Thank-you all for the super sweet reviews on the last chapter! Your dedication to this story continues to amaze me!!! It's long, this one is, so I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own GG.

Logan wasn't the type to shy away from confrontation; avoid the matters at hand. He was impulsive, spontaneous and didn't care about the details. He lived far too in the moment to care about the repercussions of his actions. As a teenager, this kind of behavior had him in hospital beds and on a first name basis with all of his father's lawyers. On the few occasions he had travelled back to Hartford, it was the reason for legendary screaming matches with his father and his casual attitude contributed to the gossip – people considered him to be the brazenfaced son of one of the most poised men in society.

However, since starting at the London Publications Division at HPG, Logan's way of trusting his impeccable business instincts, quick decision making and a general 'just do it' approach earned him a reputation as a force to be reckoned with and turned the floundering division around. Not that it was his passion, but he figured that if he played by his father's rules for a few more years – and succeeded – he would eventually gain free reign and venture into something he truly was passionate about. It was no wonder, then, that Huntzberger had left the apartment early in the morning, leaving his forced-upon protégé resting uncomfortably on the couch.

However, one had to wonder why he had decided to work an eighteen hour day, instead of a more reasonable eight, and left the introductory mentoring duties up to Finn. He convinced himself he wasn't avoiding her, but that he simply needed to work. A coffee pot and an apologetic note let her know that he truly was sorry.

By the time Logan returned to the apartment it was late at night. He found Finn in his room, passed out with a half glass of red wine, empty box of bonbons and a few copies of Cosmopolitan Magazine. Logan assumed that Rory had left the party and gone up to her place, since she wasn't at his. Her presence remained though. In the few hours she'd been there, it was different. His carefully crafted bachelor pad had been infiltrated by a girl. Her sweet scent - a mix of jasmine shampoo, vanilla body lotion and laces of freshly brewed coffee - seemed to have pervaded the air in his apartment.

And for that reason Logan excused himself from his mentoring duties for a second day in a row and found himself back at his modern, important-looking glass and steel desk. It was rarely quiet at the office; however, it was on this particular afternoon.

Of course, on the day he needed distraction there wasn't any. The phones weren't ringing, his e-mail wasn't pinging with alerts of important new messages and his blackberry wasn't vibrating with must-read texts. He had reviewed all of the new contracts, signed-off on deals with investors, looked at proposals and lined up some prospects for the next quarter. Logan had even done the most mundane things, like organize his bookshelf and rifle through desk drawers, throwing away busted pens, twisted paperclips and rusty thumbtacks.

One folder remained on his desk – the For the Future Writers Program. It was a typical manila file folder

and contained a spreadsheet of all the participants, the program outline and list of seminars the participants would be taking. Logan quickly flicked through the pages – it all looked simple and straightforward – but it wasn't.

Logan let out a frustrated sigh and tossed the folder back on his desk, before getting up and grabbing a Coke from his fridge. He let himself fall back in his leather arm chair, popped the can on his drink and took a big sip and savored the fizziness on his tongue as he leaned back in his chair.

When Mitchum explained the concept to him, it all seemed so simple. Take a girl in, put her in that apartment above him and make sure she gets through the Writers Program without a hitch. The only catch was that he had to leave the girl alone. Obviously, Mitchum hadn't spoken about 'love' in the traditional sense; however, that was probably because the old man doubted his son was actually capable of engaging in a full-blown, committed, love me, love you type of love. Logan didn't have any qualms about breaching the agreement with Mitchum if he was completely sure of his feelings.

And that's where things got complicated, that's what had him hiding out in his office. He couldn't deny being wrapped up in her. But was it love? No other girl had ever caught his attention like this before. But this wasn't a seven hour plane ride followed by a string of flirty texts. This wasn't a coy conversation over soup and sandwiches. This was a lot more.

