Chapter One: Houston We Have A Problem;

"So how long have you known you wanted to be a journalist?"

I look up from my glass of wine, wondering what he is talking about. My glass of wine is, literally, the only thing that is keeping me from standing up and walking out of the restaurant, leaving this man to have dinner by himself.

"Huh? Oh excuse me?"

He raised both of his eyebrows, like he'd been doing at me all night, each time making me angrier and angrier. My dating life was going down the drain by the minute, and all I could think about was going back and seeing him.

"How long have you known you wanted to be a journalist?"

I glare at the table. I can't believe he just snapped at me. I've had a terrible and long day at work, so excuse me for not paying full attention to anything you're saying. "Oh … sorry. Well always, I guess. I joined the school newspaper and I really loved it. And I've always been crazy about reading."

He nods and looks down at the table, our conversation dropping to nothing for the hundredth time tonight. This is why I keep missing out of when he talks – because I zone out for the time in between when he stops talking and I stay silent.

I brush a hand through my hair. I have to move. I reach down beside me and pick up my handbag from next to my chair, pulling it so it's on my lap. I stand, staggering slightly until my heels find their grip on the floor. "Could you excuse me for a moment? The bathroom is calling my name."

He doesn't hide the fact that he looks at my body first, making me shake on the inside, feeling totally and utterly creeped out, then he turns to my face. "Yeah. I expected you to say something like that."

With a look that tells him exactly what I'm thinking, I brush my skirt down again and move quickly towards the female toilets, which are located out the back, near the kitchens.

I stand there for a few moments, making sure there's nobody else in the bathroom before I grab my phone out of my bag, speed-dialling one of the two phone-number I know off by heart, both of who belongs to my mother.

She answers on the second ring, making me let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, not speaking while I listen to her ramble.

"Hi! This is Loralie and Rory! If you are Emily Gilmore, hang up now. If you are-"

"Mum, it's me." I say softly, trying to hold in the laugh that's threatening to escape my lips. I wonder if it's ever worked before … well since I was home. It never worked when I was still at home, and knowing Emily, it probably still didn't.

Emily had never been the dumbest cookie in the bunch. Well, she wasn't the smartest when she was drunk, but she was always the bitchiest.

"Oh, Rory! It's so nice to here your voice, babe."

I close my eyes and lean against the wall, despite how many germs must be surrounding me right now, I feel totally at ease. I haven't talked to mum for two days, which hurts like hell, and I'm once again reminded about how much I miss her. "I was thinking the same thing."

"So, how's the land down under, Kiddo? Tossed a shrimp on a barby yet?"

I hold in another laugh at her stupid, and failed, try at an Australian accent. "Mum."

I can tell from her voice that she's smiling. It's hard not to tell with mum. "Okay, but seriously, got many hot boys running around after you? Bet you've got a string of heart-broken, moustache-growing, singlet and shorty-short wearing guys running around after you, haven't you?"

I roll my eyes. My voice is more of a groan than anything else.

"Oh, come on, kiddo! Tell mummy everything!" she cooes into the phone.

I can't help the tears that spring to my eyes. I miss her. I miss her so bloody much. In the background, on her side of the line, I can hear the shower running and I instantly know that Luke has really moved in. It just dawns on me completely. "Er … well I'm kind of on a date right now."

"What are you doing? Hiding in the bathroom?" she jokes, showing me she's disbelieving everything I've just said.

I lick my lips, she knows me too well. "Yes?"

She pauses for a moment before her 'mummy' stage cuts in. "Than why are you calling me?! Don't get me wrong, kid, I love the fact that you've called,"

"Sounds like it." I murmur sarcastically under my breath, but she chooses to ignore me and carry on, as if I haven't said anything.

"But I want you to be happy, and if that means ditching mummy for a date, than that's what you've got to do. How's the date going, by the way?"

I scratch my thumb with my nails, a nervous habit I've gotten from my work career. "Actually it's not going so great. He's kind of-"

"A bastard? Ugly? A gangster who broke out of prison just to steal your heart? I mean, that's romantic-"

"Mum!" I whine. She's gotten carried away once again. "He's just … dull! I've never met someone so bloody dull! Someone who I can't keep a conversation with."

She pauses for a moment, "How long has your longest conversation been?"

I think hard. "About a minute."

"Abort! Abort! Abort! Houston we have a problem! Abort! Abort! Abort!" she declares.

In the background, the shower stops and I can hear footsteps on the tiles, that are white and I can see in my head.

"I can't. I don't want to be rude!" I whisper into the phone, blinking in alarm.

