He sat at his desk once again looking out at the sun rising over the city. He was leaning back, holding the telephone to his ear listening.
"It's going fine, father
The thought crossed his mind, how unsurprising it seemed to be talking to his father at 7 in the morning about some business venture that was probably not even important to the whole of the company anymore.
He smiled as he listened to the man going on and on about it on the phone. He wondered if this was his future too. Whether at 60 years old his most important task at 7 A.M. would be to discuss some latest business affair
"I haven't decided yet. There is..." he stopped for a minute pondering "potential. Something..." he didn't have a chance to formulate that thought because just then his office door flung open with a loud thud.
He looked up and saw his editor storm in. He was caught up in the sight for a second. Her face was flushed and her determined eyes were sparkling and shooting a fiery gaze at him as she walked towards him
"You fired the photographers!" she yelled at him arriving in front of his desk and slamming a pile of notes on it
"I am going to have to call you back" Logan said replacing the receiver and rising from his chair.
He took a deep breath, it was so early in the morning, he wasn't ready for a full blown argument.
Especially with her. Why did she seem to look hotter when she was pissed
"We talked about this"
"No. YOU talked about this, you mentioned this, you proposed this, I did not agree"
"You agreed it was the right choice"
"I didn't say you could do it"
"It had to be done"
"No it didn't. An argument means listening to both sides, listing pros and cons and deciding weighing in all the information that is known. Not making some decision that you know I don't agree with behind my back"
Her gaze was piercing through him, she seemed incredibly pissed, her breathing heavy not just from yelling at him, but from the emotions stirring behind her eyes.
He looked at her and didn't say anything for a short time.
"Rory..."
She shot a glare at him bewildered.
Okay, maybe this was not the time to get to first name bases.
He started again.
"Ms. Gilmore, I am trying to do my job here. It involves making some decisions that might not be pleasant for you or your staff to deal with, but they are unavoidable. We talked about this, you acknowledged that it was a problem. There is absolutely..." he didn't have a chance to finish.
"You are ruining this place" she said almost in a low growl and with that, she stormed out of the office.
Logan was so caught off guard with this last exchange that it took him a couple of seconds to realize she was fleeing. He started after her.
"Editor? Ms. Gilmore!" he was walking after her swiftly now, walking out into the newsroom, ignoring the stares of the workers and trying to locate her.
He saw her barging into the ladies' room and walked after her.He opened the door not even stopping at the entrance and walked in making some of the ladies inside gasp in surprise.
Rory was standing in front of the sink holding onto the ledges, with her back towards him looking down and breathing heavily. She looked up at the riot and scoffed as she saw him standing in the middle of the restroom.
"Give us a minute" he said not even looking at the women. His voice was low, with a hardness Rory hadn't heard before. His eyes were transfixed on her as he waited for everyone else to leave the room.
"I wasn't done" he said, still with the low, hard voice.
"Oh I am sure you weren't" she said turning towards him, her face flushed even more. They stared at each other, neither one about to back down.
"This doesn't have to be this hard" he said his voice a slight bit softer.
"I should make it easy for you?" she asked, her glare as strong as ever.
"You shouldn't make it harder. I am trying to help" he said emphasizing every word as if that could persuade her.
"How is this helping? Those people are ours, they are family" she said pointing towards the door as if to identify the people, her voice slightly breaking.
So that's it, he thought. That's what's bothering her about this. She felt like he was destroying a family. It probably felt like that to her what with all the time he saw her spend here just in the past two days.
He stepped closer to her, his expression softening. He suddenly felt this urge to wrap his arms around her, to comfort her. He suddenly saw her not as the strong and confident woman that burst into his office, but as a helpless girl trying to keep what's important to her.
"Rory..." he tried again, saying her first name. This time she didn't protest, she looked like she had no strength to, he could see tears forming in her eyes as she looked down on the floor leaning back on the sink with one hand for support.
He stepped closer still stopping only inches away from her. With his voice barely audible now he said, almost pleading her:
"I am trying to save this paper"
She looked up at him with a broken expression, a sudden realization dawning on her.
"They are trying to shut us down" she said, more a statement then a question.
Logan sighed deeply, avoiding giving her a straight answer. He repeated himself:
"I am trying to save this paper. But you are going to have to trust me"
"Why would you do that?" she said looking in his eyes, her voice so low that if he weren't standing a mere inches away from her, he wouldn't have understood.
"I believe in it" he said.
She furrowed her brows. She was looking in his eyes intensely, still not understanding.
"Why?" she said with the word barely even coming out now.
