AN: This chapter was a pain to write... But I hope it's not a pain to read. Enjoy!

Chapter Sixteen

2014

If visiting Stars Hollow always gave Rory a strange feeling of deja vu, visiting her grandparents' home for Friday Night Dinner always felt as if she had somehow taken an actual trip through time and space.

Where Stars Hollow bore the marks of a town ever changing over time, the GIlmore house was practically frozen in place. The same art hung on the same cream paneled walls. The same classical music filled the air. The same antique furniture filled every corner of the living space. The only thing that ever changed were the bouquets of fresh flowers that decorated the same vases scattered throughout the halls, and - of course - the face of the maid who answered the door. Though that was also part of what made the house so consistent - the very specific inconsistencies.

There was a certain comfort to it - seeing her grandparents, knowing exactly how her evening would go….

The conversation was always the same. There would be a few passive aggressive slings between her mother and her grandmother - something about the way her mother was dressed or some comment made about some random lifechoice that Emily didn't agree with. They would have drinks in the living room and her grandfather would talk to her about the most recent book he was reading. Dinner would be served precisely at seven and her grandmother would fill them in on the most recent drama plaguing the Hartford chapter of The Daughters of the American Revolution.

At least.. that was usually how the night would go.

There were exceptions of course.

Things never went quite so smoothly when her mother and her grandmother were actually at odds with each other. There was the disastrous time her father had barged in in the middle of the evening after he'd discovered that Sherry was pregnant with Gigi. There was the night she and her mother had shown up and they were both gone and they'd ended up eating pizza on the living room floor. There were the nights during her grandparents' separation. The night she'd shown up to her grandmother painting moonscapes.

And then there was tonight…

"So, Rory, what do you do? I've gathered that you're a fellow Yale graduate, but I'd love to know more…"

Rory was busy chewing on a piece of her chicken cordon bleu when the question was asked. She tried to pick up her speed and swallow as quickly as she could, but in the end her grandmother was too enthusiastic to keep herself from jumping in for her.

"Rory is a journalist!" said Emily. "She just finished a piece for The Daily Beat."

"The Daily Beast , Grandma…" Rory corrected before taking a sip of her wine to help wash down her hastily chewed chicken.

"I read The Daily Beast," the young - admittedly handsome - man across from her announced. "I'll have to keep an eye out for it."

"It's on the upcoming Scottish Independence Referendum," she provided with a polite smile and a nod.

"She actually just got home from a trip to London."

"I was interviewing a few members of Parliament.." she explained, conveniently leaving out the real impetus for her trip. In reality, she'd spent less than five percent of her time in the UK interviewing people, and all the interviews she'd held could have probably been done over the phone.

"Do you travel a lot for your work?"

"A bit," Rory replied with another nod. "I just go where the stories take me."

"Rory has always wanted to be a foreign correspondent," Richard added from his seat at the head of the table. "She wants to go to Fez."

She gave him a polite smile as well, choosing not to voice her thoughts out loud about the differences between what she was doing and the life of an actual foreign correspondent. Foreign correspondents had stable employment with whichever publication or network hired them full time. They usually had stable living conditions in the cities from which they reported - enough to set up some kind of life for themselves and their families.

Rory had no stability in her life. She would barely be able to afford a small vacation to Fez at the moment, let alone a prolonged stay. She hopped from place to place on a wing and a prayer, hoping that she might find some publication - any publication - to take an interest in whatever she wanted to write - oftentimes only after she'd already written it. She barely made enough money to afford the apartment in Brooklyn that she barely ever saw let alone an actual home. And at this point she genuinely had to wonder if it was even possible to find stable employment in her field.

Her grandparents were proud of her - she knew that. Ultimately she knew that this entire night was a testament to the fact that they were proud of her. Nights like these always came from a place of pride and love… though it didn't make them any less awkward.

At least this time it was only one Yale alumni that they were trying to foist upon her. And they had no way of knowing that - once again - there was only one Yale man in Rory's life that she had any interest in.

"And what do you do, James?" Lorelai asked.

There was a sweetness to her tone that was far too saccharine to be genuine. Rory could tell without even looking at her that she was not so much actually interested in what James did for a living as much as she was interested in reveling in Rory's discomfort. She was absolutely delighted by the fact that the tables had been turned and Rory was now the subject of Emily's unwanted matchmaking attentions.

Rory would probably be hearing about this for weeks to come…

"I'm an Industrial Production Manager for a company that manufactures nitrogen pressure accumulators for tractors and other large farming equipment and machinery."

