A/N: yay! a quick update. and thank you so much for the reviews. i love the feedback. so i wrote this one pretty fast compared to the other ones. i think its because im back in school, i sort of just want to write more to improve, and the avoiding homework factor always helps (like right now, im avoiding studying for a spanish quiz i have next block). but anyways, this chapter gives more of a background and its a semi-cliffhanger, maybe, im not quite sure. so the next chapter will be a talk and maybe some sort of a confrontation of some sort. i also added a little twist towards the end. :-) tell me what you think. enjoy and review.

chapter three

She grumbled in her roll desk chair, sliding the chair off the plastic mat on the carpet, causing her chair to tilt. "God!" she yelled exasperated, thankful for the walls and closed blinds surrounding her posh office. What else could you expect for the head of the company.

Rory and her best friend, Paris Gellar started a PR firm in the business district of New York City, and after a few struggling years, they broke through the roof and now emerged as one of the top firms in the business of public relations. With a degree in journalism and news broadcasting with only a minor in public relations from Yale didn't exactly entail this, Rory ended up loving her job and the people she worked with.

However, starting this company also meaning she had to leave home, Stars Hollow to move to New York, which was daunting at first. Now she talked to her mother frequently and had multiple close friends in New York, including Paris and Logan.

Was Logan even considered her friend or something else?

She all but growled when her secretary, Anita, knocked on her door and poked her head through. "Um, Mr. Huntzberger is on the phone, Ms. Gilmore. On line two," she added.

Rory, too fed up with people for the day, waved her hand at Anita and picked up her phone, pressing the Line 2 button. "What?" she said, her voice snappy.

"Wow, you're still at work. And here I thought you didn't stay a minute past six every night."

"What do you want? I'm not in the mood."

"So I can tell. Does this mean you don't want Chinese food?" he asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "You can't stay at the office forever."

She smiled at his concern. "Aw, thanks for the thought. But it's only eight o'clock. I've got about four hours to go here." She looked down at the file in front of her. Some new restaurant that was some blue-blooded family who was just spending some inheritance money on a "new swank dining experience". And who did they go to for their advertising?

"Come on, leave it alone for the night! Go in early tomorrow and work then," he tried to persuade her.

"Because I know I won't get here early. Someone, meaning you, will end up keeping me up all night if I leave now to eat with you."

She could hear the smirk in his voice as he talked next, "You say it like you don't enjoy it."

"Logan, I can't. You'll just have to find some other girl to eat with. Which I'm sure won't be hard to do."

His jaw clenched. She didn't realize he just wanted to eat with her. He only wanted to do things with her, any thing, for that matter. He pushed these thoughts that reminded him of a lovesick teenage boy and acted like it didn't bother him.

"So I'm just supposed to sit in your kitchen by myself all night long while you slave away at the office? Shouldn't this be switched around?"

"Sexist pig!" she cried out, smiling.

He laughed, "Honey, come home," he said mockingly.

She ignored him, "How and why are you in my kitchen?"

"I myself put down that turtle by your front door, and frankly, I'm offended you don't remember."

"Well, I'm sure your ego can take this."

"Seriously, Ace," his nickname for her, something she had almost, just almost gotten used to. His voice had lost all its joking mannerisms and she frowned at the seriousness in his tone. "You can't stay there all night."

She sighed, glancing down at the file in front of her. She slid the contents inside and softly dropped the cover down, closing it. She stuck it in between her computer screen and the computer for her to see first thing tomorrow morning, whatever time she happened to come in. She smiled at the thought of where she was going after this.

He listened to her rustling over the phone and knew he had won. She was coming home. Home. They were both silent on the phone, replaying the conversation they had just had. It was like they were a real couple, arguing about petty things and getting dinner. Something had changed in the past few weeks and both had noticed. They were no longer just nighttime lovers, but more friends, on the cusp, hell, practically plunging to the center, of something more, something better.

"I'll be there soon," she said quietly, placing the phone in the receiver, knowing he was smirking at his victory.

-------

She closed the front door softly behind her, dropping her bag by the entrance to the kitchen as she made her way there. Sure enough, there he was, smirking, reading her late edition of the morning paper she had yet to read.

He looked up and she smiled softly in the doorway. "Honey, I'm home."

"The food'll be here soon," he told her.

"I thought you already had it."

"I wasn't going to get all that food just to find out that you wouldn't come home and then go out with a girl who eats a stick of celery for dinner."

She rolled her eyes as she stepped into the kitchen. He took in her work appearance; a black pencil skirt, a similar style he knew she had in probably fifteen million other colors but they all looked amazing on her, and a white long sleeve Oxford blouse unbuttoned modestly to her lower chest with a small diamond pendent dangling from a silver chain around her neck. Her heels were already off and her purse dropped with her work bag.

"Rough day?" he asked, reveling in the simple, but incredibly sexy business look she had.

She laughed, sitting next to him at the small kitchen table, "You have no idea."

"I'm sure mine was worse."

It was true. Being the heir to the Huntzerger Media throne was no easy task. He was constant flitting from one newspaper to another, checking up and doing evaluations of the work, although he usually stayed in New York. He occasionally wrote the article when it was requested or asked, or if he just felt in the mood, but overall, this wasn't what he wanted to do. Sure, he loved writing, he just wanted to be able to do it his own way.

She smirked, "Let's hear it."

"Three reporters ended up investigating a false story, and printed them all off and distributed them only to have the family call, pissed off, wanting to talk to me about the integrity of my workers. Then a call from dear ol' dad which made the hellish morning complete. A three hour staff meeting and then waiting at your house for an hour to realize that you might not be home for a while, and then arguing with you, a must have for the sake of every day routine."

"Hm, I think we may be tied. Let's see, I overslept and was late, which had my morning consist of Paris ranting about how I don't take this seriously. Not very fun. Then someone came and specifically asked me to do the publicity of their restaurant so that will mean I'll have to go out of the office every day until this is done. Then I got behind on the paperwork for three other clients, and then you called, thus pissing me off more and making me more behind, and now I'll have to go in early tomorrow before I even go to Realidades. Why is it Spanish anyways?"

Logan smirked. He knew he was getting himself way over his head with this. His best friend, Finn Morgan was opening that restaurant, and Logan had convinced him to hire G & G to do the PR, and more specifically, Rory to do the work. He was hoping since he was going to be part ownership of the restaurant with Finn – Finn's idea, not his – he could maybe see her more than just those nights during the week.

She looked up when the doorbell rang and grabbed money from her purse before Logan could even move.

"Hey, this is supposed to be my gift to you," he called as she made her way to the door.

"Well, you do know the way to a Gilmore's heart," she yelled back. She came back carrying the bags of Chinese food.

As she sat down she looked down at the cartons of food.

"I think we should talk."