Rory and Logan stepped out onto the pedestrian street, making their way through a tourist group heading towards their car that already waited for them. The driver already knew her, greeting her by her name.
"Please, call me Rory," she insisted, making Logan smile. That was so her. Never once had he seen her treat someone serving her as anything less than equal. It had been her in fact who'd criticised him for that, and made him want to change for the better. He had, and when it came to his work-relationships, it had certainly paid off earning the respect of his employees and the approachability that he considered important. In that sense Rory had in a way shaped the person he'd become.
"Is it going to be weird, me coming to work with you?" she asked hesitantly, not sure if she really belonged there, as she'd buckled her seatbelt and the car drove off.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm not hiding you or anything, but I was thinking of saying you're a friend of mine from the New York Times if anyone asked," he explained.
"That's fine, I expected something like that," Rory replied. Truth was the best policy in situations like this and whatever else they were, they were friends too.
"I have a couple of short meetings and I need to sign some things, but it should take long. You can hang out in my office until then. Unless of course you want to go explore the city on your own. That'd be fine too," Logan said, sounding a little nervous.
"I'll be fine. I'd much rather see where you work," she said. Work was a big part of his life, and she wanted to understand it as well as she could. She'd heard him speak about his projects, seeing his eyes light up the day they'd met at the conference. Seeing him in his work mode could only help to get to know the person he was these days.
It was perhaps ten minutes later when the car pulled up in front of a modern office building in the busy business district. As they walked through the lobby and took the elevator to the 7th floor, Logan was bombarded with greetings and minor questions.
"You're a wanted man, Huntzberger," she noted, playfully, as the two were briefly left alone, walking down the corridor towards his office.
"Lena, would you please make a visitor pass for Ms. Lorelai Gilmore, and bring it to my office," he said to his assistant, before opening his office door.
The office overlooked a large park and behind it they could see a vast part of the city.
"That's one hell of a view," she sighed.
"We'll I'm not complaining," he said smugly, focusing on another type of view altogether, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. The sensation of his hands on her abdomen lit a small slow burning flame inside of her, making her want to close her eyes and stay in that moment forever.
A knock on the door made him step back, reluctantly.
"Ah, Danke," he said, accepting the visitor pass, which he handed to Rory. "Here, just in case. They are quite strict here with trespassers," he smirked. "But okay, my meeting is almost starting, I better go. Feel free to use my computer if you want, the password is 'longmorrow', one word," he added in whisper, giving her a brief kiss, before leaving.
That little detail he'd dropped, somewhat unexpectedly, left her a little flushed. She hadn't watched the Twilight Zone since she'd seen it with him in her grandparent's pool house. But that episode she would always know by heart. How could she possibly forget that and the gesture that followed? But as the door shut behind him, she felt a little guilty. It was clear Logan still remembered, and if he had wanted to forget about her, he wouldn't have chosen that password. Had he really carried her around in his mind all that time? Maybe he was once again three steps ahead of her?
She didn't really need to use his computer at all, settling for the "Station Eleven" she found in his bookshelf, having been dying to read it, finding a comfortable place in one of the armchairs. Not a bad way to spend a few hours, she thought.
Logan returned an hour and a half later. "I'm sorry, that took longer than I thought," he said apologetically.
"I didn't mind," she replied, making a mental note of the page number she was on.
"I should've known books would keep you occupied," he noted, smilingly. "So, how about…," he began, but was interrupted by the buzz of his phone.
"Agh, shoot, I got to take this," he apologized.
Rory continued to read, at least she attempted.
"Hi dad, what can I do for you?" Logan asked, casually.
"I see," he continued to add.
"I just talked to him, he seemed to be on board with the transfer," he continued.
"Yes, I understand that, but shouldn't that be something for the HR to worry about?" he asked.
"I should be back next week, Wednesday at the latest," he added.
"Okay, tell mom I said 'hi'," he said, finishing the call.
That one-sided call had certainly caught Rory's attention. It had been years since she'd thought of Mitchum, nor Shira for the matter of fact.
"So how's Mitchum these days?" Rory asked, as he placed the phone back in his pocket.
"Alright I guess, we mostly talk about work," he sighed, "he probably travels even more than me," Logan added. The relationship he had with his dad hadn't gotten any warmer, perhaps just a bit more civil, despite working together and living, some of the time, in the same country.
"So how much do you travel exactly?" she asked, placing the book on the table in front of her.
"I have a townhouse in London and I stay there maybe half a year, not all at once, I'm here maybe two months a year, sometimes more, and the rest is wherever he needs me to go - mostly the States, Scandinavia, France, Canada," he explained, realizing that while it may have seemed exciting, when it came to routine and stability, it probably didn't present him in the best light.
"Do you do it willingly or you feel like you have to?" she continued to inquire.
"Some of it. I quite like it here, I like going to New York and seeing my friends along with it, Sweden is pretty cool, but most of it is just work. Anonymous hotel rooms and endless meetings," he explained.
"Sounds kind of sad, the last part," she sympathised.
"It's alright, it's not like I've had a good reason to stay in one place, so i've taken it as a necessity. The work needs to be done and I've been taking it on myself rather than forcing my older colleague, who have kids back home, to go if it can be helped," he added.
"I guess that's sweet of you, still… kind of sad," she commented.
"Well it is how it is," he replied humbly, leaning against his desk.
"So your dad, he must be, what, approaching 70, isn't he?" she began. "Does he still want you to take over some day?" Rory asked, carefully, remembering how it had been a gentle subject.
"He stopped talking about that when I left to California actually, he's never mentioned that again. I honestly have no idea what he is thinking. But so far it seems he aims to work until the very end. I don't even know if he can imagine himself not working, it's his life," he explained.
"Do you want that to be your life?" she continued, almost unaware how serious the conversation had just gotten.
"Wow, Ace, you're really asking some tough questions today," he sighed. "But I guess the answer is no, I want more than he has or had. I want an actual relationship and kids that I actually know, not like him and me. But I don't know, it depends on the circumstances I suppose. If those things are not there, I guess working, doing what I like is worth something," he continued, taking a deep breath.
Rory didn't doubt his words, he'd thought similarily already back then, yet now those ideas sounded more real, more immediate, within grasp.
"Now, come on, Ace, let's get out of here, let's do something more fun…," he suggested turning into his adventurous young self again, pulling Rory up from her seat. "Oh, and you can bring the book if you want," he added.
"You're sure?" she asked.
"Absolutely," he replied.