Title: The Worst Guilt
Chapter 4: A New Way of Looking at Things
Rating: Pg-13 for now, haven't decided exactly where it will go
Disclaimer: If I actually owned the show…ok, the dialogue wouldn't be as good, but the plots would be better this season. (I'd rant about Tues episode, but this isn't the place).
Summary: Tory, not exactly AU, just future fic. Not a triangle fic. The plot is based VERY loosely on a book I read, so I can't take all the credit. Oh, and I'm making the corporate centre of the Huntzberger empire in New York. For any minor necessary plot points, see previous chapters.
"My mother is coming to New York this weekend," Rory was saying to him as she came out into the living room, pulling on the jacket of her pantsuit.
Tristan was up, and half awake, sitting on the couch. He hadn't been up this early in years – life in Florida hadn't exactly been fast paced; he hadn't seen dawn in a long time. But he had been woken up by her racing around the apartment to get ready, obviously used to being there all alone.
"I'm being evicted," he nodded in understanding.
"Oh, no," she looked surprised at his words, but in truth she hadn't realized he was staying in the very guestroom her mother usually stayed in, "Don't worry about that. I was just informing you as your presence will be something of a shock to her."
Better not to mention the lingering bitterness Lorelai held at Tristan's disappearance four years ago. She had been indignant on her daughter's behalf, expressing what Rory herself was never able to. It wasn't that she didn't love Tristan, she had, but to watch him abandon everything that was supposed to his responsibility and have it fall on Rory's shoulders when she was in the middle of grieving had not sat well with her.
"She'll be happy to see you," she told Tristan, hoping her words weren't a lie.
She also didn't mention the reason for Lorelai's spur of the moment visit, for that was really what it was. She had called her mother the previous afternoon, and had conveyed her need to 'get out on the dating scene' again, even if she hadn't expressed it so explicitly. Her mother was still her closest friend, and the only one she could really share the information with. And even if Lorelai didn't understand what a momentous decision this was for her, she understood a need for new clothes. And if there was something Lorelai Gilmore did well, it was shop – hence, the visit.
She had suggested he come in with her to the office today, get back into the swing of things, but he had protested again, reaffirming his intention to not take over her job. She had argued with him again, but he had just sighed and said they'd talk about it later. He promised however that he would come by and take her to lunch – might as well let everyone know he was back, he had friends and acquaintances there he had worked with for years. She couldn't remember the last time she had time for a real lunch break, but today she was making an exception for him.
She felt bad, not being able to house her mother here, but she'd put her up at the Plaza. Lorelai would love staying at the Plaza. Of course she'd pretend to be 'Eloise' the whole time, but that was half the fun. Sometimes she had to remind herself that she had money to do things like that if she wanted to.
"I have a spare set of keys in my desk drawer," she told him as she slipped on her shoes. "Help yourself to anything that you want, not that there's much here food or otherwise. And I really wish you'd come…."
"Not today Rory," he interjected firmly, spoiling the effect when he yawned loudly once again, and she smiled. "I'll come by around noon for lunch, is that allright?"
She nodded, "That should be good." Even if she had a million things to do, she'd make it work. "You still have your security pass and everything?" she knew he did, it was how he had gotten in the night before, but it was subtle reminder that he was to come up to her office, not wait on the street for her. He had been less enthusiastic about announcing his presence then she was, but she had insisted.
He nodded, acknowledging the reminder for what it was. "I'll see you then."
"See you later," she replied, checking her appearance quickly in the mirror before she let herself out the door.
"Bye," his word heard only by himself as the door slammed shut behind her.
Sound on the twentieth floor didn't stop the moment he stepped off the elevator, it just seemed like it. At least that's what Tristan told himself as he saw the shocked gazes of his former co-workers looking back at him.
He stood awkwardly for a moment, not even sure which way to walk. It was a large floor, and he didn't even know which office was Rory's. He didn't know if she had taken over Logan's office or not.
"Tristan," one of those staring finally got over the shock and approached him. He recognized the man. John Silverman, the Chief Financial officer of the Huntzberger empire, with the company since nearly it's inception. "It's good to see you."
Tristan accepted the statement with a grain of salt. John was a bit of a dick, and a rather controlling one at that. The only reason he had gotten as far as he had in life was because Mitchum had taken a shine to the man. He could only thank God Rory had taken over as CEO instead of letting is pass to him. "Good to see you too John."
"How's your aunt? When did you get back?" John asked the questions rather stupidly, as if he had no idea which one he wanted the answer to more.
