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Akilah has always envisioned a perfect life for herself. So when things try to upset it, she has no interest in dwelling on them. Which is why today is such an irritating day to her. She has to deal with her life being turned upside down, all because someone stuck a scarf and a bag of coke into her purse a few weeks ago.
"This is ridiculous," Akilah says, ranting to her lawyer, Darren Reynolds. "None of this is my fault!"
"I need you to stop saying that," Darren whispers. "You need to show the judge that you're remorseful. Otherwise, you could be looking at jail time."
"Jail time?" Akilah demands. "You said you were going to get me out of this!"
"I said nothing of the sort..."
"This is stupid," Akilah says. "You're stupid. Where's my mother?"
"She's still not answering her phone," Robert Bale announces, sitting next to Vincent Moore on the bench directly behind the defendant's table. "I'm not sure what's going on. But I'm worried."
"If she was going to visit my father, then maybe she's still trying to convince him," Vince says. "For what reason, I have no idea. Did you try calling Yolanda?"
"She's not answering either," Robert says. "Maybe I should try..."
"All rise for the honorable Judge Sullivan," the bailiff announces.
As everyone rises to their feet, Akilah glumly stares off into the distance. Her one chance to get out of this was Matt Holden admitting that he'd stashed the coke in her purse. But now that he was in jail for attempting to bribe the judge presiding over her case... she was going to pass go and head directly to jail.
"Judge Sullivan, if I may have a word?"
Everyone in the courtroom is stunned by the sudden appearance of Michael Hanley. Robert stares directly at Michael, not welcoming his presence. Akilah and her brother follow suit, staring daggers at the man they'd once called their stepfather.
Judge Sullivan nods. "Let it be known that Michael Hanley, the defendant's former stepfather would like to speak on her behalf."
Michael steps forward, much to the bewilderment of everyone else in the room. He smiles, patting his hand on Robert's back. "Don't worry, Robert. I'll be taking care of this."
"Farrah...what's going on?"
She turns to find Alec is finally stirring from his nap on the couch. Apparently, he could sleep through a fire raging in the apartment from the way he managed to miss Vince showing up at the apartment and Phillip wailing for the past half hour.
"Nothing," Farrah says. "Phillip was just upset."
"Oh," Alec says, rubbing his fine. "Well, thanks for getting him to sleep. I think I'm gonna take a shower."
Farrah nods as Alec rips his shirt off and heads toward the bathroom. She plops down on the couch for a brief respite, when she hears a knock at the door.
"Not again," Farrah mutters.
As she gets up to answer the door, she is surprised to find not Vince or Kane, but Mrs. Lerner, the woman who lives across the hallway from her. She's quite possibly the nosiest woman Farrah has ever met.
"Ms. Farrah! I heard shouting in here!"
Farrah resists the urge to roll her eyes. Half an hour ago, you old bat.
"It was nothing, Mrs. Lerner," Farrah insists. "Just some television."
"Well, you know...one of them sounded black, so I had to come over as soon as I found my glasses."
"Nope, just watching some BET."
Mrs. Lerner furrows her brow. "Some what now?"
"A rerun of COPS," Farrah says quickly. "But you know, I really must go."
"Okay, dearie," Mrs. Lerner says. "You have a good night!"
Farrah closes the door, chuckling softly to herself at yet another encounter with Mrs. Lerner. She almost makes Farrah miss her grandmother. Almost.
But her amusement is quickly drained from her face when Alec slams the bathroom door shut to grab her attention. He glares at her while dripping wet and only a towel covering his waist.
"The TV doesn't even fucking work," Alec says. "So you want to tell me who the hell was in this apartment while I was asleep?"
EMERALD PLAZA HOTEL
Herald Robertson paces back and forth in his hotel suite, waiting for his cell phone to ring. It has been over an hour since he last spoke with the Depeche, the man he'd hired to take care of his daughter's problem. Frankly, Depeche hadn't been his first choice. But he was now living in Marquette Cove, far away from his connections in New Orleans.
