DuGrey."

Whoa. Hold up. What? Who? Tristan… DuGrey? I was about to ask Lane to repeat the name, when Barbie opened her mouth to speak.

"Oh! Yes, you do have the right place," she said, smiling. She had a pretty smile. Not fair. I suddenly felt very inadequate. So Lane's initial prediction of this matchmaking thing was shot down in the last minute. Yay, score for me. But my curiosity was still there. DuGrey? I tuned back in to hear the walking Barbie still talking to Lane.

"Are you Lane Kim? The interior designer?"

Lane straightened up a little higher, "Yes I am. Nice to meet you…"

"Alana Simmons," she lifted her arm up for a handshake. Alana Simmons! Aha! Supermodel and current fashion-icon It-girl. I should know, Trish from Fashion wrote articles after articles around this girl. "Please come in, Ms. Kim, and…" she turned toward me.

"Oh! Lorelai Hayden," I quickly said, taking her hand and shaking it. Lane gave me a funny look. With my eyes I tried to convey the best I could that I'd explain later.

"Ms. Hayden," Alana smiled at me and made room so that we could pass through her in the doorway, not that she had to move much. She could've just stayed smack dab in the middle and there would have been enough room for an elephant to pass through, she was that thin.

Once inside with the door closed, we took in the elegant furnishings of the foyer. Why would anyone need this redecorated? It was fine as it was.

"Sorry about the confusion," Alana explained, "Tristan told me you were coming, and since this whole thing was my idea, he just split."

She laughed a high-pitched girly laugh, complete with hair tossing. Oh this was too much. Much too much stereotypes of models were being proven. I didn't know how I could possibly manage to contain my laughter for the next hour. Lane glared at me. I suppressed my giggle.

"He hates anything to do with decorating, thinks its much to feminine for him," she continued. Then Alana gestured around the apartment. "As you can see, it definitely needs redecorating."

Huh? It looked pretty nice too me. I could tell Lane agreed with me as well.

Lane interrupted the supermodel's spiel. "What exactly do you want me to redecorate? This place looks quite amazing, if I must say."

Alana frowned slightly. "Well, I know it does but it looks so…frumpy. I want to spruce up the place a bit, modernize it. Its much too 'old-money' for me if you know what I mean? Tristan's parents were the ones who decorated this place, if you couldn't have guessed. The DuGreys are rather 'old-money'."

Lane, being, well, the not so subtle Lane jumped in with another question, "Sorry Ms. Simmons—"

"Alana."

"Alana," Lane repeated, "Are you and Mr. DuGrey…"

"Oh, we're dating," she smiled, waving her hand as if it were no big deal. "I've only just moved in, but… You know, we've been dating quite awhile and the next logical step is… You know," she gestured to her hands which were currently devoid of any article of jewelry. "So before that, I want to make this place my home as well… So I managed to convince Tristan to let me redecorate it!" She beamed proudly at us.

"Well then," Lane shrugged. "Lets get started shall we?"

"Yes! I can't wait!" Alana exclaimed gleefully. "I was thinking…feminine, girly. Modern furnishings but with warm touches… Like… furry carpets. And pink. I love pink. Shades of pink and blue…Some feminine touches. Not old world maps and paintings."

Lane whipped out her notepad and began scribbling furiously. I leaned over to see what she had written; Barbie's Modern Fairy-Tale Castle.

That did it. I could hardly contain my snort of disgust and amusement. Can you even be disgusted and amused at the same time?

At that Alana stopped and looked at me as if the noise that I just produced was indignified and rude. "Are you okay? Do you need a drink or something?" she asked me.

"Oh, no no no," I said. But just to pitch in my two scents, "Why don't you drape the mantlepiece with a velvet pink brocade and cover the top with candles and scents… The coloured ones. Give it colour and aroma."

Lane stopped scribbling to glare at me again for the third time. I shrugged at her, this was her idea for me to come here. I was just joining in the fun.

Alana's cheeks coloured with excitement. "Oh my gosh! That is a totally brilliant idea! I love it…You're genius…Lane, she's genius!" She pointed at me and was just this close to hopping up and down on her elegantly manicured toes. Then she stopped abruptly. "What is it exactly that you do?"

"Oh, I'm Lane's personal assistant and placement consultant," I said. I couldn't help adding that last bit. At the corner of my eye I could see Lane just about to kill me.

"Uh, what exactly is a placement consultant?"

"Oh, I consult on which objets to place where for the effect parfait," I said with a touch of elegance.

Alana looked at me, confused, but she shrugged and smiled. "Wow, interesting. You learn something new everyday! Anyway, now this is just this room, but I want you to see the rest of the place so you'll know what challenge you'll be facing." And with that she swept out of the room and left us to trail after her like lost puppies.

"I swear to God if this wasn't a lucrative client I'd pummel you right here and now," Lane hissed, as she passed me.

"Hey, don't blame me, this was your idea," I smiled innocently and followed.