A/N: Sorry to leave you guys hanging. I went on a very very long family vacation. But I am home now and I can finally get back to the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls. I said a couple of chapters back that if I did, I would have it on TV everyday. It was pointed out that it is on ABC Family everyday, but that channel just makes me mad because they stick an extra commercial break in the last segment, which is just unnecessary. So if I owned the show, I would put it on without the extra break, and I would have done season six completely differently. But that's a whole other rant…

Chapter Four

"Tristan, open up," Rory called, unable to free her hands to knock on the door. "Don't leave me waiting out here forever."

Tristan groaned and rolled out of bed, glancing at the clock as he stood. He crossed the room and opened the door. "You do know that it is only ten in the morning and you are out of your mind for waking me up."

Rory pushed past him and walked across the room to the arm table where she placed the two coffees and the stack of newspapers she was carrying.

"We have a lot to do today," she said. "There's no use lazing about until mid afternoon."

"But we just got off the phone-" he looked at the clock again, "five hours ago."

"Well, you know what they say. Haste makes waste."

"What? That doesn't make any sense."

Rory's cheerful face fell slightly as she considered what she said. "Well, I don't know, I haven't had any coffee yet." She took one of the large coffee cups from the drink carrier and sat down on Tristan's messy bed. With a small groan and a large stretch, Tristan grabbed his own cup and sat down next to her.

"What are the papers for," he asked at length.

"Job listings."

"What?"

"Well, I was thinking about this whole independence thing. Working for your father is useless because you will just be back under his will. You need to find your own job, make your own name."

"I hardly think that the Classifieds will help me find my dream job. When have you ever known the Hartford paper to publish job listings for top companies?"

Rory shrugged. "It's a start, isn't it?" She tossed him a paper. "Now, you majored in Business, right?"

"Right."

"So do you have any ideas about where you would want to work, what kind of business?"

"Well, I assumed it would be insurance, but…"

"Do you have any fields that you would refuse to work in?"

"Insurance," he answered, causing Rory to smile.

---

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An hour and a half later, they had made little progress. Rory had gotten her hopes up when Tristan pulled out his cell phone, but her hopes plummeted as she heard him make an offer on a vintage car.

Tristan snapped his phone closed, a disappointed look on his face. "He already sold it," he said.

Rory rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's such a shame. I know how much you need another vintage car."

"Hey!"

"But, since you have your phone out…"

"What?" he asked, a little defensively.

"Call him, Tristan," she said, the playful tone gone from her voice.

He just looked away.

"It's been three days. You can't ignore this forever."

Tristan remained silent for a minute or so. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, he flipped open his phone and dialed the number of his father's office.

It rang twice before the secretary picked up. "CEO's office, Molly speaking."

He didn't know why, but he put the call on speakerphone.

"Hi Molly, this is Tristan. Is my father available by any chance?"

"Not right now, sweetie. He's in the middle of a business call."

Tristan looked over at Rory fixing her with an 'I told you so' look, but she just sternly gestured back towards the phone.

"I'm sure he's busy, but this is extremely important."

They listened as Molly let out a sigh. "I'll put you on hold. I can't make any promises though."

"I understand," Tristan replied. "Thank you, Molly."

"Anytime, Sugar."

The line switched over to some cheesy jazz music as he was put on hold. Tristan let out a sigh. Rory put her hand on his knee in an act of support. He ran his free hand through his hair, trying to ignore the effect the simple gesture was having on him.

They listened to the music in silence for a few minutes. Tristan finally let out a laugh, which provoked Rory to smile.

"This stuff is bad," she said. "They really should ban soft jazz from hold lines."

The line picked up in the middle of their laughterduring an incredibly piercing note.

"Janlen Dugrey speaking."

"Grandfather?" Tristan said, the surprise in his voice mirroring the look of fear that Rory read in his face. The laughter was gone from his eyes.

"Who is this?"

"It is Tristan, Sir. I was hoping to catch my father."

"He is indisposed at the moment."

Rory saw the struggle in Tristan's face.

"We have been waiting to hear from you for a very long time, Young Man," Janlen Dugrey said sternly. "You have no idea what an uproar you have caused."

"I know, Sir."

"No you don't know!" he boomed. Tristan winced slightly, and quickly took him off speakerphone and raised the cell back to his ear. "You need to explain yourself, even though I doubt that there is an explanation that will suffice."

"I couldn't marry her," he said simply.

"Of course you could marry her. Saying that you 'could not' marry her implies that you were incapable of taking part in the ceremony and taking a wife. Now, is there any reason, whether medically, or physically, you were incapable of marrying Shelly?"

"Not medically or physically-"

"Fine then. This is a simple matter of you not wanting to marry the girl. And if that is the case, then I have lost all respect for my grandson. Walking out on that marriage was the most selfish thing you could have done for everyone."

