Disclaimer: I own nothing, seriously.
A/N: I know most of you probably hate me for not updating more often as you like. I hate to say it but I've caught writer's block and I'm slowly recovering. But do have hope that I will finish this story sometime this year. Here's the new chapter! Thanks to all who haven't given up on reading this story. Enjoy and remember to review!
Chapter 9- The rest is still…unwritten
Rory stepped out of the cab in Times Square. The vibe of it all was exciting and adrenaline pumping. The streets were legendary, known for its crowded state, and surely crowded was an understatement. Men and women were dressed in suits, walking towards their respective buildings. On some women, their feet were adorned with New Balance running sneakers. She silently makes a bet with herself that their stiletto heels were probably traveling along in their oversized tote bags. And she was probably right.
Seeing a building with its name on a plaque hung on the stone walls, she went through the revolving doors and pressed the up button. Selecting her desired floor, she waited for the lifts to close its doors and move up.
When the doors opened, the sight was amazing. Men and women were intensely pacing back and forth from offices, carrying folders on their arms. If they weren't walking furiously, they were typing furiously. The secretary, a woman of her early thirties with her headsets on, sat right in front of the elevators in a semicircle shape. She was chewing her bubble gum and nodding her head as she typed and spoke on the phone. Her short sleek bob bobbed along. Rory waited for her to finish talking.
"Yes Mr. Landers, I'm sure we'll order your subscriptions, I'll make sure to cal- oh. Hello? Hello?" She gave a sigh and placed the phone back to its cradle. "Some people." She rubbed her forehead with her thumb and index finger. She looked up again and found a new face. "Hi, how may I help you?"
"I'm Rory Gilmore, I'm sure you called me last week about the job confirmation after the interview with Mr. Hoyt." She bit her lip, waiting was never her forte.
The woman in front of her looked as if she was trying to search her brain for the memory. When she remembered, she sat up straighter. "Yes, I remember now. You're the new writer. I'll just call for Carl and tell him that you're here."
"Oh, um okay." Rory's hands fiddle with the strap on her messenger bag.
"Hello Mr. Hoyt, Miss Gilmore, you're ten thirty appointment is here." The receptionist spoke through the headsets. "Okay, I'll send her in now."
She pressed the off button and stood up from her computer chair, "Miss Gilmore, please follow me." The woman opened the huge glass doors and they walked through what seemed like a maze to get to Carl Hoyt's office. The receptionist knocked firmly on the wooden door before opening it. She gestured her hand for Rory to walk in before closing the door shut.
There sitting in front of her was a man reading a newspaper, only she couldn't see his face because of the black and white papers covering him. The man folded the paper and faced his guest.
"Miss Gilmore, I presume?" He stood up and held out his hand.
"You presumed correctly, please call me Rory." She smiled and shook his hands firmly. He seems to be satisfied with the handshake or else he wouldn't have that approving smile on his aging face.
"You know, I have a daughter about your age, a bit older, and all my Sophie reads about these days is your news section on that newspaper you write in. She says that it's been a while since she's seen anyone report news with such feeling as your articles portrays." Carl pushes his glasses upper.
"I'm glad she likes reading it as I've enjoyed writing it." She takes a seat.
"Yes, and when she showed me that piece of article you did on Barrack Obama for the presidential campaign, I have to say that that was quite some article from a fresh face reporter like you yourself Rory. And it's quite an honor to have you here today."
"Mr. Hoyt, if it's anyone's pleasure to be here, it's mine. This is obviously a job I wanted for such a long time since I was younger." Rory's face glowed with happiness.
"Well I'm glad you think so, and I'm happy that you decided to join the staff. I'll call Sarah in once again to show you to your desk." He pressed the intercom button on the phone. "Sarah, can you come in please."
"Yes Mr. Hoyt." A voice replied back.
A few moments later, the receptionist knocked on the door before opening the door.
"Can you please address Miss Gilmore to her desk? Thank you, Sarah." Mr. Hoyt began typing.
"No problem." Sarah politely said.
Rory stood up and Carl stood up too and stuck out his hand once again. "Welcome to the staff." Rory proudly shook it.
Rory followed Sarah through the maze once again and this time stopping at a cubicle that had a grand view of 34th street. Her small hand grazed the sturdiness of her desk to the leather chair she'll be occupying for quite a while.
"If you need me, I'll be at my desk Miss Gilmore." Sarah said.
"Okay." Rory said, not really paying much attention. She was still letting the feeling sink down because she couldn't believe that this was all hers. This reminded her of the time when she was offered the internship at Mitchum Huntzberger's newspaper company.
