Three
"You want us to what?" he practically spat out.
"You heard me son," Mitchum replied.
"But that is just," he paused, attempting to clear his mind of the insanity that had just be brought upon him, "crazy!"
"Logan," his mother started, "did you think you were going to be able to continue like this forever? Spending money, getting drunk, getting arrested, sleeping around… with absolutely no plan for the future?" she shrieked.
"No, but I didn't expect to be auctioned off to the highest bidder!" he roared.
"That's not what happened," Richard began. Logan look to Rory, who a few seconds ago was calm and well, standing. She was now sitting, obviously crumpled by the latest turn of events and he had watched her knees basically go numb as she had sunken down into the nearest chair. She starred at her hands, twisting her ring subconsciously, her fingers working to keep occupied, but she was utterly quiet and still. "It's not like we are asking you two to marry, we simply want you to date, to entertain the idea that this might be a glorious match." Richard explained. "Rory is not accustomed to this world and she has duties to uphold, you have a reputation to live down and need to start being taken seriously. This is an opportunity, she is a smart and beautiful girl, and you would be a lucky man to have her end up at your side."
Had the whole world gone mad? This wasn't the dark ages where spouses were chosen for you at birth. And how could Rory be so calm! She was just sitting there. She should be outraged, she should be angry, she should be as infuriated with them as he was.
"You have to do this son," Mitchum said, as close to Logan as he dared to get. "You have to start settling down. You grandfather is fully retiring next month, the company will be solely mine and on graduating you will become Vice-President of operations. This is your path. This has been your path. The time for goofing off is over, it's high time you stepped up to the hand you've been dealt."
"You don't even care how I feel about this do you?" Logan asked, already aware of the answer.
"You don't even know how you feel," he father replied, "about anything," and the words stung at Logan in a way he never expected. "It's a date Logan, it's a simple request that you and Rory," he father motioned to Rory to grab her attention as well, "see how you fit."
"Rory loves to write, to read, to debate, and she's wanted to be a journalist for as long as she can remember," Emily replied, "your family owns newspapers for goodness sake! She used to pretend to read the New York Times when she was 4, your New York Times as it turns out. You two share more in common than you might think, all we ask is that you give it a try."
"All you demand Emily," Logan spat, not caring for pleasantries at this point, "all ALL of you demand," he stressed. He turned to Rory, whose face was void of any emotion. Was she really buying into all this? Had a few short years around this turned her into a robot? Surely Rory, whose mother escaped society without turning back, had to have learned something about this growing up. Had to have learned that you didn't have to play by their rules, that you could make your own, you could blaze your own path. If she had, she wasn't giving it away now.
"One date?" Logan questioned, knowing it had to be more than just a date for the length they had gone through tonight.
"One year," Mitchum replied.
"And if I refuse?" he questioned.
"It will strongly impact your trust," he father answer matter-of-factly.
Logan dropped his face into his hands, searching for calm, for strength, for an escape route.
"May Logan and I have a moment to ourselves," a sweet symphonic voice chimed in.
"Of course darling," Emily immediately grabbed for Richard's arm and was about to usher everyone to the door, before Rory stopped them.
"No need," she smiled, rising gracefully off her perch, gliding over to where Logan stood. "Care to take a walk with me in the garden," she asked him, her eyes bright, soft, and sweet.
Logan offered his arm, intrigued by her silence and now her response, perhaps they were escaping together. She hooked her arm in his, gently holding on but leaning closer to him than he anticipated. The look on his parent's and her grandparent's faces was priceless as they walked through the French doors and out into the night.
"They are nuts," he blurted out immediately as the doors closed, unable to pretend anything that had just transpired was even close to alright. Still, she remained silent and Logan glanced back at the house where the curtains moved, and he turned his attention back to her. Not only had they been thrust together, they were now under surveillance. Could this night get any stranger?
"I think we should do it," she whispered, stopping Logan in his tracks.
Yes, yes it could.
A/N: Yeah, I know, I seem to be cranking them out, it will slow up eventually, I'm just trying to lay the groundwork before the really story begins.