For a few uncomfortable seconds the only sound heard in the dining room was the ambient music playing in the background. Even the sound of silverware clanking and the gentle chewing of food stopped as everyone tried to wrap their heads around what exactly that meant.

"You know that sounds just fascinating… ." Lorelai continued. Emily glared at her from the foot of the table, and Rory actually found herself coming down on her grandmother's side.

She didn't enjoy being set up by her grandparents, but she also didn't see any reason to be rude. Not every job was as exciting or as easily understandable as a doctor or a lawyer or a five star chef. Most jobs were boring. And the world needed tractors…

She was about to jump in and try to divert the conversation away from her mother's condescension, but to her surprise she found that she didn't have to. James merely laughed in response… and Rory found herself strangely drawn to amused twinkle in his eyes.

"I know. It's quite boring…." he said with a confident sort of self-deprecation. "But it's a good company. And I've managed to get myself secured on a pretty fast management track."

"He'll be running the place in no time!" said Richard.

"Well, I'm not sure I'd say that, Richard. But that's kind of you."

"Nonsense!" Richard replied. "If you're anything like your father, young man, it won't be long until you're all the way at the top!"

Rory took a deep breath as her grandfather's words settled in her ears.

Suddenly she had an intense feeling of deja vu. And it was far more specific than the general feeling she always got when she returned to this house for Friday Night Dinner. She couldn't help but remember a time when her grandfather had uttered almost those same exact words to Logan. He'd been right of course… and he was probably right about James as well.

In all honesty, she couldn't help but wonder if her grandparents were right about James in more than one way.

He was good looking. His light brown hair was well coiffed. He was well dressed in a nicely tailored suit that balanced the line between stylish and classic perfectly. He had a strong jaw and a pair of endearing dimples on his cheeks. He seemed smart. He seemed well read and well mannered. Most importantly he seemed like a genuinely nice person - something that wasn't that easy to find in her grandparents' circles.

All in all if Rory had bumped into him on her own she might have even enjoyed the prospect of spending an evening with him.

As it was, however, there were a couple of details standing in the way of Rory being amenable to the situation she currently found herself in. Firstly, there was the part of her that fundamentally hated the idea of dating any man that she met through her grandparents. That sentiment had probably been instilled in her by her mother, but nevertheless it was how she felt. And then, secondly, there was the fact that she seemed to have left her mind back in London with an entirely different man.

"Those earrings are lovely, Rory," Emily suddenly chimed, causing Rory to jump slightly at the unexpected attention.

It was then that she realized that in her reflection she had been absentmindedly fidgeting with the pair of light sapphire drop earrings that were dangling alongside her neck.

"Are they new?" her grandmother continued. "I don't think I've seen you wear those before."

"Oh um…"

They weren't new, but she couldn't blame her grandmother for thinking so. She'd worn them so little and they'd been buried in the back of her closet for so long that they might as well have been new. And she had just now managed to bring herself to wear them for the first time in years.

"No…" Rory said. "No. They're not new. These were actually a gift from Logan."

He'd given them to her when she'd become the editor of The Yale Daily News. As if giving her a place to live and half of his closet after Paris had kicked her out wasn't enough.

She wasn't sure what possessed her to tell the truth at that moment. Maybe it was because her mind had been so full of thoughts of him for so long now that she simply had to get some of them out in whatever limited way that she could. Maybe it was that she was testing the waters to see how her family would react to the mention of him. After all, it had been seven years since his name had been spoken in that house. And every minute of those years was keenly felt in the silence that followed her response.

"Well…" James said with a clearing of his throat as he attempted to get the conversation back on track amidst the awkwardness that had settled over them. "Logan must have excellent taste. Because they are quite beautiful on you."

Rory met his eyes across the table and smiled at him.

"Thank you, James," she said.

The rest of the evening passed rather smoothly. They all finished their chicken and her grandparents continued to fill her in on all the things they thought she would like about James. But ultimately, it wasn't his Yale degree or his MBA or the fact that it was his recent series of rapid promotions that had brought him back to the Hartford/New Haven area that did it.

In the end… she simply couldn't deny that she found herself enjoying his company.

"Listen…" he said as the two of them stood by her car in the driveway at the end of the night. "I know that you probably weren't expecting to be set up by your grandparents tonight…"

"Um. No. Not really," said Rory with a laugh. "It's a little embarrassing to be honest."

"Full disclosure…I wasn't really expecting this either when I accepted their dinner invitation."

"Ah yes…" Rory replied with a nod. "There are usually strings when it comes to unexpected invitations from Richard and Emily Gilmore."

James laughed.

"I'll remember that in the future," he said. "I just… I can't say I'm too upset by the turn of events."

