Author's Note: This story actually came to me during a class. It is my first AU and I hope I don't mess it up too much. Let me know if the details get sketchy or you don't understand something. I'll make sure to correct it. Thanks and I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Gilmore Girls.
Prologue: Just End Already!
Rory couldn't control the grin as she stared at the morning paper. There it was, for all the world (or at least New York City) to read "By Rory Gilmore." Her byline. On the front page. Above the fold. It was too much to keep to herself. She whipped out her Blackberry as she took off towards her boyfriend's office. He may have already seen it, but she deserved having the company of someone else when she celebrated.
"Hello?" her mother's voice asked.
"Hey Mom. Did you get the paper this morning?" Rory tried to sound nonchalant but knew she failed when her mother screamed.
"Rory! Did you get front page? Oh, that is awesome! I can't believe it! Wait, let me find the paper so I can hold it over everybody's heads that my daughter is so amazing." Rustling was heard in the background as Lorelei shifted through the mail. "Here it is! Oh, Rory, I'm taking this to be framed. I'm not even going to read it. I'll just hang it in the inn for everyone to see. I'm so proud of you!"
Rory laughed breathlessly as she dodged between black trench coats and yellow taxis. "Thanks, I'm on my way to Preston's office now to share it with him." She had met Preston at Yale after breaking up with Logan. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. 6'2" with raven black hair and grey eyes, he had the lanky build of a runner. He was charming, witty and pleasurable to hang around. But sometimes Rory found herself wondering if she wasn't missing something with him.
She shook off the melancholy and put a smile on as she stepped off the elevator. Gaudy red wallpaper and gold carpet met her gaze as she walked towards the sleek desk. The tidy receptionist influenced the already heavy suggestion of money and success. The elaborate set-up made Rory sad. Maybe the reason she hadn't committed completely to Preston was the fact that he associated with such distasteful people. Rory considered this as she said good-bye to her mother and faced the woman seated at the desk.
"Is Mr. Grant in today?" Rory asked. Even though she and the receptionist knew each other well outside of the office, appearances had to be kept, or so Preston told her.
"He is. Shall I buzz you in?"
"That's alright, Kelsey, I'll surprise him." Rory smiled at the woman and strode eagerly down the hallway. Preston would probably be proud of her. He had an annoying habit of listing her latest accomplishments to the people he introduced her to, as if that would make up for her lowly profession, one he had made strong arguments against. She rolled her shoulders at the tension that brought her. That was an argument for another time.
As she walked around Preston's secretary's desk, Rory found the blonde missing. Oh, well that figured. The girl was always painting her fingernails or chatting on the phone when Rory came to see Preston. Her absence from her post came as no surprise to her but Rory figured she might as well mention it to Preston. He may not like the fact that his secretary left her desk unmanned for unscheduled periods of time.
Rory opened the door to Preston's office, a determined smile on her face. She would enjoy sharing her good news with him, because he was her boyfriend. And that was that. The smile melted when she took in the scene in front of her.
Preston obviously didn't mind if his secretary took time away from her desk. And going by the expression on his face when he exploded into the blonde's scarlet mouth, he probably encouraged it. Rory felt relief swamp her that she had never taken Preston to her bed.
Preston opened bleary eyes halfway to thank Joie but instead of seeing Joie's face he saw Rory's pale and horrified one. One glance at her eyes proved his suspicion: he couldn't talk himself out of this one. But, being male and possessing a Y-chromosome, he tried anyway.
"Rory, it's not what you think." He babbled as he hurriedly tucked his deflated manhood away. He yanked up his zipper and tried to tuck his shirt in while approaching Rory. Joie simply sat on the floor, unsure of what to do.
"Don't come near me Preston. Just so we're clear, it's over." Rory calmly turned on her heel and headed out the door. Preston ran after her and caught her at the elevator. Kelsey listened avidly as she typed. Aware of her curiosity, Preston kept his voice low. Appearances, after all, Rory thought bitterly. She pushed the call button as Preston spoke.
"Rory, come on. That was one time. I just had to let off some stress." Rory ignored him. "Rory, don't be like that. We have good thing going for us. You can't let something like this get in the way." As she continued to act as if he didn't exist, he further proved his inherent maleness by saying, "If you would have been doing what Joie was all too willing to do, then this would never have happened."