"She's managed a full recovery," Tristan lied, not wanting to discuss his personal life with the man. "I got back just last night in fact. I'm here to take Rory to lunch actually, we have plans."
When John nodded Tristan knew that this was in essence why Rory had wanted him to come up here to meet her. Not so much to announce he was back, that was easy to get out, but to illustrate the fact there was no discord between the two of them. There was going to be no struggle for power between the two of him now that he had returned.
"Where's her office?" Tristan finally asked, annoyed, when John still kept staring at him with his jaw dropped. His presence here was not that shocking.
"Last one on the left wall," John finally said, and Tristan left him standing there, mouth agape, as he made his way towards Rory's office.
He walked towards her office, aware of the fact that those in the cubicles that lined the middle of the room, and even those in the main offices, were staring at him like he had grown a second head. He realized it had been four years since he had disappeared rather suddenly, but this intense fascination they had with his presence was unsettling as he wasn't used to being the center of attention.
He paused for a moment outside what had used to be Logan's office. Somebody was just opening the door and going in; as he looked inside he could see that what used to be the most luxurious office on the floor had been modified into a glorified storage area. He forced himself to move on.
"I'm here for lunch with Mrs. Huntzberger," he told the woman who was manning the desk outside of Rory's office. He just assumed that was the name she was going by at work. "She's expecting me."
"Mr.Dugrey," the woman told him with a smile. "Welcome back." He didn't recognize her, but that didn't mean she hadn't been here four years ago. It was a big company, he wasn't going to pretend that he knew the name of everyone who worked there. "I'll let Mrs. Huntzberger know you're here. She's just finishing up on a conference call with the Chicago office." But then her phone rang, and she picked it up quickly.
Oh Christ, he hoped that didn't mean she'd take a long time. He didn't know what else to do except stand there, his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets as he tried to non-chalantly look around the room. Aesthetically, nothing had changed much.
Fortunately, it was only a moment before her office door opened and Rory came out, her face lighted up with a smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she apologized, even though he knew she was abandoning a lot of work just to have lunch with him.
"No problem," he forced a smile, still ill at ease from the experience of being back.
Her assistant hung up from the call she had taken, and cleared her throat quietly, trying to signal Rory's attention. "It's Mr. Yatagawa from Tokyo for you."
Rory nodded. The Japanese expansion had been her pet project this past year. The Huntzberger empire already controlled a significant portion of the newspaper industry in the United States, and she had realized expansion locally would serve no real purpose. She had decided on the need to assert some influence outside of the US, and had started slowly, buying controlling interests in a few key Japanese newspapers. "I have to take this," she told Tristan regretfully. "It won't take long." And he nodded in understanding.
With her gone her assistant turned to him with a twinkle in her eye, "Janice McEwen," she introduced herself as she held out her hand to him. "Sorry to be presumptuous before, it's just I remember you from your time here. I was however working in the accounting department at the time, so you probably have no idea who I am."
"Nice to meet you," he replied a little sheepishly, taking the offered hand.
"I hope everything is allright with your aunt," although it unnerved him that everyone in this place knew about his personal life, at least her query was filled with real concern.
"Aunt Elizabeth made full recovery," he found himself explaining once again. "She's well enough to stay alone now, so I figured it was time to come home." He contemplated taking out a billboard to that effect so he wouldn't be plagued with the same repeated question over and over.
Fortunately Janice didn't pursue the subject further. "It must be nice to be back in New York," she replied with a smile, obviously trying to keep him occupied until her boss returned.
"There's no place quite like it," he answered honestly, even though he knew that city itself had no real influence at all on his feelings about returning.
Janice moved onto another topic however. "Rory knows everything about this place," she was saying, slipping from the formality she usually used in front of other employees and clients. The two women had worked closely enough over the last four years to be well acquainted. Her voice was filled with intense pride as she told him about the Japanese expansion. He was surprised at the end when she added, "You'll find things running better than ever when you come back to work."
So Rory wasn't the only one who was under the impression he would be taking over right where he left off. Although he wasn't sure if it was because Janice herself assumed he would be returning, or if Rory had instructed her that he would.
But that wasn't something to be explored right then. "I'm sure things are running just fine," he told the woman smoothly. Might as well enhance that whole 'no discord' thing Rory was intent on showing the rest of the company. "I never would have been able to leave to take care of Aunt Elizabeth if I hadn't known there would be someone capable of doing such an excellent job. Rory's done more for this company that I could have ever imagined doing. " Of course he hadn't known she'd take over, but it was obviously the right outcome.