Rory sat down at her chair and took her phone out of the messenger bag she was carrying. She scrolled down to 'A' and called Amber. The dial tone rung twice before her friend picked up the phone.
"Hey babe, what's up?" Amber asked.
"I absolutely love this place. I have my own cubicle, which hasn't happened since college. And the view is absolutely amazing; I mean I can practically see the whole New York from here." Rory gushed, even though Amber wasn't there, Rory didn't let her enthusiasm die.
"Oh stop, you're making me envy you." Amber teased through the phone.
"How are Hugo and the team doing?" Rory took a seat on those rolling chairs and spun herself around.
"They of course miss you, and so do I. Hugo even said that if you wanted to come back and work for him, the spot will always be open for you."
"Aww, that's so sweet of them. You have to come visit me sometimes here in New York. I found an apartment in the lower east sides, the rent is cheap, the building is in perfect condition, and the neighborhood is nice." Rory continually said.
"I will when I find time, probably around next month or so."
Rory heard something like typing noises on the other end. "Are you doing something now? You sound busy."
"I'm just finishing a story right now, there….finish." The crunching sounds of the keyboard came to a stop, and something was snapped shut. "Being here without you is weird."
"It's alright, I miss you too, and…" Rory started to say but then she was interrupted by someone knocking on her cubicle wall. "Hold on a sec." Sarah steps in with a folder.
"I'm sorry Miss Gilmore, but Mr. Hoyt is calling for a staff meeting." Sarah hands her a folder.
"Ok, alright." Rory then turns to her phone again. "I got to go Am, but I'll call you after work." She waits for a reply and then closes her phone. She turns toward Sarah, "To where?"
"Oh, just follow me." Sarah once again led her through a maze-like path to a room full of other writers. Carl Hoyt was sitting at the very front of the room next to a huge white marker board. The reporters have already occupied the other seats in the room. Once everyone filled up the room, Carl leans forward on both arms and stands up.
"Ok, now that everyone is here, you all know what day it is. One by one tell me what you are doing for tomorrow's issue?" Carl had uncapped his Expo marker and placed his arm up into mid air to point out to someone. Some hands were raised high. "Yes, Megan?"
"I've put the finishing touches on my food review on Langston's; it'll be ready for tomorrow's paper. And I heard that a there's another branch of that new internet company opening here in the city. I've already phoned the secretary and all I have to do is set up an initial meeting with the CEO and hopefully they'll agree to an article being published." A pregnant blond, Megan, pitched.
"Uh-huh, so when do you think you'll be able to finish the article." Carl asked, biting the cap of the marker. His left hand cupping his right elbow.
"Probably it'll take two to three days to write the article. If things go well, I'll have it submitted by next week." Megan rolled her eyes back as if she were thinking. And when she looked back at Carl, she confirmed it with a nod.
"Ok perfect." He wrote a few words of what Megan had just said. When he turned around a few more hands shot up in the air, "Yes you, Theo."
"There's this new artist that's painting murals all over the buildings of alleyways. And it's creating a whole controversy whether or not graffiti is a good or bad thing. And this hasn't been done since Marc Jacob's fashion show. I thought it'll be good for the Art section." Theo pushed his glasses up. He had a large mane of curly hair tied into a pony tail at the nape of his neck.
"Good." A few squeaks of the marker were made on the dry erase board. "Anymore?"
More suggestions were pitched around the room, some accepted, some rejected because it was highly inappropriate for such a famous newspaper, some serious, and some so ridiculous that it made her laugh.
Jenny, a girl around her age chose to do a music review. "I was thinking about writing a piece on this vegetarian Christian band that I heard not long ago. And they're pretty good. They're called Potato Squash," A few chuckles went around, rolling her eyes she continued, "…yes I know funny name. But they've got real talent."
"Ok, I think we're covered. Good job team and I would like you to meet one of our new staff, Rory Gilmore." Carl announced to the other staffs, his hand was gesturing towards her so no one had to look around the meeting room. Rounds of hellos were said. "Rory, this is the New York Times Staff."
"Hi guys, I'm Rory Gilmore." She said to her fellow coworkers. She already felt like she belongs here. It was a feeling that excited her. One she hasn't felt for so long since starting Yale and becoming the editor in chief for the Yale Daily News.
"Babe, this place looks awesome. You can see practically the entire park here. Oh my god, is that a man sun bathing naked?" Samantha's voice spoke in awe, touring through the house. Her blond hair glistening in the winter sun, her model's body clad in a thin long sleeved sweater, skinny jeans and knee high suede boots.
"Sam, it's not weird. The people here are half crazy." Logan walked through the door, carrying two painting murals into what would be his home office, and he was smiling. He was smartly dressed in a sweater himself and a pair of loose jeans. Quite an alternative from his usual attire consisting of dress shirts and pants.
