Oh my poor little heart...when I checked my reviews today and found 17 lovely little surprises waiting for me...I died and went to happy heaven. But I'm back now, as people seem to prefer me being alive and well so I can write for them. I'm so thrilled that so many people reviewed, I can't tell you how happy it makes me after coming from a smaller, less review-friendly site like I wasa little confused by some people telling me my idea was original, and others telling me it had been done before, but at least I didn't get any hate mail.
Wild Orphan: Thanks for telling me about the review thing!
JediPirateElfyDude: Thanks for your review of course...but I mainly wanted to tell you I loved your name!
Sony31: Yours was my favorite review. Thank you for loving!
Everyone else:YOU GUYS ROCK!
Chapter Two
"Now you stay right next to me the entire time. If I turn around and I don't see you on my elbow, I will hunt you down and stick your ass on a plane back to California. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, big brother." Lily answered Jess, rolling her eyes.
"I'm serious Lily. New York is a mean place. I don't want to scare you by telling you about all the things that could happen to a 16-year-old girl like yourself-"
"I've read your books, Jess. Would you take a chill-pill? God…" J. M. Danes was setting off on a book-tour, and getting ready to board the plane back to the Big Apple. He'd laughed when Rory had called it that. But he didn't mind referring to it as that many years later.
Sasha and Jimmy had finally saved up enough to indulge in a semi-luxurious honeymoon… about time, as they'd been married three years. But Jess had offered to take Lily while they were in Mexico, so she was traipsing around the country with him. Lily was looking forward to the trip, but Jess was a little nervous about having his younger step-sister with him. Lily was the same book-loving, glasses-wearing, uncoordinated nerd she'd been when he met her, but time had been good to her, and she was blossoming into a lovely lady like her mother. And the boys were noticing.
"Do you have your pepper spray?"
"Yes, MOM."
"I'm just asking…there are some pervy people in New York"
"I'm going to sleep on the plane so I don't have to listen to you list everything that could possibly happen to me on this trip. I'll be with you the whole friggin' time, so no one can kidnap me, rape me, kill me, drug me, hurt me, or grab me."
"And if you decide to 'go out' with anyone, I meet them first."
"I think you need to sleep on the plane too."
In Connecticut, also heading off to New York, Leigh Hayden yelled upstairs to her mother as she mentally ticked items off her packing list.
"Mom! Did Sookie say whether or not she could get another sitter for the boys this week?"
"Michel volunteered."
"What?"
"After being threatened with the prospect of suddenly finding himself jobless."
"I hate to leave them with him…he has no idea how to take care of children!"
"Sweets, you're looking forward to this author-convention-thingy. Star's Hollow can make it without you for a few days."
"Oh my God, I forgot underwear!"
"Where did you forget your underwear?"
"I forgot it all together!"
"Please explain to mommy why you don't have underwear."
"I didn't pack it, meaning it's still in my drawer."
"So you just woke up this morning and thought 'Huh, I think I'll give my mother a heart attack today'? Is that it?"
"I hear the car out front, gotta dash!"
"Wait for me, kisses for me!" After saying goodbye to Lorelai, Rory settled back into the plush backseat of the publishing company's car, and took out one of her all-time favorite books. The miles passed as Oliver Twist came alive to her once again.
She reached her hotel and thanked the driver as he helped pass her bags on to the bellhop. As soon as she was alone in her soft-blue room, she flopped down on the bed and kicked her heels off. Pulling Oliver Twist out again, and turned MTV on in the background and continued reading. She didn't have anywhere to be until tomorrow, and she didn't feel like wandering.
Somehow the last time she'd been here and innocently wandered around, she'd come across the record store Jess had taken her to the day of her mother's graduation. How she could manage to find that exact store in the huge city, where there were millions of other places she could have wound up, she didn't know. But she was not eager to repeat the depressing experience.
Jess angrily dialed his publisher's phone number as Lily watched in amusement.
"Carl? What's this fax I just got mentioning something about an author's convention?"
"Ah, Jess. I was wondering when the furious phone call would come."
"Talk."
"Well, you're in town for a few days doing some signings and a few radio shows, and we just thought this would be another fun activity to add to the agenda."
"I told you what I'd do. I did not say I'd do this. I will not do this."
"Such negativity."
"I'm serious, what made you think I'd go to some ritzy party in the first place?"
"Well, you've got that ritzy-party-vibe going, and it'll be good promotion."
