AN: Thanks for all the reviews. And of course, to M, for beta-ing.
When
You Least Expect It
07:
Shapely Legs and Italian Food
"Mom, you have to help me," Rory said as she scanned through her clothes in her closet.
"Where are you going, Little Red Riding Hood?" Lorelai asked.
Rory pulled out a pair of jeans and blue square necked blouse with long sleeves. Shaking her head, she said, "Remember that guy that I told you about? The one I met at the Speed Dating Service, the architect?"
"The one who looked like Dean?"
"Yup that's the one. Anyway, he called and asked me out on a date."
"Really? That's great! So what's the problem?"
"I don't know what to wear."
"Ah. My expertise. Seems like I still have some purpose being your mother at your age," she said. "Why don't you wear your Diane von Furstenberg black and white wrap dress and your black strappy Manolos?"
Rory pulled out the said dress and shoes. "Thanks, mom!"
"Of course! After all, I am such a fashionista."
Rory laughed. "I won't argue with you on that. Well, I have to get ready. I only have an hour and a half to prepare."
"Ok. Have fun! But not too much fun! I wouldn't do anything I would do. And make sure he's no psycho. If he tries anything, hit him where it's gonna hurt."
"Mom!"
"Fine, I'll just call Tristan and ask him to beat the crap out of this guy."
Rory paused. "You actually talk to Tristan?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean do you talk to him on a regular basis?"
"Why?" Lorelai sounded suspicious. "Are you jealous that he might be interested in me?"
Rory scrunched her nose. "No, I think that's just weird."
"Heh. Don't worry, I don't. I just call him when I can't find you or when you don't answer my calls. Seems as though you guys are connected at the hip," she commented.
"No, we're not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, we're not."
"Of course, you are."
Rory sighed. "I'm not going through this with you. Time is ticking and I need to go."
"Hah! I win! "What are you? Five?"
"Tick tock tick tock."
"Ok. Bye." Rory clicked off the phone and went to her bathroom to take a shower.
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At 7:00 on the dot, her doorbell rang and Rory quickly put on her shoes. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she opened the door. Dean-look-alike, or Michael, stood there, smiling. "Hi," he greeted.
Rory smiled. "Hi." He wasn't exactly handsome, but he was cute. And he looked put-together with his fitted black and white button down shirt, and black pants.
"So are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, just let me get my jacket and bag.
Soon they were on the elevator, and he said. "Nice dress. DVF?"
Rory looked down then turned to him. "Thanks! Yes, it's DVF."
"Thought so."
Rory's brows formed the tiniest furrow. He led her to his BMW and opened the door for her. He got in on the other side and said, "So, I thought we'd go to this nice restaurant and then go to this club that just opened."
She wasn't much of a dancer or a clubber, but it wouldn't hurt to go this time. "That would be nice." Although she wondered how they were going to get to know each other with the loud music.
The restaurant where he took her was quaint. The tables were covered in white table cloth with a candle and flowers on top. The music was relaxing and the light was dim. As soon as they were seated, a sommelier gave Michael their list of wine. Expertly, he ordered a white vintage wine. They were given a few minutes to choose their food.
"So have you thought about what you're having?"
She looked up from the menu. The names of the dishes were in French, but at least they described what they were in English. "Yes, I'll have soup and the grilled salmon please.
"Ok." The waited approached them and Michael gave them their order.
"This is a nice place," she said when the waiter left.
"Yes, it is. The best French restaurant in the city."
Rory just smiled. And this is the time when the small talk began. "So how are you? I remember that you're an architect."
"Yes, I work for Peter and Peter. Great men, really great architects."
"Are you working on some project right now?"
Michael took a sip of his wine. "Yes, I'm working on this building on the East side of the city. We're building a new hotel. Seems like the tourism industry is growing right now."
"Really? That's great!"
"So what about you? You're a writer for the Boston Globe, right?"
"Yes, I do," she said with pride. She loved what she does and she was glad she came back to school and proved Mitchum Huntzberger wrong.
"What do you write about?"
"Everything, but I mostly write about issues. Sometimes though I write about lifestyle and culture as well."
They continued to talk, from their work, a little about their family, friends, and their likes and dislikes. She found out that he liked drawing, he was from Pennsylvania, he disliked Asian and exotic food, and liked reading…magazines, particularly GQ.
Soon, it was over and of course he paid for dinner. They walked outside of the restaurant and waited for the valet to bring his car. Rory noticed that he was looking at her feet. "You have nice feet," he said. "And nice shoes. Are those Manolo Blahniks?" he asked.
Rory gave him an odd smile. "Wow! You're good with women's fashion."
"I try to keep up since I have a lot of lady friends."
Rory wasn't what to think with that. "Oh," was all she could say. She bit her lip, not knowing if she should ask her question. "Um since you know so much about fashion, I was thinking about buying this puce dress. Do you think that it's a weird color for a dress?"
"Not at all. I think the dark brownish tone of the color will suit your coloring."
Another "oh". "Thanks! I might just buy that dress." A black BMW glided in front of them then they took off to the club.
While white lights and laser lights with fast beats in the background, Rory walked behind Michael as they made their way to an empty spot. There were no more tables, the place was packed. People were mingling, drinking, taking, dancing, laughing.
"Do you want anything to drink?" he yelled over the loud music.
"Umm…I'd like a margarita please."
"Ok, wait here. I'll just get our drinks."
He disappeared through the throng of people, and she watched the people around her. Drat! No seats and her feet were killing her. Damn high heels! She looked over at the bar and saw Michael talking to two guys and a girl. Suddenly, she felt someone behind her. "Hey there. What's a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this…alone."