"It's going to suck without you being at home in San Francisco." She walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on the lips. "Think about all those lonely nights, when I'm going to need you there to fulfill my needs." She teased.
He let out a deep groan. "Yea, but you can use those free flyer miles to come see me. Did you see the closet yet?" He nuzzled her nose with his.
She let out a giggle, "Yes, and I'm so jealous that your closest is so big."
He shrugged, "Well consider it yours then."
Her green eyes got wider and she was in pure shock. "What? No way. Oh my god Logan," She pulled him into a tighter hug. "That is so great." With a quick kiss, she pulled away, "I can't believe we've been engaged for four months already. There's only six more months until I'm going to be Mrs. Logan Huntzberger."
He chuckled. "I like that. Mrs. Logan Huntzberger." He leaned forward and captured her lips again. His hands resting on her hips, squeezing it slightly and pulling her in a bit closer towards him.
"Well you better get use to it, because that's who I'm going to be in July." She pulled away and unwrapped her arm from his neck. "Ok come on, you still have to finish your tour." She linked their arm and walked out of the room.
"Bedroom, bedroom, my room, bathroom," With each room, he opened the door to reveal an empty spacious room. Though it seems to be empty, it was already a very elegant and beautiful apartment.
"You can play baseball here." She remarked, her hands running across the tiles on the wall. Every single thing in the bathroom was white. Except for the floor, which were made of a smooth stone surface colored gray, and the silver of the sink water tabs, and the metal rod of the bathtub.
When they stepped out of the bathroom, Samantha's phone rang. Picking it up, she chatted to her friend.
"Hey girl, what's up?" She said cheerfully through the phone. She slowly paced around the big, living room. "What? Yea, of course I'm going to be there. You kidding? It not a party if I'm not there. Tell Tom I said hello. Ok, Ciao." She snapped her phone shut and looked at Logan.
"I would love to finish the tour, but Giselle is having a party, and I promised I would attend. All the other girls would be there too, Alessandra, Selita, Adrianna, and Heidi." She explained, clutching her phone to her chest.
"Oh okay, just go have fun. But next time you're partying with the angels, just bring me along." He joked with a smirk on his face.
"Hey buddy, all eyes on me only." She gave him a smile that said she knew he was just joking around with her. "I'll see you sometime around, when I not busy? That way I'll get to see the whole apartment furnished and we could do a whole lot." Her voice got huskier at the end of her sentence.
Logan licked his upper lip. "Oh definitely baby."
"Alright then," She pecked him on the cheeks. "Bye darling." He walked her towards the door, and opened it for her. She gave him another kiss and stepped out, almost tripping on the ball on the way out. "Darn kids."
He chuckled and closed the door. He leaned against it with his eyes closed and one of his legs propped up onto the wall. He stayed there for a few moments before straightening up again and started to finish unwrapping his furniture. He truly did love California but it just wasn't for him. But this place felt like home.
When Harold phoned and said that they were thinking about merging companies together, Logan jumped at a chance to start a new one here, so with a quick agreement and a fast flight, here he was now. This apartment here, hadn't been easy to find, but one of his good mates from college hooked him up with a three bedroom apartment on the mid west side, where everything seems to be far tech-advanced than others. He simply just loved it all.
He already ordered a few pieces of furniture that should be coming in today. Well, it was more like Sam who chose the couches and tables; he didn't really have a clue on how to match furniture. It was a miracle that he knew how to buy clothes for women.
Lifting a few paintings from Monet and Van Gogh, he hung them near the mirror in the hallway. Nothing seems to warm up a place than some famous artwork by dead artists. When all else is done, he opened his suitcase to take his clothes out and hung them in his closet. He left his socks and underwear still in the duffle bag, waiting for the dresser to come so he can store them away.
His eyes caught the silver box sitting in the corner of the room. He hasn't touched the box since that night they…
It was hard taking the box out from the house in L.A. because Sam was always there with him. And if she saw him holding the box, her curiosity would get better of her and demand that he showed her what was inside. Imagine how she would have reacted if she saw the velvet blue box, opened it, and found a diamond more beautiful, grander, bigger, and more expensive than hers.
Thank god she was busy with a fashion show when he had departed. The box stayed on his lap the entire ride; he wouldn't dare leave it to the baggage claim, who knows what would've happened to it. Probably would've gotten lost or shipped all the way to the bottom tip of Africa.
Walking towards it, he took a seat on the hardwood floor and opened it. Nothing seems to have changed since the last time he opened it. The album was still there, although a little dusty. Lifting it up, he blew the dusts off and watched the little pieces fly in the air and finally falling on the ground. Her name was so ever present there along with his, and it would be there forever. He placed his finger under the cover and tried to open the album but couldn't, he couldn't look at her face again.