Logan heaved a heavy sigh as he let his chair snap back to its normal position. His eye caught hold of the manila folder once more and he dropped his head and massaged his neck slightly. This program mean the world to her and he didn't to mess it up for her. He didn't want to distract her from obtaining her goal. She was in London to write – not to be with him. He understood and yet het couldn't stop himself from sending her that damned coffee maker.

Being impulsive gave him control of the situation and now, with her, with a girl practically living in his apartment, her high expectations of him – as a mentor! – sent his head into a spin. He was not in control; this was uncharted territory. He had lost his grip.

Logan tipped back the last of his soda and conceded that he did not like being out of control. The office had lost it's function of being a distraction. It was time to go home and take back some of the power he relinquished.

"Hello!" Logan called out as he entered his apartment. He had half-expected to find Rory and Finn sipping wine and reading Cosmo on the couch, jumping up to meet him enthusiastically, but apparently, Logan wasn't on either of their minds as his call was met by silence.

Music, laughter and chatter came from the kitchen, so Logan decided that that was his best bed. As he stepped into the area, he went unnoticed. Finn and Rory were completely wrapped up in their world and Logan was slightly surprised that the two had seemed to from an unbreakable bond in such a short period of time. He leaned against the doorway as he watched the two interact.

Rory sat on the countertop, still clad in baggy navy sweat pants and a light blue tank top, even though it was well into the afternoon. Her hair was swept up in a goofy ponytail and any strays were held back by a thick elastic headband. A coffee cup sat beside her as she held a cookbook in her right hand and a beater from the mixer in her left. She waved it around as if she was conducting a symphony; not minding that big drops of batter fell on the kitchen counter. Finn intently listened to her instructions as he bent over the counter, unknowingly exposing his boxers to Logan. Luckily, the front of the boy was covered by a cheeky apron.

She watched as Finn followed her directions, but it wasn't coming along. "Love, this doesn't look right to me!" Finn stopped stirring to examine the contents of the bowl carefully, before passing it on to Rory.

"It's too lumpy!" Rory concluded with a frown. She dunked her middle finger in the mixture for a taste, but gagged as soon as her finer made contact with her tongue. "This is no good," she informed him as she tossed her beater baton in the bowl and jumped off the counter. "We'll just have to start over! Get the flour!"

Finn let out a heavy sigh in protest. "Not again! Why don't we just go out?"

Rory stopped in her tracks and whipped her head around. "Because, Finn-love, these stupid London restaurants stop serving waffles at noon!"

"Money talks. We could order a chef!" Finn suggested with a hopeful smile, but Rory wasn't hearing it as she dropped the bowl in the sink. "I'm not ordering a chef!"

"But…" Finn tried to interject, but Rory was off on a ramble. "I mean, we should be able to make some waffles. I shouldn't have to depend on a restaurant or a chef to make me food…" She looked up at Finn and cocked her head to the side. "How do you do it?"

Finn's lips curled into a smile, but he resisted the urge to say 'dirty' and take her question as an innuendo. "Logan can cook. Apart from the company it provides my lonely soul, the food is so good I can't stay away."

Logan grinned at his friend's answer, but his smile grew even further as he saw the surprise on Rory's face.

"He can?"

"That's right, he can!" Logan laughed and he revealed his presence. "And tell us, Bill, what else can he do?" he asked Finn.

"Well," Finn drew out, continuing smoothly in this fake infomercial scene, "… you won't believe it, but he slices and he dices and he makes julienne fries, whatever the hell those may be!"

Logan stayed in his role and let out a perfect gasp, prompting Finn to carry on. "But, wait, there's more! If you call us in the next four minutes and thirty seven seconds, he'll slice and he'll dice with a set of free, that's right, completely free set Ginsu Knives!"

"It's the legend of all knives!" Logan exclaimed in an overdramatic way and Finn nodded. "That's right; get your legend now!"

Logan switched back to the surprised voice and added a girlish squeal. "Really?"

"No, mate," Finn laughed, shaking his head, "I haven't a clue where to get Ginsu knives!"