He stared at her, stared at those incredible blue eyes, those hipnotizingly blue eyes observing them from this close.
"I just do" he said simply.
His arms reached around her, squeezing her arms and pulling her close to him. She didn't protest, she had no strength, or no will, he couldn't tell. He couldn't tell why he was doing it either. He pulled her in hugging her tightly as if he was going to reassure her about everything, as if he was more able to explain himself through this one simple gesture than with a thousand words. He heard someone coming in through the door chatting oblivious to the exchange that was taking place inside. He moved away from her and not looking back walked out of the restroom. He felt that dizziness again, that uncertain feeling. He walked back towards his office barely looking up.
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"This day has been hell. Pure and utter hell" he thought to himself.
He wondered if that constant feeling of being tired is ever going to subside. He tried to pinpoint the last time he felt rested, when he didn't feel this dull ache in every part of his body. He didn't manage. It must have been ages ago.
He found himself staring out of his office window again. It was something he liked to do, something he could do while organizing the thoughts in his head. It was late again. Too late.
He turned around and started gathering his stuff, putting his jacket on and shoving a couple of papers in his briefcase. He walked out of the room and into the newsroom that was once again dark and quiet.
He stopped dead in his track as her form came into view. She was slumped over a keyboard at one of the desks typing away oblivious to everything around her.
It must be one of her editorials she was working on, he thought to himself as he stared at her through the dark space. He smiled unintentionally seeing the determination that she was staring at the screen with.
That determination, that fire seemed to have translated into her work. He remembered reading one of her articles for the first time a couple of days ago as he was preparing for this work here. He was mesmerized by it, pulled into it. He must have read a couple dozen of her articles that night, he was so impressed.
Now standing here in the dark newsroom, watching her, he was even more amazed by her. Amazed by how young she was and how inexperienced yet still so determined. And of course there was the sort of magical effect she had on him. He couldn't deny it. He seemed to be not thinking straight when she was around.
How else could he explain the interaction in the bathroom this morning? It wasn't really professional that's for sure.
Suddenly he started walking towards her, not even thinking.
She looked up confused disturbed by the sound of his steps approaching him. He saw her take a deep breath and give a faint smile as she turned back to her work, not wanting to go into any more arguments today.
"Let's go".
Had he really said that? He was shocked himself. He saw her turn in amazement, looking at him perplexed.
"It's been a long day, you'll finish your editorial tomorrow. Let me buy you dinner" he said and was not even waiting for her answer turning away and walking towards the hallway.
He smiled as he heard her get up, shutting off her computer and gathering her stuff. He waited in the doorway and eyed her as she was making her way towards him. Her expression was nonchalant. It amused him, her not protesting or asking any questions, but agreeing silently. Probably a first for her in the last couple of days when it came to agreeing on something with him.
"I eat a lot" she said as she walked by him towards the elevator, stepping into the train that was waiting
He followed her stepping inside the elevator pushing the button, as the doors closed behind him he had a flashback from the dream he had a couple of nights before. His legs felt like they were gonna give way and he felt like he had to steady himself
"You don't like elevators much, do you?" she asked looking at him.
He looked up trying to decipher her words and realized that his embarrassment about the incredible dream he had must have come off as an actual worry. He smiled and said:
"I am working on the problem".
He wondered whether he should explain her about the uneasiness he gets when he is in a confined space with her. He figured it probably wasn't a good idea.
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Wow. She did eat a lot, he thought to himself as she watched her finishing off the last of her fries.
And she also drank a bit, he established, eyeing the handsome collection of empty beer bottles the two have managed to work their way through during the last hour or so.
She was slightly drunk, and that was probably an understatement.
"You seriously think Old Man and the Sea is his top work?" she said slightly slurring her words and concentrating on dunking a piece of fry in the ketchup smeared on her plate.
"Yeah" he said, taking another sip of his drink.
"What about Death in the Afternoon? Or A Moveable Feast? You gotta love that one, c'mon" she pointed towards him with a fry.
He chuckled "Yeah, you do. But it's not my favorite"
"What's so great about Old Man and the Sea? I wouldn't be this shocked if you would have said To whom the Bell Tolls or Farewell to Arms"
"Yeah, fortunately I didn't only read the college compulsory list, so I wouldn't say that" he said smiling and motioning at the waiter for another round of beer.
She looked at him amused.
"Is this an 'I am a loner, I am so over being caught up in life and am sitting back watching it all unravel' thing for you?
He couldn't help but smile again. He finished the last of his beer and placed the empty bottle with the rest.