The sound of her licking her lips through the phone is obvious, and I can hear the bathroom door open. "Well how long have you been in the bathroom?"

"How long have we been talking?" I shoot back. Slowly I stand straight on my feet again, running a hand through my brown curls that now reach my ribs as I look at myself in the mirror.

"It's been twenty-minutes, Kiddo. I think it's time you go back and face your gangster."

"Is that Rory?" Luke!

"Yes," mum shoots back.

"Hey Rory! I miss you, darling."

"Tell him I miss him, too." I sigh, the thought of being home sounding more and more appealing with each passing second. "I have to go."

"I know." she replies.

The two words she's said say so much more and we stay silent for a minute, neither of us hearing anything but the other one breathing over the line.

"When will we see you?" I can't help but hear the hope in her voice and my stomach drops.

I try to think of a time, but I know what I have to say. Because the truth is, I won't be free for the next few months. "I don't know, mum. I have to-"

"Work." she sighs. "I know."

We cross another silence, while another minute passes.

"Hey, Rory?" she says softly. "I love you."

My voice is equally as soft as hers, proving how much I do. "I love you too, Mummy."

"Miss you."

"Miss you more."

I hang up before I finish the last word.

It's ridiculous how hard it is to be away from my mother, but I can't help myself. Tears form in my eyes and I lean on the sink, taking a few deep breaths to steady myself before I grab my handbag and return back to the table.

He looks up, draining his glass of red wine and blinks, as if checking if I'm really there. "Sorry for taking so long, Jess, I had to make a call."

He looks up at me, a frown forming on his lips, while I take my seat. "It's John."

You already told me that! I think in my head but I purse my lips and raise my eyebrows, like every good date should. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head, as if he's fed up, and the truth is, I don't blame him. "You called me Jess, it's John."

I stiffen slightly. How could I have called him Jess. I don't even have feelings for Jess any more, do I? I want to say "no" but I know the answer is really "yes". The truth is, I never really got over my feelings for Jess. He was the love of my life. Or, the second love-of-my-life, or so I thought when I was younger. I was convinced Dean was the love of my life at one point. But than along came Jess, a bad-boy who made me fall head-over-heels in love with him. The only boy who'd ever left me … multiple times. The only boy, I know I'd forever have some form of feelings for.

"You know, you seem kinda distracted. I have a big day tomorrow and it's late," as he began the 'I'm-leaving-you-but-making-it-seem-like-I-have-something-to-do' speech, my eyes travelled over to the clock on the wall behind his head. Yes, 8:20pm, how ridiculously late!

I zone back in for the, "so I should go".

I nod and blink, not looking at him until I've finished saying the words. It's not something I mean, and the tone of my voice shows it, but I've been taught not to be impolite, so I'm going to forget my manners. "It was nice to meet you."

He rolls his eyes as he stand up. "Yes, nice. And don't worry, I put the food on my tab."

I shoot him the best "thank you" smile I can muster up and wait until he's walked out of the double doors before I stand from my seat and walk over to the bar, taking a seat.

The bartender, a twenty-something-year old man with a red mohawk, a pair of faded jeans with a chain and a black shirt, looks me up and down with an appreciative smile before he asks me what I want.

"Is my friends tab still open?" I ask, batting my eyelashes.

I have to do this before I run out of game and back away from my idea. He nods his head slowly. He's not stupid and he knows exactly what's going on, but he doesn't say anything and he doesn't call the cops, or security on me. I appreciate this man, it's nice to have a stranger who doesn't want to stab me in the back.

"Can I please have two bottles of wine? One red and on white would suffice."

He put them on the bar in front of me. "And this is going on Mr. Jason's tab?"

Josh Jason? He never told me that was his name. Wait- was his name even Josh? I can't even remember what we'd been talking about, or what he looked like. "Yes, thank you."

I grab the bottles of wine and stand to my feet, this time not staggering at all, completely confident and happy.

"Hey!"

I turn around after my few steps away from him and blink. "Yes?"

His words are careful, as if he's been thinking about them for a while, and this isn't just a spur of the moment thing. "I'm sure he knows, you're putting those on his tabs. But I'm just warning, stranger-to-stranger, he's pretty tight about his cash. I wouldn't know why, since he's practically a millionaire, but he'll come after you."

I smile at him. "Don't worry about it – I leave in two days to go to England."

He doesn't pause for a moment. "Well, that's a shame. I was going to ask if I could take you out."

A smile passes over my lips. "How about we make a deal …"