The elevator operator witnessed Rory Gilmore giving Preston Grant a hard slap right before she calmly stepped on. Preston held his cheek and stared at her in shock. Rory glared back.
"Do you honestly believe I'll buy that load of crap from you? You must have left your intelligence in Joie's mouth along with your sperm. I told you I wanted this to be clear. We are over. You can just go to-" Even though the elevator closed on her last livid word, Preston heard it. So did the other twenty people in the law reception area.
At Rory's work, nearly quitting time…
Rory typed furiously as she muttered against the discrepancies of men. It was her fault that he couldn't keep his zipper up? Stupid ape of a man, she thought. Wrapping up her report on her assignment, she punched the print button and felt immense satisfaction from the hard contact. The phone on her desk ringing interrupted her fierce satisfaction though.
"Gilmore." She snapped.
"I want you in my office in ten minutes." It was her boss, Gary Carrick, editor of the New York Chronicle. Rory rubbed the back of her neck. If he was using his superior tone, she must be in trouble. How could a day that had had such a promising start end so badly, she wondered?
"I'll be there." Rory sighed as she hung up. She picked up her printed article and grabbed her coat too. She would hand Gary her article, listen to his lecture and then declare it a day. She needed Ben & Jerry's to cheer her up.
Five minutes later she knocked on the scratched wooden door of Gary's office. His mumbled "come in" sounded less surly than his earlier phone call and Rory tried to take heart from that. She pushed the door open and studied her boss.
At 47 years old, he was holding up his age pretty well. Dark brown hair shot through with grey at the temples was rumpled from him running his fingers through it all day. His suit, which would have been impeccable at seven this morning, now bore a coffee stain on the dark blue tie and wrinkles reformed the white shirt. However bedraggled his clothing looked, his face was much more so. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth, normally underlying his sense of humor, now dragged his face into a weary expression that broke Rory's heart. Admittedly a soft heart, but she hated to see a friend/coworker so beaten.
"Here's my article for tomorrow. What's up? Can I help with something?" Gary just took the article and waved her to a seat. He leaned back in his chair and propped his chin on his fist.
"We have a new reporter coming in from the New York Times. He was their international reporter but now he's ours." Rory's breath caught painfully in her chest. Please, anything but this.
"But… I thought we were going for a person from inside the paper for the position."
"We were, but Mr. Temple the C.E.O. said he wanted someone with experience. The reporter he's got coming was even considered for a Pulitzer a few years back." Gary shrugged his shoulders and offered a half-hearted smile. "I'm sorry, Rory, but he's going to be a member of the staff. I tried to get you in but…" another shrug completed the sentence.
The ice cream sitting in her freezer was sounding better and better. Rory was crushed. When she had found out that Gayle Dawson, the current international reporter for the Chronicle was leaving, Rory had immediately applied. After hearing the rumors of an in-house transplant she'd found her hopes growing despite her own warnings against it. What a day, she thought tiredly.
"That's okay, Gary. We'll make do." She smiled. "At least I have the article from today to tide me over. Maybe I can learn some stuff from the new reporter and get his job."
Gary laughed. "That's what I love about you Rory, you don't throw fits." He didn't know of the one she planned to have once she got home. "I appreciate it. Now go on home and take a rest. You deserve it."
Rory was at the door when she turned and asked, "What's the reporter's name?"
Gary didn't look up when he answered, "Tristan Dugrey. Apparently he's old money but still a good writer." He looked up when she squeaked in dismay. "Rory? Are you okay? You look sort of… pale."
Rory just shook her head and walked dazed to the elevator. She didn't even glance at the other passenger when she hit the button for the ground floor before leaning her head against the wall. There was no God so cruel, Rory thought, to have her work with Tristan Dugrey. Her self-pitying thoughts were interrupted when she felt someone staring at her. The other passenger hadn't taken his gaze of her since she'd stepped in.
"Can I help you?" she snapped, hoping the waspish tone would discourage the guy from staring. She only wanted to go home and wallow. It was a great thing she'd been glad her mother had taught her.
"Mary?" She opened her eyes and met the startled blue-eyed gaze of Tristan Dugrey. Apparently there was a God so cruel, but there was no way her day could get any worse.
Author's Note: Just so you know, Rory is mid-twenties and attended Yale. After the break-up with Logan, she started working for the Chronicle. A little hazy but, there you go. Let me know what you think!