Back in New Orleans, Herald had run most of the organized crime in and out of the French Quarter. Hurricane Katrina had actually been beneficial to him, it created a bigger demand for his brand of control. But his main priority has always been his daughter, Denise.
When her estranged husband, Alfonso Harris, did her wrong by raising his hand to her and avoiding his responsibilities as a father, Herald had him taken care of. And to be fair, he gave Sean plenty of chances to do the right thing and step up to the plate with his new son.
But Sean spent most of his time either chasing after his first wife or shacking up with that sassy bitch who lived down the hall in the hotel. And so, Herald made plans to eliminate both threats to Denise's happiness. That meant Sean Moore and Yolanda Holland needed to be taken care of.
The idiot Depeche screwed things up and got the wrong woman at the airport with Sean, so Herald made him double back and snatch Yolanda from the hotel. Sure, it meant that Sean would make it to France alive... but he won't be for long. And no one will miss Yolanda. Herald knows enough from Denise that the woman is persona non grata in Marquette Cove.
As Herald stares at his phone once more, about ready to dial Depeche himself, the door to the suite opens. Denise hurries inside, carrying a bundle of shopping bags from baby clothing stores. She tosses her key onto the table near the door and smiles at her father.
"Hi Pappa," Denise says, greeting him with a kiss.
"Hi honey," Herald says, lowering his phone. "How was shopping?"
"Tiring. This baby is getting heavier than Nathan ever did," Denise answers. "I'd swear it was twins if I hadn't seen the sonogram myself."
Herald opens his mouth to respond, but his cell phone rings. He raises a hand to excuse himself and quickly answers the phone. "Hello?"
"Ms. Holland is secure," Depeche says, coming in from the other end of the phone.
"Are you positive?"
"She's unconscious in the trunk. I'm pretty positive."
"Good," Herald says, lowering the phone and turning back to Denise. "This is business, I need to take it in my room."
"No, don't worry about it," Denise says, dismissing his suggestion with a wave of her hand. "I'm going to take a nap anyway."
"Sweet dreams, honey," Herald says, watching as his daughter goes to her room and shuts the door. His smile turns even wider as he raises the phone back to his face. "I don't want her killed yet. I want you to wait until we have Sean."
"I understand," Depeche says.
"But as soon as we have them both, I want them eliminated... and I don't want a single trace left."
AMERICAN AIRLINES FLIGHT 42
Sean Moore awakes with a start, nearly knocking over his glass of cranberry juice onto Vanessa Watson's lap. Vanessa removes her headphones, taking herself out of the episode of The Fashion Show she was watching on the television screen. He rubs his eyes and smiles weakly at her.
"What's wrong?" Vanessa asks.
"I just had the weirdest feeling," Sean says, staring out the window next to his seat. "Like someone just spit on my grave or something."
"I think the phrase is walked over your grave," Vanessa says. "What brought the feeling on?"
"I don't know... it was a weird mix of a chill running down my spine and a sense of déjà vu," Sean answers. "Like I've been on this flight before...or like I've been to France before."
"Maybe you have," Vanessa says. "You have about six years from your life gone because of Michael. And you told me that there are still pieces from your past before then that you don't remember."
Sean nods. "That's right."
"So maybe you have a fabulous apartment in France, or maybe you became an international art thief," Vanessa suggests.
"Or a mime," Sean chimes in.
"God, I hope not."
"Oh my God...it's you!"
Sean and Vanessa look up at the flight attendant who has stomped over to their seats. She has large, poofy blond hair, and smacks a large piece of bubblegum as she addresses them.
"I'm sorry...do I know you?" Sean asks.
"I was your flight attendant twenty years ago, when you were on your way to your honeymoon in France," the flight attendant says. "It was so romantic! I took a photo of you both, and I've kept it on my bedroom ceiling ever since!"
"Your bedroom ceiling?"
"Yes, so I wake up to the romance! You two are so beautiful, and so perfect and...wait, who is this bitch?"
"Excuse me?" Vanessa scoffs.
"You're not his wife!" the flight attendant snaps. "That's it...no complimentary snacks for you."