Rory smiled. Her heart started to race a little bit. Though, it had more to do with a sudden burst of anxiety than it did with any kind of flattery or anticipation for what he was clearly about to ask her.

She had a feeling this was coming when he'd hung back and insisted on walking her to her car. She'd been around the block a few times, after all. And even if she hadn't seen this coming on her own, the excited look on her grandmother's face as she practically pushed them out the door would have clued her in right away.

"I don't really know too many people around here these days…" James continued. "Most of my old friends are scattered around the country, and I haven't spent much time here since college…" he said.

"Oh, I get that…" Rory replied with a knowing nod.

"I'd love to get dinner with you sometime," he said. "It's been too long since I've spent an evening with someone my own age…"

Rory chuckled.

"Not that your grandparents aren't lovely people!"

"It's okay," Rory assured after he jumped in with that hastily given clarification. "I know what you mean."

She took a deep breath. And, unknowingly, her hand flew up once again to the sapphires dangling from her ears.

Logan's sapphires….

Her gut reaction was to say no to him - to explain that there was another man in her life that she couldn't stop thinking about, that she might still be in love with.

But she didn't.

Because with her thoughts about her undeniable feelings for Logan came the reminder that he wasn't exactly declining these kinds of invitations out of some unspoken devotion to her. He was out living his life - attending world class sporting events with French pianists and entertaining God knows how many other women.

If he was anything like he was when they were in college, there could be a different girl every night for all she knew.

Was she really going to decline a nice meal with a successful handsome man out of loyalty to a man who was not her boyfriend and who lived an ocean away?

"Dinner would be nice," she said with a smile.

They took out their phones and exchanged numbers.

She didn't really expect anything to come from this. After all, he was in Connecticut and she technically still lived in Brooklyn. In the end, it would probably be nothing more than a couple of nice dates. Maybe some sex. Still, she would allow herself to have some fun… even if it would break her grandmother's heart when it inevitably petered out.

"Those earrings really are lovely," James said, softly.

He reached his hand up toward her face, and Rory flinched for a moment, worried that he might attempt to kiss her. But he didn't. His fingers didn't even brush her skin as he touched the stones.

"They bring out your eyes."

2036

Riley could practically hear the voice of her Great-Grandma Emily scolding her for fidgeting as she raised her fingers to the new piece of jewelry around her neck for what felt like the twentieth time in the last ten minutes.

She'd always been a nervous fidgeter. It was one of the reasons why she didn't often wear jewelry. Over the course of her life, she'd lost too many rings to count from absentmindedly sliding them on and off her fingers. She'd broken dozens of necklace chains by tugging on them too hard. She'd worn out bracelet clasps by opening and closing them over and over and over again. She regularly had to make trips to Michaels to purchase little baggies full of earring backs because it seemed like they were always going missing - falling on the ground wherever she went and being left behind without a thought.

But not wearing this necklace was simply not an option.

It was the first gift her father had ever given her. Or… the first official gift her father had given her. Logan had given her plenty since she'd arrived on his doorstep. But this was the first thing he'd given her that had come wrapped in a small light blue gift bag with white tissue paper.

"I figure I have nineteen years of birthdays and Christmases to make up for," he'd said when she'd asked him what the occasion was.

She'd been nervous when she pulled the blue box bearing the Tiffany logo out of the bag. She knew whatever was inside of it must have cost a lot of money, and considering that she didn't wear a lot of jewelry normally, she was anxious that she wouldn't like whatever she would find inside. But when she lifted the lid and saw two small heart shaped gold tags strung through a simple gold chain she smiled.

"I didn't think you'd like something too flashy," Logan said as he clasped the necklace around her neck. "Besides… I'll let some other guy be the first to buy you diamonds."

She hadn't taken the necklace off since. And, thankfully, the gold complimented the calf length daisy print tie-strapped sundress she and Alex had finally found on a rack in Harrod's perfectly. But, unfortunately, neither her appreciation for the piece of jewelry nor the fact that it was probably more expensive than her mother's mortgage payment wasn't enough to put a halt to her old habits.

"Stop it," Alex growled under his breath as he leaned over to whisper in her ear.

Riley grimaced at him in return, though his words had the desired effect. She dropped her arms to her sides immediately - more in anger than in obedience. But nevertheless, she dropped them.

"I'm nervous…" she said back, as if that was all the excuse she needed to be a fidgety and jittery mess.

"Yes, and everyone within twenty feet of you can tell," Alex replied. "Just… be casual."

"Nothing about this place is casual," Riley grumbled as she turned her head to take in the scenery around them.

