A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! I don't know how many still are interested in this story, but I have to say that I'm sorry I couldn't update soon. I've been busy with my regular work recently. I think it'll happen from now on too. But I'll try to keep it up!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.

Chapter 11 – June 2012

"I'm afraid that I can't help." Sighed Shelby, who also was trying to reach for Jesse since she heard that Rachel was in trouble because of him.

Rachel felt humiliated since someone—whom she could easily guess it was, or who they were, though she could not say the name out loud since there was no proof—spread a rumor that she was the one to have invited the disaster, like the writer has absconded was because she did shit where they ate.

Some of them whispered that she lavished money on him, or him having made off with her money was in retaliation for that she had cheated on Jesse with another man, which meant Finn, but no one mentioned the name since he was still working for The Musicraker. Or, some said, behind her back, like, she had slept her way to the senior editor or something.

She didn't understand how that kind of a twist was sprinkled on the story, but hey, that was what it was.

She used to think that gratuitous rumors or bullying or something like that existed only in the teenage world, not in the adult world. But it did. It hurt honestly, although, unlike her high school days, she luckily had been surrounded by good people at The Musicraker. She had never imagined that she would have to bear up with these kinds of things.

She would be told that it sometimes came to bite you, if her dad, Leroy, were still alive. Don't get her wrong. She was definitely not a bully. She was just as strict when it came to schedules, procedures, or deadlines, as some of her friends/colleagues claimed, and sometimes kindly suggested that she shouldn't judge the others' way to work by her own standard.

If that was the reason why some coworkers had made up countless and groundless stories about her and her relationships with Jesse or Finn, she needed to learn her lessons this time around.

Rachel took a deep breath. "It's alright." She stood up from the chair. "If you have a chance to talk to him–"

"I'll call you, Rachel, I know." Shelby cut in, looking up at the demoted editor from her chair. "And if you need any, I'll lend–"

"No, I'm fine." This time, Rachel cut in. "I have some savings in my other bank account. My father helps me with this too. But thank you, Shelby."

After Rachel got out of The New Yorker Magazine building, her feet didn't head on her way back to Sue Sylvester Publishing. She began to walk to the nearest subway station to take the #1 train instead. The deadline was in 10 days and she knew that she had no time to waste.

Yet, she needed a fresh air, she needed to be alone, she needed to be away from Manhattan—or the reality. At least for a few hours.

Finn softly knocked on the door as he peeped into the large room in the Midtown in the City. "Did you want to talk?"

"Come in." Not bothering to look up at the photographer, Santana invited Finn, flipping through whatever documents she had to sign. "And sit." She gestured to a chair in front of her desk, still keeping examining the documents before her.

Finn nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he took the chair. "Um, what do you wanna talk?"

Santana finally lifted her head to see the tall guy before announcing. "I've fired Fong." She lolled back further into her chair as she put her feet up on the desk.

"Huh?" Taken aback a little, Finn blinked a few times. "Why?"

"He was useless." Santana massaged her temple with a forefinger. "All he approached were crap." She pressed her secretary's extension number. "Bring her in." She slowly set her feet down on the floor before standing up from her executive chair and sitting on the desk near to him. "Finn, meet your new rep, Marissa." She nodded to the door where a young blonde was standing.

Finn turned his head towards the door. He got out of the chair as the blonde girl made her way over to him. "Uh, hi, I'm Finn." He held his hand out for her to shake.

Marissa took his hand before greeting shyly. "I'm Marissa. I think you already know I'm your new rep."

"She's really good, Finn." Santana gestured for her to take a chair beside Finn. "She had it out with AL Intensity for you." She circled the desk to perch herself on her chair. "You two are going to Buenos Aires next week."

"What?" Finn frowned. AL Intensity was one of the fastest growing fashion brands in the country—Kurt had told him, he remembered—which he had never imagined he was going to work for. "I don't do fashion, Santana."

