Pairings: Established relationships for L/L and P/J; R/T…eventually
Rating: R
Spoilers: May reference anything from seasons 1 & 2.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted here were created by Amy Sherman-Palladino, and are the property of Hofflund-Polone and Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions. They are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made from their use.
Author's Note: Fair warning—y'all are not going to be happy after you read this chapter. Bear in mind, I do have a plan for our beloved couple, and this is a part of that evil, evil plan. You don't have to like it, but you will have to endure it. I apologize in advance.
Incidentally, this chapter's title quote is from Two Weeks Notice.
Unholy Alliance
by Grace
Part Thirty-two: You are the most selfish human being on the planet. Well that's just silly. Have you met everyone on the planet?
"Tristan! Hey! Uh…what are you doing…oh, wait, I know what you're doing here… So, yeah, who's your, um, friend?"
He tried to hide a grin at Rory's flustered ramblings, but there was nothing he could do about Brooke, who was smiling widely at the other woman's hapless demeanor. "Hello, Rory," he said smoothly. "This is Brooke, um…Brooke…"
"Davis," she murmured.
So much for smooth, Tristan thought. "Brooke Davis. Right. I knew that."
Rory gazed thoughtfully at the lovely woman accompanying Tristan, a dull, heavy feeling settling in her stomach. The woman—Brooke, she reminded herself—wore a gauzy, crimson, spaghetti-strapped cocktail dress that reached only to several inches above her knees, the matching scarf draped artfully around her slender neck. Suddenly, the slate gray ankle length sheath she wore, with its modest scoop neck and coordinating fitted jacket, seemed dowdy and plain, rather than the elegant, sophisticated garment Rory had thought it in the store.
Squaring her shoulders, Rory extended her hand and flashed Brooke a sweet, if tentative, smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Brooke. I'm Rory Gilmore. How do you know Tristan?"
Brooke smiled, and Rory found herself suddenly, inexplicably hating dimples. "We only met yesterday, believe it or not. But we hit it off so well, Tristan couldn't resist asking me to join him."
"How…impulsive of him. If you'll excuse me, I really must go find my date. I'll see you later, Tristan."
Her back ramrod-straight and her smile tight, Rory walked away from the "couple," ostensibly in search of Ryan.
Brooke turned to Tristan, and gave an excited squeal. "You have to tell her the truth, Tristan! Whether she knows it or not, that woman feels something for you. She certainly didn't like seeing you with me."
"Right," he scoffed. "Rory just doesn't adapt well to unexpected situations. It doesn't mean anything."
"Sweetie, I know jealousy when I see it, and Rory was most definitely jealous. Trust me.
"I really want to believe you, Brooke, but I don't want to get my hopes up for nothing again."
On the other side of the room, Rory managed to corner Paris, who had been happily ensconced beside a table heavily laden with appetizers. "You are not going to believe the floozy that Tristan showed up with," she hissed, fiercely stabbing a cube of cheese as she spoke.
"Tristan has a floozy?" Paris replied mildly. "It's about time that he had some fun. Is it anyone I know?"
"I doubt it, since he only met her yesterday."
At that, Paris' head went up, her interest apparent. "I guess he managed to enjoy his New Year after all."
"Is that all you have to say?" Rory demanded to know. "What kind of a…a rake shows up to a business function with a one-night stand?"
"First of all, you don't know that she's a one-night stand. Second...ooh, stuffed mushrooms!"
"Paris, focus!"
"Right, right. Second, Tristan is a single adult male. He has every right to bring a date to whatever function he wants. It's not as though he's Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, after all. And third, why exactly is this bothering you so much?"
Rory flushed an unattractive shade of red. "It's just not appropriate."
"What isn't appropriate?" Ryan asked, stepping up to the pair, cocktail in hand.
"Tristan's date," Rory practically spat out.
Ryan smirked. "I must admit, he hasn't lost his touch with the ladies. Did you hear that they only met yesterday?"
"Men!" Rory growled in frustration before stalking off to find her mother. Surely she would understand.
* * *
"Tristan! How lovely to see you again!"
Tristan turned, and smiled graciously at the effusive woman headed his way, her more reserved husband in tow. "Good evening Mrs. Gilmore, Mr. Gilmore. It's a pleasure to see you again, too."
Emily Gilmore tsked her disapproval. "I've told you to call me Emily, dear. Now, introduce me to your lovely companion."
"Of course, where are my manners? Brooke Davis, I'd like you to meet Emily and Richard Gilmore. Emily, Richard, this is my friend Brooke."
Pleasantries were exchanged all around, and soon Luke, Lorelai, Billy, Emma, and Charlotte joined the group. After only a few minutes, everyone was laughing and talking like they were old friends. Emma was settled comfortably on Tristan's hip, and Brooke was crouched down talking to Billy and Charlotte.
That was the scene Rory stumbled upon when she came in desperate search of her mother. Willing herself to seem composed, she approached the small crowd and tapped her mother on the shoulder.
"Rory, there you are! I was beginning to wonder if Paris, Jess, and Ryan had dumped you along the side of the road. By the way, have you met Tristan's friend Brooke?"
"Yes, we were introduced earlier."
"Rory, you look lovely this evening," Emily piped up.