Honestly, that was an understatement. In all of her many years as a participant and fan of sports, she had never been to any event quite like the one she was attending now. It felt more like some kind of fancy garden party than a sporting event. Like a wedding. Or one of the many stuffy afternoon events she'd waited tables for at her grandmother's inn over the years.

All the people around her were dressed to the nines - the men in jackets and ties and the women in long dresses and hats. The champagne was flowing freely. A little too freely if Riley was being honest. She might have relied a little too strongly on the bubbly substance to help her get over her nerves ever since they had arrived - enough that she'd started the afternoon having a mild aversion to the beverage and somehow in the span of a couple hours she had grown to develop something of a taste for it. She only stopped when her father had subtly moved a glass away from her in response to a series of hiccups that kept rising from her diaphragm in tiny little squeaks.

"Everyone is staring at me," she continued, shifting her eyes to see the turned heads and curious glances aimed in her direction from all around her.

"Of course they are," Alex replied with a frustrating air of nonchalance. As if it was something she shouldn't even bother worrying about. "You're the scandal of the week."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Riley asked.

"Look…" Alex replied, rolling his eyes. He leaned into her conspiratorially and gently lifted the hand that was holding his drink so that he could point at the people around them without being too obvious. "You see that man over there? The bald one? Red tie?"

Riley turned her head slightly in the direction Alex was pointing, taking note of the stout older gentleman with a shiny scalp that was growing pink in the sun. He was surrounded by a handful of other men, talking shop by the looks of it. A large grin was plastered across his face as everyone around him laughed at something that he'd said.

"Yes…" she replied.

"That's Lester Crawley. Five months ago his wife found out that he'd 'gifted' his twenty-nine year old secretary a pair of rather large new breasts, a full facelift, and quite a bit of lip filler. Out of the goodness of his heart of course…. No other motives," said Alex before pointing to another group of people sitting in a row of green lawn chairs near the river. "That woman in the polka dot dress?"

Riley nodded as her eyes landed on a middle-aged blonde woman who was happily nursing a bloody mary amid a group of about five gossiping women.

"That's Claire Donahugh. She's new money…" Alex whispered. "Which isn't necessarily a bad thing in this crowd. Except that for a long time she tried to build herself up by claiming to be a distant cousin of the Romanovs. She always wore this ruby necklace that she swore was gifted to her great-great grandmother by Alexandra Feodorovna herself. Before she was murdered of course."

"Of course…" Riley echoed with a furrowed brow.

"Well… last year during the height of her very nasty divorce, her ex-husband exposed her by leaking the results of her 23 and Me test. Not a Saxe-Coburg in sight, I'm afraid."

Riley chuckled.

"And that…"

Alex's voice dropped into something of a growl as he pointed to a group of boys just a few yards away from them. They were about his age, all well dressed and good looking - especially the one that Alex was singling out with an icy glare. A look that seemed a bit more personal this time around.

" That is Graham Fitzroy…" he grumbled. "His family has been sending their boys to Eton for generations, but he couldn't get in. So his father paid off the bursar to get him off the waiting list. Imagine how stupid you have to be to make them completely disregard that long of a legacy… "

"What's your point?" Riley asked.

If Alex was trying to make her feel better about being the subject of a scandal, gossiping about all the other people around her wasn't exactly working. All it did was remind her about the way people would no doubt talk about her for the rest of her life.

"Look at them…" said Alex, gesturing again to the three individuals all standing among groups of friends and laughing. "No one cares anymore. Everyone gawks at you for a couple of weeks and then the next new shiny scandal comes along and they all go on as if nothing ever happened. LIfe just goes back to normal. For these people being the subject of a scandal every now and then is just a perverse kind of civic responsibility. Like jury duty. Or paying taxes. It keeps them entertained. They'll all forget about you by next week when something more interesting comes along. My money is on Melanie Smyth's baby not being her husband's."

Alex pointed one last time at a young woman off to their left with a visible bump underneath her dress. She watched for a moment as an older man walked up behind her and placed his hand in the small of her back. The woman, however, had her eyes locked on a different man altogether.

It was a strange world - a world that was somehow even stranger than the high brow circles back home in Connecticut. At least in Connecticut she could have worn a t-shirt to a sporting event and no one would have batted an eye.

"Alex?!"

When the unfamiliar new voice cut over the crowd, Riley watched for the first time that afternoon - or perhaps even for the first time since she'd arrived in the UK - as Alex's entire body went stiff in a sudden burst of anxiety. His back straightened. His shoulders shot up toward his ears. And the expression on his face fell for a brief few milliseconds before he fixed his regular look of indifference back onto his features.