"I'm glad that you know AL Intensity is a fashion house at least." Santana rolled her eyes. "Rick Denham, who is the designer by the way, in case that you don't know, really liked your photographs on The Musicraker, am I right, Marissa?"

Marissa nodded before turning her head towards the photographer. "He's very excited to meet you, Finn." She scrolled the screen on her phone to check the schedule. "We have a meeting with him at six p.m. on Thursday, and on Friday and Saturday will confer with his staff about the shoot in Buenos Aires."

"What about The Musicraker?" Finn protested.

"What about what?" Santana asked in answer, remaining calm. "Don't tell me that you don't know that your contract is not exclusive with them."

Finn ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean that." He looked up at the ceiling. "I know it's not exclusive, but–" He bit his tongue. He's been worried about Rachel, who was struggling for dealing with the Olympics Issue article which she had to write by herself instead of Jesse St. Jackass.

"You've finished your job for the Olympics Issue, so you're free until they need you for another issue." Santana said nonchalantly. "Besides, Matt is going to get back to work soon." She leaned forwards on her desk. "This is a huge chance to put your name on the world map."

"I don't take pictures to be famous." Finn mumbled.

"But you want to earn your living out of it." Santana pointed out. "Grow up, Finn. You can't be picky," she paused before finishing, "yet."

"This is for commercial use, like in adverts and catalogues. But," Marissa followed, pulling the file out of her tote bag to show him AL Intensity's latest catalogue, "they give emphasis on concepts. And Rick thinks you could share the new one with him."

Finn took the file from his new rep and flipped through it. Marissa was right. Not just did AL Intensity sell clothes, but also its philosophy. He sighed. "Fine, I'll do this."

Rachel perched herself on one of the benches at the riverside in the Pergola area. She loved this place. Since her late father took her here when she was eight. Wave Hill was the only place where she could have a peace of mind. She always came here whenever she felt stressed, heartbroken, lonely, or just sad. She also came to this place when she felt her head almost explode or she wanted to scream just like she did right now. She deeply inhaled the early summer breeze to calm herself and stared at the reflected light on the water surface from the afternoon sun.

Rachel didn't know how long she was sitting there. The closing time would be less than a half hour. She stretched her upper body and stood up from the bench before walking over to the stone rail.

"I've been looking for you."

Rachel let out a sigh. It was not like she forgot that she had told him about this place. She just didn't think that he would remember it or find her here. She slowly turned to see a guy who had talked to her.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" Finn put his camera in his backpack as he approached her. "Why have you avoided me?" He didn't say in an accusing tone, but he clearly looked bothered. "Did I do something wrong?"

Rachel bit her bottom lip and averted her eyes from his. "I left my phone at the office." She said in a low voice. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. I'd rather thank you for the food, wouldn't I? Was that you, wasn't it?" Her eyes still fixed on the reflected light on the water surface.

Rachel knew that Finn had been worried about her since he found her demoted because of Jesse. Deep down, she wanted to throw herself at Finn and cry in his arms. Because, those were the real place she really could feel at peace. More than this garden.

Finn was the kind of person that she had imagined. Even though the fact that he had left her without saying anything before was still hanging in her mind. And she knew that she was falling for him again. Or you could say that she could never fall out of him—that night in London, she had realized (or acknowledged) it. She couldn't resist him when he touched her.

That was terrifying her. She didn't know that was the reason she had cried after they had finished. But one thing was for sure, that she knew that she could never be fixed if he broke her heart again.

She was not supposed to have feelings for him like that, anyway. At least not right now. At least as long as he was working at The Musicraker, or until she got Sue's trust back. She couldn't allow herself to say die.

"You don't need to thank me." Finn rubbed the back of his neck as he stood beside her and followed her gaze. "You should take care of yourself."

"And you should stay away from me." Rachel retorted. "You'll get in trouble otherwise."