She whirled around ready to lash out at the person when she came face to face with familiar blue eyes and blond hair. "Tristan!"
"Hey, Rory."
"What are you doing here?"
He smirked. "Well, what do you usually do in a club? And I should be asking you that."
Rory pursed her lips. "I'm on a date with this guy, and it looks like he's forgotten about me. It's been ten minutes since he went to get our drinks."
Tristan raised his eyebrows. "A date? With whom?"
"With this guy I met at the Speed Dating service. What about you? Are you alone?"
"I'm sort of on a date as well…but we're with our friends," he said rolling his eyes. "My friend asked me if I would take her out and unfortunately, she wouldn't take no for an answer."
"I take it that it's not going well."
"It's not the worst date yet, but it's not up there in my best list."
"Here you go," Michael said, handing Rory her Margarita.
"Oh thanks!" she said then introduced the two men. "Michael, this is Tristan, a friend of mine. Tristan, this is Michael.
Michael took a long look at Tristan, from the top of his blond head to the tips of his Gucci loafers, the held out his hand. "Hi."
Tristan took it and said, "Hi."
After the introductions, Michael waved at someone behind Tristan. He turned to them and said, "I hope you don't mind but I'll just say hello to a friend of mine."
"Ok." It should've bothered Rory, but it didn't. Maybe it was because Tristan was there. She was glad that she ran into him. "Where's your date?"
"Honestly, I have no clue. She said she was gonna dance with her friends and she's been gone for 30 minutes."
"Well that sucks."
He shrugged. "It's fine actually. I don't really care."
Rory winced and shifted. Tristan noticed. "What's wrong?"
"My feet are killing me," she whined. "Damn heels!"
His gaze shifted to her feet and nodded. "Those shoes must be killing you." Looking around for an empty table, he saw a group vacate a booth. "Come on. Let's take a seat." His hand went to the middle of her back and he led her to the empty seats.
Rory sat down on the couch and Tristan sat at the low table opposite her. Grasping her right foot, he started to remove her shoe. "What are you doing?" she asked nervously.
"Removing your shoe," he said, and gave her foot a gentle massage, starting with her heel then to the balls of her foot.
Tristan was a leg man, and he was a sucker for dainty feet. Rory had both; the shapely legs and the pretty feet.
Rory blushed but Tristan's hand felt good. The massage he gave her was gentle but firm, and she wondered how it would feel to have him give her a body massage. Mentally shaking her head, she steered clear of those thoughts. "Thanks." Tristan gave the same attention to the other foot. "Maybe you shouldn't wear your sandals first. Let your feet rest. Why are you wearing these anyway?"
"Because they're nice and they my legs and feet look sexy."
"You already have sexy feet and legs even without these shoes," Tristan stated.
Not knowing else what to do, she mumbled a thanks.
Both relaxed and quietly watched the people around them, when an idea struck Tristan. "Hey, do you want to get out of here?" he asked.
Rory looked at him. "What? Where are we going? And what about Michael?"
"I don't know, I thought maybe we can get something to eat. He's still talking to his friend," he said, pointing at the two men by the bar. "Seems like he's enjoying talking to him that hanging out with you, the ass."
Michael was being a jerk and she really didn't care what he thought. She was sure that she was never going to see him again, hanging out with Tristan would be much more fun than going on a date with this guy. "Ok, I'll just say good bye."
Tristan nodded. "Yeah, I'll tell my friends too, and my date."
"I'll meet you in front in five minutes."
Approximately ten minutes later, they were outside of the club, breathing in fresh air. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"Your feet? How are they?"
"A bit better." Rory bit her lip. "Tris, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"What shoes am I wearing?"
He gave her a confused look. "What shoes are you wearing?" he asked then once again looked at her sandal clad feet. "Umm…black strappy high heels?"
"No, I mean do you know what brand they are?"
"Uh…is there a point to this question?"
"Just answer it."
"Ralph Lauren?" he said, saying the first designer that popped in his head.
Rory shook her head. "They're Manolo Blahniks. Do you know what color puce is?"
Tristan paused. "Is that a joke?"
Rory laughed, a full carefree laugh. "Oh geez!"
"What?"
"I think Michael's gay." Tristan almost shuddered and she continued. "He knows what dress and the shoes I'm wearing, and he knows the color puce."
He didn't know if he should feel insulted, but he just laughed. "Well I don't know who you're wearing but you look nice."
Blushing for the third time that night, she said softly, "Thanks. You look nice too. I like this color on you." She reached and fixed the collar of his light blue shirt. It brought out the color of his eyes.
"Thanks," he said. "Well I'm sorry your date turned out to be queer," he said shaking his head, laughing.
Rory laughed with him. "It's fine."
"Well at least there's no weird good night kiss."
"Yeah!" she said, shaking her head." Soft wind blew and Tristan reached out, and tucking a hair behind Rory's ear. Her heart did a little skip, but she decided to ignore it and said, "Where to now?"
"I know this Irish-Italian restaurant. It's owned by a friend of mine so we can still go there even though it's a bit late."
"Which one?"
"Da Panza. They have pasta, chicken, steak, and good wine and…coffee."
She squealed in excitement. "So what are you waiting for? Let's go."
Tristan shook his head. He was pretty sure her enthusiasm was due to the mention of coffee. "Do your feet still hurt? Want me to carry you to the car?"
Rory waved her hand. "They're still aching but I'll be fine."
Tristan smiled. "Ok."
The way to a Gilmore girl's heart...good food and coffee...and massages too.
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