"Just call the number on your screen now!" Rory chimed in with a hearty laugh. Finn joined her, though it took Logan by surprise. It shouldn't have; he knew the girl was funny. "Oh, julienne fries are just potatoes that have been cut into long thin strips."

Finn shot her a bewildered look. "You are like an encyclopedia, love."

Logan made brief eye contact as he nodded approvingly and her lips pulled into a involuntary smile. He didn't wait to see it, though, as he was busy glancing around his messy kitchen. "So, kids, what were we trying to make?"

"Waffles," Finn admitted through an exasperated sigh and Logan laughed, patting him on the back. "Never knew you were such a Suzie Homemaker!"

Finn looked up at Logan and shrugged deeply. "It's what the lady wanted and you know Finnegan has to satisfy the ladies…."

Logan let out an unimpressed snort. " So, she threatened to flush your vodka?"

"Bodily harm," Rory quipped through an easy smile and Logan chuckled. "Really, man?"

He simply raised his hands in defense. "She's got sharp nails."

As a wave of laughter came over Finn and Rory, Logan exchanged a quick glance between the pair, suddenly unsure whether they were joking or being sincere.

"Well then," Logan smirked as he started to roll up his sleeves. "Prepare to be dazzled as the master shows you how it's done…"

He chuckled a little to himself, making waffles wasn't exactly how he intended to take control of the situation, but it was working as he felt Rory's eyes on him.

"Not me, mate." Finn broke through Logan's thoughts. "I must take a shower. Some waffle batter has gotten onto bits it doesn't belong…" He shot Logan a pointed look and pointed at Rory. "Not a peep out of you!"

Rory threw her head back in laughter after mumbling a quick dirty. She continued laughing as Finn made his way out of the kitchen.

Logan's eyes on her ceased her laughing and she shot him a small smile. "Looks like it's just you and me then, stranger," she said as she hopped up onto the counter.

He stopped messing with the jars of flour and sugar for a moment to look at her. It was obvious that his absence affected her; however, he wasn't sure to what extent. Was she let down by him failing her as a mentor, or had she genuinely missed him?

"I'm sorry to have left you with Finn…" Logan said with an apologetic smile, but Rory waved his apologies away.

"You had to work, don't worry about it and Finn is the best London tour guide ever." Her smile was sincere, but her eyes and tone didn't exactly match. Still, he couldn't help feeling that she was giving him an easy out and he didn't want her to think that he didn't care. Logan shot her a half-smile. Normally girls scoffed at the boy's metro sexual tendencies and inappropriate innuendos. "Really?"

"Yeah, definitely," Rory nodded enthusiastically, "that boy is a hoot and a half."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Ace," Logan laughed genuinely.

"Besides," she continued her story, "I'm sure you were working on something really big and you didn't want any distractions…"

This caught his attention and he put her eyes to hers. "Distractions?"

"Finn barging into your office every five seconds wanting to know if he's a Winter or Autumn, if you fancy a drink or if those peg leg jeans make his butt look big…."

Logan snorted at the accurate description she was giving of Finn. It was true; the boy could certainly be distracting. He was a little bittersweet to realize that she did not place herself in that category, but then again, she wasn't all ego like him – she'd probably never admit that she fancied herself a distraction to him.

"Yeah," he said, letting the conversation linger in the air, before taking control. "Put that cookbook away. We've got waffles to make!"

"But, but, but…" she sputtered as he gently took the book away from her. "I'll make you waffles, but we don't need the book. I've got it covered."

Rory watched in awe as he loose-handedly poured some flour in a bowl, threw in a dash of sugar and cracked an egg. She had to admit, it was kind of sexy how he stood there, with his white dress-shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, his expensive leather business shoes still on his feet. Obviously, he wasn't worried about spilling batter on them as he self-assuredly maneuvered his way around the kitchen to make her some waffles.

"Hand me that whisk," he pointed at the jar of cooking utensils on the counter, "it's that silvery thing with the long narrow handle and the wire loops joined at the end."