"Rachel." Finn sighed and turned around to lean against the stone rail. "Those rumors are crap, you know that right?" He looked down at her.

Rachel was about to open her mouth, but bit her tongue. Finn ran a hand through his hair, not sure either how to start to talk or what to say. An eternal silence hung in the air.

"I want to be of your help, Rach, like you did to me." Finn finally opened his mouth. "Let me help you."

"That was not a help, Finn." Rachel shook her head, knowing what he had meant.

Long before, she and Finn had discussed how to install any kinds of film lenses Finn possessed or liked to buy in his digital cameras, and she had said that she had had someone who could make original lens' mount adapters in her mind at that time. She figured it out after having returned from London, and it turned out that the person could not only make adapters but fix his cameras that Jesse had broken. But she didn't directly tell Finn about the artisanal lady named Shannon Beiste. She told Santana instead.

"Besides, there's nothing you can do." Rachel shook her head. "And I guess you'll be very busy from now on. You won't have enough time to hang around at the office."

"You knew that?" Finn asked. "About AL Intensity?"

"No," Rachel still stared at the river. "I've just heard Santana got a lot of offers. I'm happy for you, Finn." She tilted her head to see his face before smiling genuinely at him. "AL Intensity? That's amazing." But her face soon got frowned as she saw his seemingly unpleasant face. "Aren't you excited? Because AL Intensity is a fashion company?"

"Rachel." Finn let out a sigh. "I took the offer, but honestly? I don't want to go away from the City when it's a difficult time for you." He grabbed her arms to make her turn to face him. "All this crap is my fault, too. I want to do something for you, Rach, I'll do anything for you, to fix."

"No, it's not your fault, Finn." Rachel gently shook his hands off of her arms. "As I said, there's nothing you can do right now."

"Rach–"

"Finn," Rachel interrupted, "he would have done the same thing sooner or later, even if I didn't stay in your hotel room that night." She leaned forward the stone rail, averting her eyes from his. "And that night, we just," she exhaled deeply, "I just caught in a moment and it didn't mean anything. You don't owe me anything."

"It didn't mean anything to you?" Finn whispered with a shaky breath, telling himself more than asking. "I know I should've kept my words or told you everything about what had happened to me before we did that, but Rachel," he tried to get her to see him as he put his and on her arm, "believe me, I was going to see you again to explain everything and apologize when I returned to the City, you know, before Kurt could call me."

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, trying her hardest to let out her emotions. "I believe you, Finn." She slowly opened her eyes and took a deep breath before glancing out of the corner of her eye at a few kids with their parents passing by them and walking over towards the gate. It almost was the closing time. "It seems like our timing is always off, don't you think?" She let out an empty laugh. "I have to go back to work." She started making her way to the gate.

Finn sighed as he followed her. "I walk you to the office."

"I'm fine, Finn." Rachel declined. "I have somewhere to stop by."

"Rach–"

"Finn," Rachel interrupted, "you said you had been lost when you had left. And I get it that you thought you had to solve your problem on your own, right?" She didn't wait for him to answer and continued. "I have to deal with this on my own too. Because," she turned to face him, "The Musicraker is my life, Finn. I don't want to lose my job just because Jesse messed me up. I refuse that will happen. I've worked so hard to get to this point and I have to show Sue my capability and, and–"

"Rachel, I get that." Finn put her hands on her shoulders as he cut in her rambling. "I know you have a lot on your plate right now and I don't mean to bother you."

Rachel nodded. "Thank you for your understanding."

"I hope we can talk when I'm back from Buenos Aires." Finn squeezed her arms.

Rachel smiled weakly. "I hope so, too." She started walking away from him before turning her head to see him. "Good luck on your job with AL Intensity, Finn."

"Thanks." Finn yelled. "And take good care of yourself, Rachel."

Rachel nodded and turned to start walking again. Finn stood at the gate for a while, until the back of her tiny figure disappeared out of his sight.