"You certainly do," Richard agreed. "I must be the envy of the room, surrounded by so many beautiful women."
Rory suppressed a scream, and said quietly, "Mom, could I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure, honey. Excuse me," she said to the group, "even after all these years, a girl still needs her mother."
Moments later, Rory was practically dragging Lorelai across the room. She didn't stop until they were safely inside the ladies' room.
"What has gotten into you?" Lorelai demanded. "This is an incredibly important evening for you and your business, and you're acting like a moody teenager!"
"Gee, I wonder where I learned that habit!" she snapped back.
"Don't think I don't know what this is about, young lady. Your panties are in a twist because Tristan showed up with a date. A beautiful, charming date, I might add."
"This isn't about Tristan having a date! This is about Tristan not knowing how to behave at a business function!"
"The only one not behaving is you, Rory. Tristan and Brooke have conducted themselves with the utmost decorum this evening. Even your grandmother approves. If you refuse to see what the real problem is, I'm not going to attempt to enlighten you." And then, she left the bathroom, a stunned Rory in her wake.
* * *
Rory had managed to regain a modicum of her composure after her mother abandoned her in the bathroom, and the evening proceeded fairly smoothly from that point. Rory had rather studiously avoided Tristan and Brooke, but once the presentations began, she felt much more at ease.
Rory was just wrapping up her speech, and she gazed out over the assembled crowd with a sense of pride and accomplishment. She smiled as she concluded her presentation. "Now, I'd like to turn the floor over to Tristan DuGrey. Tristan is the founder of ILRG, Inc., and without him and his partner Ryan Salinger, this evening wouldn't be possible. Tristan?"
"Thank you, Rory." Without a moment's hesitation, he launched into a polished, impressive presentation, which Rory only half-listened to. Suddenly, though, something caught her attention. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to take a moment to make an announcement. My associates are also being caught unawares, and I apologize for catching them off guard like this.
"I am very proud of the business that ILRG has become. I poured my heart and soul into building an enterprise that I believed in, and I feel I've accomplished that. Of course, none of it would have been possible without my trusted partner and friend, Ryan Salinger, as well as all the employees who have worked so hard over the years.
"I feel, though, that I have come to a crossroads in my life. The future stretches out before me, and there are two roads from which to choose. There is the safe, comfortable road, the road in which I continue with ILRG for as long as they will put up with me. I believe, though, that the time has come for me to follow the unknown, more difficult road. Effective immediately, I am resigning my position at ILRG, Inc. to pursue other ventures."
A gasp went up in the crowd, and then pandemonium broke loose. Patiently, Tristan waited for it to subside. "This hasn't been an easy decision for me to make. Working with G & G Publishing, though, has felt like a crowning achievement. I can't imagine surpassing what we have accomplished here, and I owe that feeling to two people. Paris Gellar, without you this joint venture would never have occurred. Your drive and your vision never fail to inspire me. And Rory Gilmore—if someone had told me nearly ten years ago that we would be here today, I would have laughed. Your dedication and creativity made you a joy to work with these past several months." He paused, and glanced at his watch. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a flight to Italy to catch."
He descended from the stage, and made his way toward the exit at the back of the room, ignoring the chaos erupting around him. Brooke caught him by the arm, and he stopped to face her.
"What are you doing?" she hissed. "I thought…"
He didn't let her finish, smiling sadly as he said, "Brooke, I made the decision before I met you. I wanted to believe that something could change my mind, but not even you could make that happen. I'm sorry if I've disappointed you."
"You didn't disappoint me, I just…I wish things could be different."
Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan saw Rory approaching. He quickly kissed Brooke on the cheek, and said, "I really do have to go. I'll call you sometime. I promise."
He made it out to the parking lot before Rory caught up with him. "Tristan!" she yelled into the frigid wind.
His shoulders drooped in resignation, and he stopped and turned to face her. "What is it, Rory?"
"Why are you doing this, Tristan? Why are you leaving without saying goodbye? Are you aware that Emma is in hysterics inside?"
He gazed seriously at her. "And what about you? How do you feel about my leaving?"
"I…I don't want you to go."
"Then give me a reason to stay."
"I can't," she whispered.
"Then I have to leave."
"At least tell me why," she pleaded. "Don't I deserve that much?"
He laughed bitterly. "I'm not sure you deserve anything, but I'll tell you anyway. I'm in love with you, Rory, and I can't stay here and watch you marry Ryan. I just can't. So I'm leaving."
He didn't give her time to respond, just turned and sprinted to his car. He slammed the door with more force than necessary and twisted the key violently in the ignition. As he waited for the car to warm up, he turned and watched Rory run back into the country club. He left a few minutes later, never looking behind him.
He never saw Rory come running back out of the building, Jess' keys clutched in her hand.
He didn't see her peel out of the parking lot, determined to catch up with him.
He didn't hear the blast of the semi's horn; didn't see the car spin out of control as Rory frantically tried to avoid the truck.
He didn't see the crumpled remains of the car, or Rory's still, bloody form inside it.
And when the ambulance screamed past him a few moments later, sirens wailing, lights flashing, it never occurred to him that it was racing to save the life of the woman he loved.
To be continued…