"What about Shelly," Tristan asked, the anger at his grandfather's condescending tone finally preventing him from remaining composed. "Shelly deserves someone better than me, someone who can give her a nice life."

"You would have had a glorious life. However, you ruined that for her by leaving her as a jilted bride. Do you know what that will do for her reputation?"

"Oh, fuck her reputation," Tristan said sternly. Rory started rubbing small circles around his knee, which could only have been an unconscious attempt to calm him. Tristan looked at her sympathetic face and used her presence as a reminding of what he was fighting for: freedom from the life that kept her away from him.

"Tristan, do not use that tone with me."

He took a deep breath. "Listen," he said, more composed. "I am sorry that I handled things the way I did. I should not have let this relationship reach the point that it did; we should never have made it to the altar. I was unable to do the right thing and break it off years ago. But it is done, and now we all have the opportunity to move on."

"Your mother hasn't come out of her room in days. She feels like she cannot face society after what you have done."

"She doesn't need those catty women."

"She's drinking again."

"She's been an alcoholic my whole life. Please don't pretend otherwise, don't act like that is my fault."

"Tristan-"

"I didn't call you to apologize about what I did," he said, realizing for the first time what, exactly, his point was. "I will be at the house tomorrow to pack up my things."

"Where are you, Tristan?" Janlen asked with irritation.

"I'm still in New Haven," he said, without thinking. As soon as the words escaped his lips, he groaned.

"Are you with that girl?"

Nothing slipped past Janlen Dugrey. That was what made him the amazing businessman. He remembered things.

Tristan looked over at Rory, saw how she was trying to decipher the other end of the conversation. He didn't want to have to drag her into this. He didn't want her name tangled up in the whispers that would circulate his decision to leave. Not like this, not with Logan in London…

"Damn it, Tristan," Janlen cursed, the long pause obviously enough of an answer for him. "Can't you see what this is doing to the family?"

"That isn't why I left," he insisted, more calmly.

Janlen sighed. "Shelly used this as an excuse to go back to that beach bum in California."

Tristan let out a slight laugh at hearing his conservative grandfather call someone a 'beach bum.'

"What are we going to do with you, Tristan?" he sighed, affection returning to his voice.

"I need to get away," he answered honestly. "Please give me that much."

The old man was silent for a long time. Tristan listened to the static on the line as he pictured the old man at James' desk, head in hands, defeated. The image frightened him.

"You were our last hope, Tristan," he said at last. "Your parents already lost Mason, it would kill your mother to lose you."

Tristan repressed a sarcastic laugh. He hardly believed those words. His mother had never showed enough affection for him to believe such a statement. "Just give me this and you won't lose me. If you tie me to Shelly, to the company, I can't promise to be what you want me to be."

"What are you asking me? Are you asking for an allowance so that you can go be a playboy?"

What was he asking for? His grandfather's money would be a help, especially since he was unemployed.

"Just your blessing," he responded. "And your support. Make my parents understand that I need some time to live my life before I can return to their world and play by their rules. It is the only way."

"Fair enough," Janlen said. "I will talk to them. I will give you two months to get your finances in order. Starting September First I will have all of your accounts frozen and your bills put into your own name."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Now as for this girl, please Tristan, if she really means that much to you, treat her better than you treated Shelly. You have disappointed us by refusing Shelly, but this Gilmore girl is from a good family. If you love her, treat her with more respect."

"You can count on it, Sir."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye." He closed his phone and looked up at Rory, who knew nothing of the words exchanged about her throughout the conversation.

"So?"

"I have two months to get my shit together before he cuts me off. But I think he understands. He says he will try to talk to my family for me."

She smiled, proud of him. "Good for you, Tristan. Don't you feel better now that we got that over with?"

Tristan laughed at Rory's coaching. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"If you had told me how scary your grandfather is, I wouldn't have let you called," she replied.

"If I had known he would be answering my father's phone I wouldn't have let myself call either. I'm more afraid of him than of my father. But I guess that's because he was the disciplinarian, my father wasn't around to take care of such things himself."

Rory felt the pang of sadness that she felt whenever she though of Tristan's empty childhood. She knew what it was like to have an absent father, but his whole life was cold. Rory had an entire town raising her, looking out for her happiness. Tristan couldn't even find that in one person.

Rory stood and stretched. "I should go," she said. "Paris wants me to show up to her Yale Daily News boot camp that she's 'offering' for the new editors."

Tristan stood and walked her to the door. "Thank you," he said as he opened the door to her. She turned to face him, and without thinking he pulled her gently towards him and kissed her softly on her forehead. Rory closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth of his touch. She lingered a moment longer than she should have, and said a soft goodbye, leaving Tristan standing in the doorway, thinking of his grandfather's unexpected advice.