"You know that commercial with David Spade where he says 'No' in very many different languages? I'm taking a leaf out of his book."
"Jess, it's publicity. You meet some authors, they read your book, next time they're being asked what's on their personal reading list they throw your name out there…it couldn't be more fun."
"Oh, I could think of some ways."
"You don't want to do TV? Fine. But you can at least run a comb through your hair and show up tomorrow night. Do it for the damn book, Jess."
"I can't. I…I've got my sister here with me! I'm not leaving her alone on the dangerous streets of New York."
"Wonderful, bring her along! We'll hear all about it the next day. Mind your manners while you're there, Jess." Jess blinked at the phone as he heard the dial tone. How the hell had that happened? Meanwhile, Lily was sitting on her bed laughing at him.
"You lost to a corporate executive!"
"Shut up brat, you got roped into coming along."
"What? How? Why?"
"The same ways and reasons which I have to thank for this."
"I have nothing to wear." Jess sighed and took out his wallet.
"C'mon…neither do I."
The next night, Jess fiddled with his new tie as he concentrated on the new book he was reading, Russia Tells No Lies, by some chick named Leigh Hayden. He'd read some of her other works, and she wasn't bad. She was a talented writer who managed to slip some of her own humor into books on the most serious subjects.
"Lily, we're going to be noticeably late."
"I thought you didn't want to even show."
"The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave. I promised Carl an hour and a half."
"Ninety minutes is ninety minutes, Jess."
"Stop your primping and get out here." Lily stepped out of the bathroom and shyly twirled for Jess. His mouth fell open.
"You are not wearing that in public!"
"Why not?"
"Because men are going to mistake you for a hooker, that's why!"
"I do not look like a hooker! The skirt comes to my knees!"
"Yea, so does the top."
"You can barely see anything! Just my arms, back, and neck!"
"No."
"Since when are you so concerned about what I wear?"
"Since you decided that clothes were so last-season."
"I'll put a coat on, okay? You know, you're going to give yourself a heart attack at 25."
They walked down to the hotel ballroom, where the convention was conveniently being held. If he had been paying more attention, he would have noticed that when the publishing company made his reservations. Lily stopped him to fix his tie, took a deep breath, and pushed him into the room.
It wasn't that bad, Rory thought. When she'd seen the room at first, she'd thought this was going to be a Richard-and-Emily worthy event. But the tables were small and people looked friendly. She had a feeling tonight was going to be fun after all, despite the fact that she was dateless. Again. None of her usual platonic male escorts had been interested in coming tonight.
"Miss Hayden, so nice of you to join us." The voice belonged to an older friend of Rory's, the son of one of her Yale professors.
"Leonard Flemming, what are you doing here?" she asked, shaking his hand affectionately.
"Oh, nothing much, just checking out the fresh meat," he stated, glancing around in a bemused manner.
"What do you mean by that pointed comment?" Rory asked teasingly, sitting down next to her friend.
"Just that there's a lot of young talent in this room…writers who have made the bestsellers list before they're thirty."
"Moi would be one of them, Leonard."
"Well, congratulations. You deserve to be included on that list. I'm just afraid that some of these hotshots don't."
"Anyone in particular?"
"Now you know I don't gossip, but something tells me that blonde over there deals with more of the Princess Diaries crowd. Profitable, but it steals the essence."
"She could be here as someone's date. Did that ever occur to you? Thank you," she directed first at Flemming and then at a server who had brought her a glass of water.
"I suppose. Oh, there's somebody I've been wanting you to meet. Talented young gun, an Apple-Pie writer from California. I believe I heard that J. M. Danes was going to be attending this shenanigan, and against his will at that. Have you heard of him?"
"I've read Macy's Journal and Bus Fare. Both incredible stories. I'd love to meet him."
"Well, here's your chance. The man of the hour, J. M. Danes!" Both writers at the table turned towards a dark figure sulking by the bar. The blonde girl Flemming had pointed out earlier was arguing with him, her hands on her hips and her glasses slipping to the bridge of her nose. Rory had wanted glasses when she was a kid- she believed they made you look smarter. She'd stolen Lorelai's glasses many times, giving herself a headache when she wore them. If there was one thing that Rory felt made other women stand out more than her, it was the glasses. Lane was so lucky.
But all thoughts, glasses or otherwise, disappeared from Rory's pretty little brown head when the man turned towards Flemming's raised voice. Her breath caught in her throat. It couldn't be. But it was.