Rory laughed as she fished the whisk from the container. "That's a very thorough description," she teased as she handed it to him.

"I wasn't sure if you knew; you don't strike me as much of a cook," he shot back lightly.

"Really now?" Rory said with mock sarcasm, "What ever gave you that idea?"

Logan dropped his head as a soft laugh escaped him and she bowed her head to meet his. "But I do know what a whisk is," she informed him with a sweet smile.

Her breath tickled a little on his neck, but she wasn't aware – or perhaps she was too keenly aware – of the signals she was giving off as her head had moved away from his and to the bowl of waffle mix. "Can I taste?"

Logan nodded and reflexively dipped his own finger in. For a split-second his batter-coated digit set off in the direction of her mouth, but Logan's brain quickly registered that her licking the batter off his finger would be crossing so many boundaries, so he popped it in his own mouth. His lips pulled in to an awkward smile as he licked clean his finger and used his other hand to gesture towards the bowl. She smiled an equally self-conscious grin as her finger dipped into the batter. She popped her finger in her mouth, but refrained from making it look sexy.

"So much better than Finn's concoction," Rory said approvingly. "You know what would make it better, though?"

Logan cocked his head to the side. "No, what?"

"Chocolate chips."

"No." Logan shot down the suggestion immediately. "Only a heathen would eat would a chocolate chip waffle, Ace!"

"Pagan! Party of one!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, as her hand flew up. He let out an amused snort, but he held firm on his no chocolate chip rule.

"Oh, come on!" she pleaded, lightly put off by his OCD waffle ways, "just try it!"

"Just like I tried Spanish Coffee?" he retorted.

Rory crossed her arms over her chest as she caught his gaze. "That was instant, so it doesn't count."

"It was still coffee that ruined a perfectly good shot of rum!"

"Instant, I tell you!"

Logan whipped his head around and looked at her in disbelief. "Ace!"

A moment of awkward tension passed between them, neither willing to back down in the Great Chips or No Chips debate.

"All I'm saying is that coffee and booze are entirely different from waffles and chocolate…." Rory tried again, causing Logan to let out a semi-exasperated sigh. "Just sprinkle the chips on top!"

For a moment, he thought his logic had won her over, but as soon as the pout appeared on her face he knew he had lost. That pout could slay any man, it wasn't just him who was affected by it.

"It's not the same," she said, before the pout turned into a sly smile. "Look, I'll cut you a deal. How 'bout if you sprinkle in a few handfuls of chocolate chips, then I will…."

"You'll what?" Logan asked, tipping his head to the side. Suddenly, their faces were undeniably close. It was because he was so tall and she had arched her back forward as she sat atop his counter, but really, just a few inches separated them. Rory cocked her head to the side, locking her eyes to his. "I'll drink a Coke."

He pulled away, putting some much needed distance between them. Her answer caught him off-guard, but then again, the whole exchange –everything recently – had, so he decided that maybe relinquishing control wasn't the way to go about this. Maybe going with the flow was better.

"You'll drink a Coke?" he asked again, with an disbelieving smirk gracing his face.

Rory nodded a quick nod. "I will."

"Well then, B…" Logan dumped the bag of chocolate chips in the bowl. "… you've got yourself a deal!"

By the time the waffles were done, Finn returned from his shower and with that, the tension that filled the room had evaporated. Rory was right, the Aussie boy really was an excellent distraction. They ate waffles, joked about the miserable state of Finn's love life and watched a movie – Rory's choice obviously. They called it a night around ten, since tomorrow marked the first day of the Writers Program.

Logan couldn't just call it a night, though, since he was too wrapped up in today's happenings. However, he refused to spend any more valuable time going over different scenarios in his mind. He was above that. He sat straight up in bed, his laptop resting comfortably on his lap as he punched the keys feverishly. It might be a Sunday night in London, but it was Monday morning in Asia. It wasn't really his market, but he had promised Mitchum to look into some opportunities in that part of the world. And Logan wasn't one to break a promise, was he?