Her head snapped immediately in the direction of the voice that had such an instant effect on him, curious about who exactly it was that had managed to invoke some kind of emotion in her normally unflappable brother. And to her surprise… it happened to be the very same boy that he'd pointed out to her just a few seconds ago.

"Graham…" Alex practically sneered as the young man left his group of friends to approach them.

He had something of a smirk on his face. It was an expression that someone a bit more naive than Riley might actually take for a friendly smile. But even though Riley didn't live on these kinds of blocks, she'd been around them often enough to know that his approach was anything but friendly.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Graham said with a smile. "Considering…"

"My dead mother?" Alex asked - bluntly - managing to suddenly instill the same amount of clear discomfort in the boy as he had just displayed a few seconds ago.

"Uh…well… yes…. I suppose…"

Alex said nothing in response. He merely stared at the boy, unblinking, forcing him to clear his throat in a display of awkward discomfort and turn his attention to Riley instead. It didn't take long for his momentary awkwardness to fade away. As his eyes raked over her, he seemed to regain the same pompous air that he had first approached them with, and it was obvious that he wanted to make a show of taking her in. As if he was trying to intimidate her. But, unfortunately for him, Riley wasn't in the habit of being intimidated by random high school boys at boat races.

"Is this your… date?" Graham asked, the amused smile on his face growing. "Now that's a surprise…"

"I'm his sister," Riley quickly interjected.

"Sister?" he asked. His brow furrowed for a moment in a showy display of intrigue. "I didn't know you had a sister."

"Half sister," she explained. "I live in America. We don't see each other often."

"I'll say," Graham replied with a short laugh. "Because… Alex and I know each other… pretty well I'd say…" Alex stiffened all over again. "And I've never heard a word about you. Come to think of it… I've never even seen a picture of you in his house."

"That's funny… I haven't heard a word about you either," Riley shot back.

Obviously, her response was a bit disingenuous. After all, there was no denying that this boy - whoever he was - obviously knew Alex better than she did. She'd only known him for a handful of weeks, and they'd only just started actually talking to each other a few days ago. But he had no way of knowing that. And for some reason, Riley was feeling a distinctive urge to bare her teeth at this guy.

"Maybe you don't know each other as well as you thought you did," she continued.

"I guess not."

Riley and Graham stood there for a while staring at each other. The smirk on his face grew, but Riley continued to hold unwavering eye contact, breaking it only to look him up and down in the same haughty manner he'd shown to her.

He was cute. There was no denying that. But, unfortunately, his thick blonde hair and chiseled jaw weren't enough to make up for the general ick exuding from his aura.

"I have to go to the loo…" Alex suddenly grumbled. He abruptly left them standing there, alone. Riley was almost annoyed with him, but thankfully Graham wasn't all that interested in continuing their interaction much longer either.

"Well I suppose I should get back to my friends," he said.

"So soon?" Riley asked, her head tilting to the side in a disingenuous show of remorse.

Graham turned on his heel and walked away, and her relief at seeing the back of him quickly faded when she realized that she was now standing alone in the middle of the green lawn along the banks of the river with no idea what to do and no one to talk to.

She stood there for a while, pretending to take an interest in what was going on in the water. Though, truth be told it wasn't all that thrilling. The races were slow. They were quiet. And most of them were won by several boat lengths and by the time they had made it to where she was in the Steward's Enclosure it was abundantly obvious who the victor was going to be.

Glancing around, her eyes eventually landed on the sight of her father talking to a couple about his age - a thin blonde woman and a fit man with salt and pepper hair. She found herself gravitating toward them like a magnet - unsure of where else to go. It bruised her ego a little bit, having not wanted to be her father's shadow throughout the whole afternoon. But when Logan placed his hand on her back as she sidled up next to him, she felt comforted about her presence there.

"Hi there, sweetheart…" Logan greeted with a smile. "Are you having fun?"

Riley wasn't having much fun. She hadn't been since he'd not so subtly implied that she needed to curb her alcohol intake… but she didn't feel like it would be a good idea to say that to her father's face. Especially while he was talking to people that she'd never met before. First impressions and all that…

"Uh. Yeah. Sure," she said with a nod. Though, judging by the look on Logan's face he didn't seem to believe her. He didn't press the issue though. Instead he just moved on, gently pushing her forward toward his friends with a slight nudge.

"Bobbie, I want you to meet - "

"Oh my goodness. You must be Riley!" the woman interrupted. She stuck her hand out, grabbing Riley's so quickly that she'd hardly had time to respond with any sort of acceptable handshake. "Your father has told me so much about you. Truly. Absolutely gabbed my ear off!"