So he places the album back into the box and took out the velvet box and snapped it open. Taking the ring out of it's little slit in the while foam fabric, he rolled the round surface between his thumb and index finger, slowly studying its detail. There had been times where he was tempted to throw the ring in to the depths of the sea like one of those heartbroken men in the movies, but he didn't. And he didn't know why.
Fitting the ring back into its slit, he closed the velvet square and placed it carefully into the silver box. Covering the lids back onto the box, he brought the box to his closet and placed it on the top shelf. Light knocks on the door brought him back to the living room. When he opened the door, he was smiling.
There in front of him was Timmy, the boy he had met last year at the park, and his mother. He was a bit surprised when he found out that Timmy was his next door neighbor. He adored the boy deeply and treated him as a little brother or son. "Timmy, my man, how are you?" Logan bent down to see eye to eye with the young child.
"I'm fine. I learned how to ride my scooter today. But I fell and I got a cut on my elbow." Timmy lifted up his sleeves to show the bandaged arm.
"Ouch, I remembered a time when I was young that I fell off my dog." Logan shared his experience.
"A dog? How is that possible? He must be really, really," Timmy gestured with his hands the size of the dog, "big."
"Well yea. Pippy was a huge dog that my dad gave me for Christmas." Logan smiled at the awe look on the boy's face. "Ok, so what do I owe of your company?" He opened the door further to let both Timmy and his mother in. "I'm sorry, but as you can see there are no furniture here yet."
"It's alright," Timmy's mother spoke, "I'm Annie." She offered her hand for a shake, which he took in. "Timmy, here, was baking with me today and we made brownies. He insisted to bring some to you." Annie lifted the plate wrapped with aluminum foil to show him.
"Thank you so much. You have a really lovely son here." Logan complimented, watching as Timmy sat on the floor, with his knees pulled into his chest.
"Thank you. Besides his red hair and brown eyes, he's all his father." Annie laughed. "Alright, Timmy let's go home now, we still have to finish your homework." Annie reached her hand out and grabbed much smaller ones into hers and hoisted him up from the ground. "Ok, say bye to Logan."
"Bye Logan." He smiled brightly.
Logan walked them towards the door, and bent down again to pat him on the head. "Bye kiddo. Enjoy your day." He stood up and said to Annie, "Thanks for the brownies." With a simple wave he closed the door.
Picking up a brownie, he bit half into it before mumbling a sound of approval. He placed the whole thing into his mouth and made his way into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he grabbed the milk carton out, didn't bother to grab a cup, and drank from the opening.
As he was about to pick up another brownie, the phone rang. Picking up his cell phone, his sister's cheerful voice spoke through. Logan pulled the phone away from his ear for a second, before cradling it between his ear and shoulder when he was putting the milk back into the fridge.
"Hello to you too Honor, you sound happy today." Logan laughed, he can picture Honor pacing around in her home, with Bella attached to her leg and screaming for more food.
"Well duh, you know how good it is that you're now closer to home than when you were at San Francisco. I can drop by anytime when I can." Honor gleamed. "I still can't believe it, my brother, a successful owner."
"Well start believing Honor, because it's reality." Even though she couldn't see him, he gave his head a shrug.
"I wonder how dad feels." She asked.
"Seriously Honor, I think he's probably saying that I'm wasting my talents on an internet company that he would never approve of. But deep down he's probably regretting that he never saw much of what I can do on my own. And secretly I'm happy about that." Logan smirked at the thought of his father with all his pride like there's been a stick shoved up his ass.
"Yea that sounds a lot like Mitchum Huntzberger." He can hear her smiling through the receiver.
"He wouldn't be Mitchum Huntzberger if he wasn't a pompous ass." Logan hated to admit it but there was no better way to describe his dad. And even though he knew that his sister would never say something like that out loud, she definitely had though of it.
"So tell me, little brother, how's the place you're in now?" Honor asked, a bit proud of Logan in where he stands today with absolutely no help from his father or that trust fund he had abandoned for four years now. The Logan that she used to know, the one that took a year off of Yale to sink Yacht boats in Fiji, is definitely not the one that's speaking to her now.
"I don't know, Honor." He said as he looked around every aspect of the room, his eyes on the view from his balcony. His breath can be seen in the chilly air, his eyes gets caught up on the naked man sunbathing, he was the same one that Samantha had spotted earlier. "But I'm really going to like it here in New York."
Oooo, Rory and Logan are now in the City together and totally unaware of it. Wonder what would happen next? Lol.
Reviews, Reviews, and Reviews.