But by the time he was concluding his little speech Rory had returned from her office. "Nonsense," she replied with a blush. "I haven't done anything spectacular."
"She really can't take a compliment," her told her assistant in a conspiratorial tone he often used with woman, winking at her as he smiled. And, although it reeked of arrogance, he could see the lust forming in the woman's eyes. "Now you Janice, you look like a woman who could take a compliment…."
He ignored Rory's eye roll as she turned to her assistant. "I'm taking a long lunch Janice. If something crucial comes up I have my cell."
"Yes Mrs. Huntzberger," the woman replied dutifully, blushing a little as she stared at Tristan as they walked away.
Tristan took note of the not so discrete stares still fixated on them as they walked to the elevators, even if Rory didn't.
"You're incorrigible," she hissed good naturedly as they finally stood in the elevator. "For God's sake, leave my assistant alone."
He grinned at her. This was good, he decided. They could fall back into their old roles and habits, and he could pretend nothing had changed. He would go back to his playboy role, and she would go back to pretending it shocked her, and it would all be like it was before Logan died. Last night had been an aberration, seeing her for the first time in so long, and he hadn't been able to have the careful persona he usually adopted in place.
And it wasn't like it was all an act. He had habitually hit on girls for years, charming them into falling for him. Rory herself had quipped he had probably hit on the doctor who had delivered him. Of course it had never worked on the girls he really wanted; it had certainly never worked on her, not even in high school.
"I realize that most of them tend to love you," she was continuing on, lecturing him as if he were brain dead, "But remind yourself that when you come back, the last thing you want to have to deal with is a sexual harassment suit."
He had never hit on women who worked for him before; that was one line he would never cross. It hurt a little for her to think he would. But he supposed he had just started to hit on her assistant, even if he didn't view himself as the boss there anymore. "It won't be an issue," was all he said to reassure there, and tried to throw a playful noted into his voice, "It never is."
And she just rolled her eyes. "It's going to be madness now that you are back."
He looked at her, confused, and she gave a little snort. "Did you really think your reputation would fade just because you went away for a little while?"
"I don't think four years counts as a 'little while'," he qualified, "And…what reputation?"
She just shook her head. "Trust me Tristan, the woman of New York remember you. I suppose I tend to run into the same people as I don't get out much, but women still talk about you, you know."
He looked aghast at that, and muttered, "Not to you, I hope."
"Especially to me," she pointed out. "Of course it's not so much the 'interesting stories' I get to listen to though, no, it's the endless queries as to how you're doing, and when you're planning to come back. Hopefully now that you're back and woman can throw yourselves directly, I won't have to act as the go between."
"I'm not that bad," he insisted.
"Aren't you?" she asked the rhetorical question with a shrug of her shoulders.
With that he was speechless. It wasn't as if this was the first time they had had this conversation. She had berated him on what she termed his 'womanizing' countless times before, but he thought it had always been in jest. But now there was an edge to her voice, a jab that hadn't been there before.
As the elevator doors opened in front of them, he had no idea how to respond.
It was somewhere between the time the waiter had come to take their drink orders and the time the salad came that Rory began to fidget. She knew she had to talk to Tristan, at least generally, about her decision to date again. Not because he had a right to judge her personal life, but because he was about the only one who might see her decision to 'get out there' again as a betrayal of Logan.
But she was never one for subtlety.
Or good timing.
"I want a husband," she blurted out the words as the waiter set down there salads in front of them, and the poor man made a hasty retreat.
"Sorry?" she had shocked the hell out of him, he had almost spit out the sip of water he had just taken. She hadn't said the words to elicit this sort of reaction, but it was sort of satisfying in a way to see him taken so off-guard, like a deer caught in the headlights, his jaw practically sitting on the table.
"I'm going to start dating again," she shrugged in what she hoped was carefree manner as she speared a piece of lettuce with her fork. "Is there something so odd in that?"
He mouth opened and shut a couple times before he replied cautiously, "Well….no….."
"I'm twenty-eight." She interjected. "I'll be twenty-nine soon."
He was well aware of how old she was, but his brain wasn't functioning quite perfectly after her blatant announcement. "So?" he thought that was the word he had choked out.
"Logan's been dead for four years," her voice hitched a little at that statement, but she kept on going. "I'm not so old that I can't still have a husband, can't still have children."
"Of course not," he agreed with her, not knowing what his role in this conversation was.