Meanwhile, Rory lay a floor above him, tossing and turning in bed as sleep didn't come easily that night for her; the Waffle Incident was on constant loop in her mind. For the second time she had practically kissed Logan. The first could be blamed on jet-lag and her jumbled emotions still trying to process the death of her grandfather. The second time – leaning over a bowl of waffle batter in his kitchen – was inexcusable. She had told herself time and time again that she didn't want this; that she couldn't want this. Writing was her priority, not something that seemed like a lot of like, maybe even love. Rory forced herself to push thoughts of how easily their banter flowed and how perfect his lips looked to the far corners of her mind. She was in London to write, not play house with Logan and she was determined to succeed, she wouldn't let Mitchum or her grandfather down.

Monday morning arrived quickly, though it couldn't have come soon enough for Rory. This was the morning she had been waiting for, her new beginning. From now on, at least within FTF, she'd 'just' be Rory Gilmore. Her last name might sound familiar, but away from society and without the slew of her other names, she was sure she'd be treated as a normal girl.

She entered the Marriot Hotel with a huge grin plastered on her face. Finn had offered to walk her the block or so to the hotel, but Rory insisted on going alone. She flashed a quick smile at some of the other Future Writers as she followed them down the hall to the conference room, where the Introduction Assembly was set to take place.

Logan filled her in that he'd open the event with a speech and a breakfast social would follow, but he didn't elaborate on the details and he had left early, just leaving Finn to pass on good luck wishes this morning. Rory watched as other randomly took their seats, though she waited a moment to eye the available chairs in the room as the spot she picked now determined her place for the rest of the program.

A seat in the back was reserved for slackers, partiers: the rowdier crowd. Choosing to go on the first row, front and center, was far too eager, pretentious. She settled on a the third row from the front and picked a seat that was a little left of the middle chair. It offered a great view of the lectern (and Logan), but she wouldn't be in his direct view, which was good. He wasn't supposed to know her.

Rory cast a glance around the room and a content smile appeared on her face as she flicked through the welcome pamphlet she had received at the registration desk.

"Are these seats taken?" A silky smooth British accent drew her from her thoughts and she looked up. Her breath caught as her eyes locked on the face that could only belong to that voice. He was most definitely an attractive specimen in the traditional sense, what with his head of wavy chocolate-colored hair, deep, intelligent green eyes and his lips curved into a perfect smile, but he wasn't Rory's type. His voice; however, caused her to melt.

"S-s-sorry?" she managed as she realized that she had been staring at those lips for too long. She had officially crossed over to the awkward stare and that was a bad first impression.

"If these seats are taken?" he said again and smiled a little at her. "I'm sorry to have startled you."

"Oh," Rory sighed, suddenly hating the exaggerated tones of her harsh American accent. "You didn't startle me, these seats are free." She gestured vaguely at the hard blue chairs next to her and shot him an expectant smile.

"I'm Nicholas," he spoke as he extended his hand for her to shake.

"Rory," she introduced herself as she grabbed hold of his hand. They engaged in some idle chit-chat, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, except, of course, for his voice. Rory had heard the British accent many times before but nothing quite like his.

He seemed like a pretty good guy. Affluent, but not high in society, Rory could tell by his last-year Ralph Lauren wardrobe, but then again, she had walked in here toting her Birkin, so really, she wasn't one to judge. He didn't appear to hide behind his wealth, he seemed pretty intelligent and funny and he appeared to have a girlfriend, based on the perky blonde that was headed their direction.

"Oh, excellent seats, mate," the blonde chirped as she plopped down next to him on the chair. She immediately stuck out her hand and Rory took it. "I'm Gemma. I'm sure Nick introduced himself to you, yeah?"