For the second time that afternoon, Riley found herself wanting to shoot back with a comment about how she'd never heard a word about the person she was being introduced to. Though, this time she managed to keep that urge to herself. Bobbie was at least being friendly. Though, it was admittedly strange to be the constant topic of conversation in an endless group of people that were complete strangers to her.

Logan flashed her a small but encouraging smile - one that seemed to communicate a kind of silent apology to her.

"Riley, this is my business partner and old friend Bobbie Bancroft and her husband Jason."

"It's nice to meet you, Riley," Jason said with a kind smile as he also reached out to shake her hand. This time she was much better prepared to accept.

"Hi," she replied.

"My God, you're every bit as gorgeous as he said you were," Bobbie continued. Riley was about to chime in with a 'thank you,' but the woman's enthusiasm was simply too much for her to keep up with. "Those eyes! You definitely have your mother's eyes. Lucky girl."

"Um…"

Riley blinked.

She did have her mother's eyes.

Almost everyone who knew her knew that she had her mother's eyes. The striking bright cerulean blue eyes that she shared with both her mother and her grandmother. A Gilmore Girl staple. She'd heard it her entire life - how lucky she was that she got her mother's beautiful blue eyes.

But how this woman whose name she'd never heard before in her life knew that she had her mother's eyes was an odd question that she didn't want to spend too much time thinking about.

"Thanks," Riley said, simply.

"And you're at Yale?" Bobbie asked.

"Um. Yep. I'm at Yale," said Riley.

"And your major?"

"Um…" Riley said, silently cursing herself for not being able to start a single sentence without it for some reason. "Economics and Mathematics."

Bobbie's eyes went wide and she glanced over at Logan with something of a twinkle in them.

"You don't say…" the woman said.

"Bobbie is our CFO," said Logan, as if it was some kind of explanation for her interest in Riley's area of study.

"And what are your plans for after college?"

Riley stiffened.

She hated this question.

She'd just finished her freshman year, and everyone she talked to expected her to have all the answers regarding what her future was going to hold in the next five years. She'd spent almost her entire life up until this point trying to decide what she was going to do in college, and the moment she had made that decision people wanted more answers from her.

Answers that she didn't really have…

"Um…"

She winced. Another um…

"Business administration. I guess…" she said. "Maybe I'll get my MBA?"

"Or maybe you won't need to…" said Bobbie with a twitched eyebrow.

The little twinkle in her eye was still there as she looked back over at Logan. Riley looked at him as well, and she saw his shoulders tense up in a way uncannily similar to how Alex's had upon seeing Graham. She could tell that the two of them were having some kind of silent conversation about her, and she wasn't entirely sure how comfortable she was with that fact.

"Honey, why don't you go grab me another drink…" Logan said, holding up the near empty glass in his hand. "Gin and tonic."

In any other circumstance, Riley might feel anxious about the fact that her father was clearly trying to get rid of her - probably to turn the silent conversation he was having with his friend into a not-so-silent one. But considering she wasn't exactly enjoying being interrogated by the woman, she was actually grateful for the out. - even if it meant that she would yet again step into the role of a pinball being bounced around from corner to corner of the lawn with no clear destination in sight.

Still… as she stepped away she felt relief at no longer being placed under a microscope by her father's friends. That relief, however, was pretty short lived when almost as soon as she'd managed to get out of ear shot of them she managed to walk right into another person who was a little too interested in her presence for her taste.

"Oof. Sorry," Riley said as her shoulder accidentally brushed up against an unwitting member of the crowd. The young man who she'd run into turned slowly, and just when Riley expected to get scoffed at for being a clumsy oaf who couldn't watch where she was going, she got treated to an appreciative look that made her skin crawl instead.

The young man looked her up and down, and a sleazy grin spread across his face. It was no doubt meant to be flattering, but as she stood there being ogled at like a piece of meat she suddenly found herself missing the company of Graham. At least his leering look was meant to be an insult. This one was actually meant to be a compliment. And somehow that made it so much worse.

"Oh, please don't apologize," the young man said, biting his bottom lip. Riley had to struggle to keep her face from curling into a grimace.

"Ehm… okay…" Riley mumbled. She took another step forward, hoping to keep on going about her business without being sucked into yet another conversation that she didn't want to have. But, the guy she'd bumped into didn't seem to be on the same page.

"You're that new Huntzberger girl that everyone is talking about…" he said with the strangely creepy grin still plastered on his face. Riley suddenly felt even more skeezed out than she had been before. She was used to men finding her attractive… but with that look she wasn't sure if this guy was actually attracted to her or just her name…

Not that it was even her name to begin with.

"Gilmore," she corrected.