"And I shouldn't have to explain myself to you!" her voice was annoyed as she made the statement.
"I wasn't asking you to!" he exclaimed, knowing he was looking at her as if she had grown two heads, all the while wondering what had happened to the logical person who used to be Rory Gilmore.
She was immediately contrite, "Sorry, I didn't mean to overreact like that," she rested her hand on his across the table, and he fought the urge to snatch his away as if burned, "It's just, this is so hard to talk to you about."
"What's going on Rory?" he guiltily let his fingers intertwine with hers.
"I can't mourn Logan forever," she replied. "I mean, I can, and I will, but…" she stopped for a moment, hating that she was close to sobbing the middle of her favourite restaurant, "I can't live my life like this forever."
Then she said that statement that cut into him like a knife, "I'm just….so lonely."
Her loneliness had nothing to do with him directly. In fact, even if he had been here she would have still felt that emptiness when she came home at night, but Tristan didn't realize that, and he let guilt overtake him.
"Rory…" he began, but wasn't sure how to finish what he was going to say.
Rory meanwhile was sitting there mortified. When she said it like that, it sounded so selfish, so stupid. But Tristan was still clutching her hand gently, he hadn't pulled away in shock, so she didn't feel the immediate need to go throw herself off a cliff. "It seems like I'm betraying his memory by even considering it….." Tristan had been Logan's closest friend in the whole world, she couldn't bear it if he blamed her for wanting something more.
"It's been four years Rory," she heard his words, filled with no condemnation, and she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "You're not betraying his memory by considering dating again. He wouldn't have wanted you to live like a nun for the rest of your life."
He squeezed her hand tighter as he continued. His reassurances had nothing to do with furthering his own agenda, he had sworn that he would never act on his feelings, it had everything to do with reassuring her because she seemed convinced he would look down on her for not grieving Logan forever. "He would have wanted you to be happy," he told her softly, trying to give her that absolution Logan himself wasn't there to give her.
Not caring where they were he shuffled his chair around the table so he was sitting closer to her, not releasing her hand the whole time. "There's nothing to feel guilty about," his words were gentle as he put a hand on her shoulder.
"I don't know how to move on," she replied desperately, "But I have to change something, because…….."
And then the weirdest thing happened. Well, maybe weird wasn't the word for it, not an adequate adjective to describe the feeling as if she had been punched in the stomach, unable to breath properly.
Because as she was speaking she had turned to Tristan. There was nothing odd in that, she had probably done it a million times before. It should have been a simple thing. He might have been gone for four years, but she knew his hair, she knew his smile, she even knew his scent; in short, she knew everything about him….except this time it was different.
Not that he was so close to her; although unexpected, it had happened before. It was in what she noticed when she stared up at him. She knew his eyes were blue, but she had never really noticed the little flecks in them before, the little movements as his iris expanded and contracted. She had never expected her eyes to drop to his lips that were not that far from hers. She knew what their appearance was, sure, but she had never really looked at them. Even when he had kissed her cheek in the past she had never dwelled on what they really felt like; not until today.
"I have to go," she said rather stupidly, shooting to her feet.
He looked incredulous, "Now? We just got here. I know you're CEO Rory, but even you need to eat….."
"It's not that, I forgot about a meeting I have at one," she lied quickly; fortunately he didn't appear to realize that if Janice was even a half-capable assistant she would have reminded Rory of the meeting before she left for lunch.
He looked unconvinced, but nodded all the same, "I'll go get the cheque," he told her, standing up from the table to find their absent waiter, but then he paused. "Are you allright?" she knew she was acting out of sorts, and could almost feel the red in her cheeks.
"Just fine," she tried to assure him, but knew the tone wouldn't fool even a simpleton, so she added more carefully. "I'm fine, really, it's just I don't want to be late for the meeting." He knew enough of her fixation with responsibility to know that to be true. And when he nodded and went to find their waiter, she let out a deep breath. She couldn't let him know what had transpired in her rather twisted mind when he had been simply comforting her.
She had always known Tristan was handsome, or rather 'hot' as her mother termed it. But it was more an abstract sort of knowledge. She had brown hair, the sun rose in the east, the sky was blue, and Tristan was handsome. It had never been something she had dwelled on. He was Tristan, her and her husband's friend, no matter how many times he had hit on her in high school.
But all of a sudden…..just now…she'd looked at him and seen something entirely new.
She'd seen a man.
And it scared the living shit out of her.
Sorry it's so short. It didn't seem this short when I wrote it, and then I saw the word count……