Rory couldn't help but smile at the girl. She was a little brash, rough around the edges and so unlike the society types she usually met. She bounced and bubbled with life. For a split-second Rory pictured them as friends, cramming for tests, comparing notes and hanging out at some bar after classes.

"….so anyway, that's what I did when I found out I was accepted!," Gemma finished off her ramble with an excited nod. It was obvious she was waiting for Rory to share her acceptance story, but all she could muster was a smile, especially since she had tuned out the rest of Gemma's tale.

"What about you Nick?" Rory asked.

"Ooh, it's Nicholas for normal folk," Gemma interjected, "I'm the only one who can call him Nick."

"Perks of being a couple?" Rory inquired with a smirk, but Nicholas nixed that suggestion right away.

"Gemmy wishes she were my girlfriend," he informed her with a laugh, "but she'll never get past the best friend mark…"

"…what Nick means to say, is that he wishes he were my boyfriend," Gemma interjected, "…it's just that an unfortunate drunken night when we were seventeen determined that we'd be better off as best friends."

Rory stifled a laugh as she watched Gemma and Nicholas interact. The two seemed to have all the making to be sweethearts. She was about to ask Nicholas –not Nick – about how he ended up at the FTF Writers Program, when the lights dimmed slightly and the hundred or so heads in the room turned to face the stage.

Mouths opened slightly as the one-and-only Logan Huntzberger confidently strode across the podium and took his place behind the lectern. Gemma winked at Rory and she couldn't help but notice that a lot of the ladies in the room had their eyes on Logan for entirely different reasons, she had to agree with them, though; he looked like a star up on that stage.

Logan waited for the excited chatter to die down as he glanced around the room. He rested her eyes on Rory for a split-second before clearing his throat.

"A very good morning and a very warm welcome to all of you Future Writers." He waited for the polite round of applause to die down before he continued. "This morning marks the start of one of the most intense periods of your life. You have all been invited to participate in this program based on your exceptional writing talent.. Your drive, your motivation, your true passion for the field. And, just because you have that, just because you are sitting here today, doesn't mean the coming three months will be a walk in the park…."

He waited a beat for his words to sink in.

"The days will be long, the work will be challenging, people might drop out and only one position is available at the end. However, what's more important than the position at HPG at the end, is the experience you will gain. That, writers of the future, is invaluable. You will be exposed to all facets of writing life and you will meet the top men that work at, or are associated with Huntzberger Publishing Group, making them the industry leaders. Can anyone tell me what market share HPG currently holds in the market?"

About a dozen hands shot up, including Rory's. She had wanted to keep a semi-low profile the first day and not draw unnecessary attention to herself but she could not help being a show-off. She practically burst with pride as he tipped his head towards her and gestured for her to answer the question.

"Worldwide, HPG holds an exceptionally high market share of 76 per cent," she spoke in a clear confident tone. She felt the other Writers looking at her, probably bubbling with jealously. "It dominates the US, European and Australian market and ranks second in Asia, Africa and South-America. Regional publications are its most profitable asset; however, it's most known for publishing major papers like The Wall Street Journal, New York Times or the Telegraph here in the UK."

She kept her eyes on his as she answered the question, though she could here how know-it-all she sounded as she answer the question, she could practically hear the other participants role their eyes. Logan stopped the smirk that threatened to break out on his face – Rory was in this to win it and he liked it.

He nodded approvingly. "That's a very thorough description," Logan said and Rory was instantly transported back to his kitchen, talking about waffles and whisks.

He, on the other hand, kept his professional cool. "This young lady is a force to take into consideration. Showcasing one's knowledge, willing to expand that knowledge and a competitive streak are needed to be successful in this program," Logan boomed into his microphone, before shooting off another question and giving other participants the chance to outshine Rory.

"That was some kick-off, wasn't it?" Gemma sighed dreamily as the three stood in line for coffee at the breakfast social. "I can't believe Mr. Huntzberger called you a force to reckon with! I mean, on the first day and all…"

Rory looked at Gemma incredulously and Nicholas stepped in. "You've got to forgive Gemmy, she's starstruck. If there was a Logan Huntzberger fan club she's be president."