"It's nice to see a new face around here…" he continued. "It's usually always the same old incestuous bunch. It's about time we had some fresh meat."

It was then that Riley lost the battle against the grimace. She felt her face curl in disgust, and the truly shocking thing was that he didn't even seem to notice her obvious displeasure.

"Who are you? Armie Hammer?" she asked.

"Oliver Wells…" the man replied, quickly. As if he truly thought she was simply asking his name and not tossing an obvious dig in his direction.

"Well… Oliver Wells… " she said. "I really have to go - "

"Is this your first time at a regatta?" he asked, oblivious to her attempts to get away. Riley could only sigh and try not to roll her eyes. "I would think someone like you might feel a little out of place at an event like this…"

"Someone like me?" Riley asked with a raised eyebrow. But her new friend didn't even seem to notice that she'd spoken.

"I'd imagine you're not very familiar with the sport."

"You know, it has been confusing…" Riley replied. "But from what I've managed to pick up, it's like… whichever boat is faster wins?"

"Leander is the favorite this year," Oliver continued. "Though I have my money on The University of London…"

Riley stood there practically dissociating as the young man in front of her continued to prattle on about the top standing crew teams from all around Great Britain, completely oblivious to her utter boredom and her unbridled desire to get away from him.

She opened her mouth several times, trying to find a way to insert a swift and obvious goodbye. But every time Oliver took the slightest pause for air and she managed to find a point where she might be able to jump in and get a word in edgewise, he swiftly cut her off and continued to drone on.

Eventually, she found herself fantasizing about just slowly drifting away off into the distance - like that meme of Homer Simpson disappearing into a hedge. And she was so lost in the thought, that she didn't manage to see a third person walking in their direction - intent on joining their conversation.

"Hey, babe!"

Riley almost jumped as the loud and enthusiastic voice sounded from her left. She turned her head to see where it had come from just in time to see a familiar head of brown hair attached to a pair of broad muscular shoulders coming closer to her.

The shoulders in question were wrapped in a navy blue blazer lined with white trim over the lapels, cuffs, and pockets. A capital 'Y' crossed with two ores in the shape of an 'X' was stitched over the jacket's breast pocket, and a pair of silver buttons were keeping the jacket closed over a white oxford shirt and striped navy tie. The jacket was paired with a set of white trousers and white shoes. Frankly, the whole get up was a little ridiculous, but that was the least of her concerns at the moment.

The unexpected sight of the boy's face alone was enough to shock her into speechlessness, but in the end it didn't matter. He continued talking for both of them as he slipped his hand behind her back, pulled her into his side, and pressed a kiss on her temple.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here," he said. "I got caught up by the BBC."

"Um…" Riley said, shaking her head slightly as she tried to put a thought together. But, unfortunately, she was still coming up short. "Sure. Yeah. No problem."

"Jaxton Hearst," the boy continued, holding his hand out to shake Liam's. Though, Oliver didn't seem to be that keen on accepting it. He stared at the proffered hand for a second, though eventually he reached out to take it.

"Oliver Wells," he replied with annoyance dripping from his tone.

"Oliver," Jaxton echoed. "Good to meet you. Thanks for keeping Riley here company. I was worried she'd get bored here all by herself. Another hour and she probably would have broken up with me. Right, sweetheart?"

"Yep," Riley answered with a nod and a dramatic popping of the 'P' at the end of the word. She'd gathered enough of her wits to ultimately catch up to the game that Jaxton was playing, and she made her move by leaning further into him and placing her hand over his chest. "That's right… honey."

"Anyway," said Jaxton, looking down at his watch for a moment. "I think we're going to grab something to eat. Racing really works up an appetite, you know?"

"I'm sure it does," Oliver replied, reluctantly.

"You hungry?" Jaxton asked, looking down at her with his green eyes and a wide smile.

"Starving," Riley replied. "It was nice to meet you, Oliver."

Jaxton pulled her away and they walked toward the dining hall with his arm still wrapped around her waist. It wasn't until they'd gone far enough to get a comfortable distance away from him that Riley finally let out a massive sigh and pulled away from him.

"Oh my God. Thank you!" she exclaimed.

"You're welcome," said Jaxton with a wide smile as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I could see the look of panic on your face from yards away. I would have come over sooner, but I wasn't sure it was actually you at first..."

"I thought I was going to be trapped there talking about racing odds for the rest of my life," she said. But once she'd fully communicated her relief at being rescued, her mind returned to her initial thoughts about seeing him. "What are you even doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" he asked, looking slightly confused before his lips curled into a smile.. "I'm racing. What are you doing here?"