"What do you think?" Asked Rachel, who had locked herself in the reference room recently. It was getting down to the wire.

"I think," Blaine, who had been helping her to form the article, put down a bunch of printed paper on the table as he finished reading, "this is really great, Rachel!" He gave her a big smile.

"Really?" Rachel wrung her hands, sporting a skeptical look on her face. "You don't need to lie to me just because we're friends. I need your honest opinion."

"Rachel." Mercedes cut in. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I agree with him." She put her hand on Rachel's. "The style of his writing is kind of posh, which I don't like, to be honest. Yours is serious, but it's strewn with honest and fun, you know, your sense of humor. It's very you, and I like it."

"And a little bit critical." Blaine added with a laugh, which he earned a slap from Rachel. "It's a compliment, Rachel. A writer should have his or her own opinion and place it in an article. I meant that was what you've done in this article."

Rachel let out a relieved sigh. "Okay, now I have to go see our editor in chief. Do you think he's going to like it, too?" She saw Blaine and Mercedes frantically nodding. "Okay," she took a deep breath before gathering the sheets of paper from the table, "I got to go." She got out of her chair and walked over to the door before turning her head to see her friends. "Wish me luck."

"You're going to be okay, Rachel." Mercedes reassured with a smile.

"Yeah, he'll be surprised!" Blaine held his fist up in the air.

"Thank you, guys." Rachel appreciated. "I owe you a lot."

"You don't." Mercedes waved her hand to dismiss. "Go, Rachel. We'll wait for you at the bar."

Rachel nodded and emerged out of the reference room with hope.

Mercedes tapped her finger on the table irritably. It had been more than two hours since Rachel went to Will's office, but there was no sign that she would show up at Figgins' bar. "Why do you think it's taking so long?" She asked to the senior writer.

"I have no idea." Blaine sipped his beer. "I thought that the article she wrote was really good."

"Yeah, I thought so, too." Mercedes frowned. "And I thought Will would like it."

"Guys!" Tina ran into the two of them and put her hands on the knees before taking a deep breath to calm herself from panting. "All hell has broken loose!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Blaine made a face, patting Tina on her back.

"Be prepared to hear this information, guys." Tina looked around to make sure there were no colleagues other than the two in front of her. "After we have returned from London, Sue got her assistants to investigate everything about Jesse and guess what?" She leaned forwards before whispering. "She found out that Jesse plagiarized in some of his articles."

"What?" Mercedes and Blaine cried out in unison.

"Sugar heard from Bree and I heard from Sugar, so it's a bit difficult to tell where the truth ends, but," Tina paused before informing, "Jesse plagiarized some UK magazines and French ones and our company has been charged with piracy by one of the writers."

"Is that why Rachel hasn't showed up yet?" Mercedes asked.

"She and Will were summoned to Sue's office. So, yeah, I think it is." Tina nodded. "I need a drink." She beckoned a waiter to get her a glass of red wine.

"Oh God," Mercedes buried her face in her hands, "this is bad, really bad."

"Do you think Rachel and Will get fired?" Blaine asked, sporting a concerned look on his face.

Tina shook her head. "I don't know, but I'm sure they'll be called to account, unfortunately."

"I will kill Jesse when I see him!" Mercedes banged the table with a fist, which caused Tina's glass almost to fall from the table. "How dare he do to her?" She rubbed her forehead with a hand annoyingly. "Where's Finn?"

"Kurt told me that he left for Buenos Aires yesterday." Blaine answered. "He'll be back to the City in two weeks."

"I gotta go." Mercedes got out of her high chair. "I have to check up on her." She began making her way over the entrance of the bar.

"I'll come with you." Tina and Blaine followed Mercedes.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Puck yelled at them behind the bar counter. "Where's my midget?"

"We don't have time to explain right now, Puck." Tina yelled back at him, and caught up with Mercedes and Blaine outside of the bar, leaving the bar owner wearing a quizzical look on his face.

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