Rory shot a quick glance around the room as she laughed uncomfortably. "Really? Why?" she changed her tone a little as she suddenly found herself on the receiving end of one of Gemma's death glares. "I mean, at the end of the day, he's just a guy, too, right?"

It was Gemma's turn to shoot Rory a disbelieving look and Nicholas let out a hearty laugh. "No one has ever dared say that to Gem."

Rory laughed in return and kept up causal conversation with him as Gemma kept a firm eye on the object of her fan club. They shuffled up to the table where there was a spread of coffee, tea, muffins and bagels and Rory helped herself.

Before attempting to mingle, Rory took a sip of her coffee. "Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the camel!"

"Is there a problem?"

Rory whipped her head around and met Logan's gaze head on. She looked down at her paper coffee cup and held it out in front of her. "Uh, this is really bad coffee."

A smirk flashed across his face as Gemma let out a horrified gasp. "Oh, Mr. Huntzberger, sir! She didn't mean that. This coffee is perfectly fine…." She took a big sip to demonstrate that the coffee was drinkable, but the way her nose scrunched up in disgust told the truth. "… it's the best!" she added, in an attempt to save face.

"Call me Logan and don't worry about it. I don't drink the stuff, so I'm not offended if you hate it…." Logan laughed as extended his hand to Gemma.

The girl eagerly grabbed hold of Logan's hand, but she was too caught up in the moment to reveal her name.

"Gemma," Rory supplied for her with a smile and she turned to Nicholas. "This is Nicholas, though you can't call him Nick. I made that mistake earlier…"

Logan nodded slowly, though he shot her a little look of disproval. If Rory kept up this friendly, casual attitude her cover would be blown in no time. Plus, he'd seen the little grin Nicholas had given her just now and he wasn't too fond of it.

"Rory," Nicholas chastised lightly, "Logan can call me Nick if he wants…"

"Mr. Huntzberger," Logan corrected with a firm smile, "and I'd like to take you up on that offer, Nick."

Nicholas frowned slightly – he ruined making his first impression - but didn't let it bother him. He extended his hand, trying to salvage what was left of the few precious minutes with the big boss. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Huntzberger and it's a great honor to be here."

"Someone in admissions let you through, Nick, you've earned it…" Logan replied coolly and quickly shook the boy's hand, before turning to Rory.

"And your name, miss? I need to let the people responsible know who had issues with the coffee…."

"Rory," she said and avoided looking him in the eye as he shook her hand. The world didn't come to a screeching halt as their hands touched, like Rory semi-expected, business continued as usual since Logan continued with his standard welcoming shtick.

"Lovely to meet you, Rory. Fantastic way to answer that question," he complimented her and she smiled absentmindedly taking another sip of her coffee.

He sighed to himself as he saw her face contort and gently took the cup away from her.

"But, but, but…" she sputtered in protest.

"It's probably instant," he said sweetly, looking at the brownish liquid in the cup. She chuckled and the two shared a brief look before he turned away to mingle with the others.

Rory's lips curled into a thoughtful smile as she watched Logan introduce himself to other groups of eager, jittery future writers, all hoping that their clichéd introductory sentences would be the one to wow Logan, the one to make the lasting impression. Looking at it through society eyes, she couldn't help feel a little disgusted about how everyone was playing major suck-up. It never occurred to her that it might be genuine.

Still, she couldn't wait to start with the real program. Gemma and Nicholas's talking invaded her thoughts and she forced her eyes off Logan to focus on the conversation with her new friends.

Logan was right. This was going to be hard.

And if you think that was hard, it's going to get harder. We are dealing with denial, avoidance and a bunch of mixed signals here… Gem and Nick won't cause all that much drama (if Love Squares is what you wish I refer you to my other story Messing with Forever) but they'll certainly stick around for awhile…. Thanks for reading & please review! Much love!