"I don't know. I think it's more of an amazement. It's a force, it's the epitome of writing, that book. It's such a simple story, a tale you're told when you're young, something you know by heart without ever actually once reading it. And then you do and there it is. There isn't a word you could change. Anything to tell it better. It seems effortless. And true. It breaks my heart."
He looked down at the table as he talked, his fingers playing with one of the labels of a beer bottle. As he finished he lifted the new bottle that had just been delivered and took a sip.
Rory sat there frozen looking at him. She's never heard him speak like that when they were talking about work. He seemed to have a passion, something he could barely put into words, something that he struggled with, trying to explain to her. That touched her. She knew that feeling. All her life, she's been struggling to find the right words, and no matter what she wrote or how long she's worked on it, she never could reach that. And that's exactly what that book was for him, the unreachable perfection. Something simple and yet so indecipherable.
"Oh.." she said.
"Plus I'm crazy for fishing" he said, a smirk planted on his lips.
She smiled at the fact that he couldn't be vulnerable, that he had to make a joke to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, you gotta love fishing" she chimed in.
"Do you ever feel like you wrote the best you could?"
His question surprised her. Once again, it's like he saw into her thoughts.
"No, I don't think anyone ever does" she smiled.
"Do you miss it? Being an 'Ace Reporter'?"
She looked up at him, smiling a small smile
"Yeah, like crazy".
It was true. Being an editor had nothing to do with writing. It had to do with double checking, proofreading, correcting and organizing, but not writing.
"Ever thought about going back to it?"
"And give up editing?"
He nodded.
"It's not everyday someone my age gets a shot at editing"
"Yeah, but is it what you want? Or are you just doing it to prove a point?".
Her expression hardened, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to think hard through the haze that was forming in her head thanks to the copious amount of alcohol that she's consumed.
"I don't know. It just happened. I don't like to back away from things. I never really thought about where this is going or how, I just do it. I think I'm not too bad at it" she said a bit uncertain with an amusing look on her face.
Yeah, she was drunk.
He smiled and agreed "Yeah, you are pretty good".
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"Is this it Ace?" he asked, using her new found nickname.
"You are the devil. I am pretty sure of it by now. I am sooooo drunk" she slurred her words as she leaned on him walking down the street, stumbling with every step.
"Really, I hadn't noticed" he said smiling.
He probably was more used to the alcohol than she was, he could barely feel the affect. But then again long years of partying will get you that. He was steadying her drunken movements and trying to identify the number on the door in front of them.
"Is this your place, Rory?" he said, trying to get her to focus on finding the right address.
"I don't know, does it have a blue door?"
"No, it's brown"
"Good, my place doesn't have a blue door either"
"Acccce" he said, stressing the syllible, trying to persuade her.
"I don't know, stick in the key, if it opens it, it is" she blurted out in a high pitched voice.
He couldn't help but laugh. This was pretty unbelievable.
He took her keys and managed to open the door. He helped her into her small flat. It looked like a mess. And unused at the same time. Clothes scattered everywhere, and a lot of books. He was guessing the bedroom was in the back, so he headed that way, he could see Rory was already drifting off to sleep with only some incomprehensible drunken mumbling coming from her mouth.
He found the bedroom and placed her on her bed, removing her shoes, but stopping there. Honestly, he didn't know what to do. Undressing her would have been inappropriate probably.
"Where am I?" he heard her mumble.
"In your bed" he sighed smiling at her drunken state. She is going to have one hell of a hang-over tomorrow.
"I am setting your alarm clock for tomorrow. I doubt anyone will wake you up"
"Oh but my army of lovers will be scratching at my door first thing in the morning don't you worry" she said, her words barely understandable.
She was really amusing when she was drunk, he thought.
"Really? It doesn't look like any of your lovers are around eager to please you right now" he said chuckling, trying to at least get her to remove her coat.
"Tell me about it, I had to do that by myself last night too"
He froze at that comment. He couldn't believe he was hearing this. He didn't know whether to be amused or turned on.
A picture flashed before his eyes, from his dream again, her face and her moans.
God, this was insane.
"Really?" was all he could manage to say.
She turned, her eyes closed and drifting off to sleep already and with her one arm around his neck pulled his face into hers. She whispered in his ears slurring:
"Guess who I was thinking about" she said drawing out the words before finally falling asleep.
Her arms dropped back onto the bed.
Her words sent a heatwave through his body. He could smell her hair, almost feel her skin against his. And he sure as hell was turned on incredibly fast.
He stood up and took a deep breath, he needed to get out of here.
He covered her with a blanket and walked out of the flat thanking the heavens for the cool air that met his face as he walked out onto the late night street.