Riley's eyes flicked back down to the big white 'Y' stitched on his blazer. She knew that he was on the crew team. After all, that was the first thing her roommate had whispered to her when she'd introduced them at a dorm party months ago - whispered as if it was an achievement on par with ending world hunger or solving global warming. Riley hadn't really realized why it was such a big deal until she'd seen him with his shirt off for the first time…

After that she understood.

"I…" Riley started, pausing for a moment to consider whether or not she wanted to tell this boy everything about the circumstances that had led to her standing there at that very moment. "It's a long story."

Jaxton shrugged.

"It's going to be a long afternoon."

"I um…" Riley swallowed. "I'm kind of… just… I'm visiting my dad?"

"Oh," said Jaxton as the two of them walked toward a tent housing a bar and an array of foods that were available for snacking all throughout the afternoon. "That sounds like a pretty short story, actually."

Riley laughed.

"Uh… yeah…" she agreed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She supposed when framed like that without any backstory it was a pretty simple explanation. It was how Logan and Alex had been passing off her presence all afternoon. But it seemed strange coming from her own lips. "We're just… estranged? I guess. It's my first time being here… With him. It's complicated."

"Ah," Jaxton replied with a nod, not pushing her any further than she wanted to go with probing questions. It was a nice change of pace compared with all the other people she'd been introduced to that afternoon. "So I guess that explains why I haven't heard anything from you all summer?"

Riley's heart started to flutter a bit in her chest.

Had he expected to hear from her?

She wasn't exactly sure what the context of their relationship was outside of dorm parties and bar gatherings. They weren't really friends. They didn't hang out together alone. They didn't even text much outside of sending each other memes and TikToks. The last time she'd said goodbye to him - leaving his dorm room at two in the morning the Saturday before her last final - she'd thought that it was a kind of 'see you next semester' situation.

She hadn't realized he wanted her to keep in touch.

"Uh… yeah. I guess," she said. "It's been kind of crazy…"

"I get it," said Jaxton with a nod. Though, Riley seriously doubted that he did. "I visit my dad in San Diego every Thanksgiving and August… It's always awkward as fuck. We never know what to say to each other or how to deal with each other. But hey… I guess that's just the curse of the children of divorce…"

"My parents were never married…" said Riley with a shrug.

But even though that statement was technically true, it didn't keep the little pang in her heart away. And as much as she wanted to tell herself that the only reason she felt it was because not knowing her biological father growing up was painful in its own unique way - deep down she knew that the real reason was because she was a child of divorce.

She'd managed to escape it for so long… thinking about it.

And she didn't want to be reminded.

Suddenly, it felt as if her phone was burning a hole into the pocket of her sundress, reminding her that it had been weeks since she'd spoken to her step-father. His last text - the one where he'd told her that he understood that she was angry and that he loved her but would respect her space - was left on read. He'd put the ball in her court, and she'd chosen to fly to London and see the biological father she'd never met rather than pick up the phone and speak to him.

Perhaps it was a shallow attempt to try and replace him. Or maybe it was a desperate need for her to find someone who couldn't just wake up one day and decide he didn't want to be her father anymore. Logan would always be her father whether he liked it or not. There was no escaping their shared chromosomes.

Thankfully, though, he seemed to like it.

"Doesn't really matter though, does it?" Jaxton replied. "It's still the same."

"I guess not," said Riley. "It's been nice though. Getting to know him."

"Well I'm happy for you," Jaxton replied with a warm smile, one that Riley returned.

"Thanks," she said.

An awkward moment settled between them. Riley had suffered through more than her fair share of awkward moments in the last few weeks, but this one was entirely different from the tense pauses between her father and her brother when they had first been getting used to each other's presence. This one didn't send a rush of negative thoughts through her brain. Instead, this one sent a rush of blood to the tops of her cheeks.

"Were you getting another drink?" Jaxton asked, pointing to the empty glass that was still in her hand.

"Oh!" said Riley, looking down at the glass and suddenly remembering the entire reason she had been walking in this direction to begin with. "Yeah. Well… for my dad."

"Shall we?"

Jaxton held out his arm, offering it to her. Riley looked at it for a second, her heart thumping ever so slightly before she accepted the gesture. She laced her own arm through his and leaned her weight into his side, allowing him to escort her to the bar and reveling in the feeling of having a piece of her own world finally creeping into the one that she had been living in for the last few weeks.

A smile spread across her face as they walked together and he filled her in on how his summer had been going. And it was only when her eyes drifted back over to her father and she saw him looking over at the two of them with a scrutinizing furrow of his brow that it fell again.

The day had definitely taken an interesting turn…

TBC…

AN: Don't forget to review!