The flight attendant snatches up the peanuts from Vanessa's tray and stalks off. Vanessa and Sean watch her go, utterly dumbfounded.
"So...I guess I know why I'm getting the déjà vu," Sean says.
Vanessa frowns. "Is that French for psycho?"
MARQUETTE COVE COURTHOUSE
"That was humiliating," Akilah says, filing out of the courtroom behind her brother.
"Give it a rest, Joan of Arc," Vince mutters. "You got to skate by only getting community service."
"I'm gonna have to wear an orange jumpsuit!"
"I can't even talk to you," Vince says, storming away from his sister.
Akilah folds her arms, left alone in the hall with Robert, Darren, and Michael. She glances toward Michael, allowing her frown to dissipate momentarily. "Thank you, Michael."
"You're welcome, sweetie," Michael says, embracing Akilah.
Robert and Darren exchange disgusted looks.
"This is pathetic, Michael," Robert says. "Attempting to get into Leslie's good graces?"
"By helping her daughter get out of jail time? I'm sure she'll be grateful," Michael answers. "That is, if she'd even bothered to show up for her own daughter's hearing."
"Maybe she caught wind of you showing up," Robert offers. "I could see why she wouldn't want to be in the same room as the man suing her for custody of her unborn child. Never mind the fact that you've been having secret meetings with Judge Sullivan about the case."
Michael laughs. "Are you daft? I was meeting with Judge Sullivan about Akilah's case."
"Akilah, don't you see what he's trying to do to you?" Robert demands.
Akilah shrugs. "Whatever. I'm more worried about being stuck with Matt all summer. Picking up trash. Eww." She sashays out the building.
Robert turns to say something else to Michael, but Darren grabs his uncle by the arm and drags him off.
"Always a pleasure, Robert!" Michael calls after them.
"One of these days, he's gonna get his," Darren tells Robert. "Don't worry about it."
Robert glances back, a wry scowl on his face. "Maybe sooner than you think."
FARRAH LOUIS' APARTMENT
Billy could throttle the bitch.
He gave her exactly one thing to do. Keep his presence in Marquette Cove a secret. It seemed easy enough, what with her utter devotion to Alec Bale. But she's so stupid that it's nearly impossible for her to do anything right.
"It was...it was Vince," Farrah admits. "He stopped by."
"What in the hell?" Billy demands. "What was he doing here?"
"He wanted me to help him with something involving...involving Jessica," Farrah says.
Billy storms over to Farrah, grabbing her by the arms and pressing her against the wall. "Are you really that stupid? You let Vince come over here? Do you realize that he could recognize me and Phillip? What kind of a stupid bitch would let..."
"Stop it, Alec!" Farrah snaps, slapping Billy across the face. "Just...get the hell out! I'm tired of you treating me like crap day in and day out. I don't deserve it!"
Farrah pushes Billy away from her and storms over to the couch, grabbing his clothing and tossing it at him. She then picks up his laptop and throws it against the wall.
"Didn't you hear me?" Farrah demands. "Get the hell out of my apartment!"
She grabs at more of his things, this time catching hold of a large stack of papers. She raises them to her face for a moment, getting a glimpse at what's written on them.
"Divorce papers?"
"They're my divorce papers," Billy explains, clutching his towel. "My and Jessica's divorce. She signed them...they just need to be filed."
"Filed for what?" Farrah says, tossing them onto the couch.
"So I can get married to woman I love," Billy says, putting on the most sickeningly sweet impersonation of Alec that he can muster. Even though he hates saying these words with every fiber of his being.
Farrah's eyes light up. "Married?"
"In New Orleans, where Robert and Felicia had their honeymoon...where I was born," Billy answers.
"And who's this lucky woman?"
"It's you, silly," Billy says. "Where else did you think we were going to go when we leave this dead end town?"
Farrah, suddenly forgetting all her anger, rushes to Billy and hugs him. She kisses him frantically. "Oh, Alec! I'm so sorry! Of course I'll marry you!"
"That's wonderful," Billy says, kissing her.
He embraces Farrah and lets his towel drop to the floor, shoving the divorce papers from the couch as they sink to it . Once his divorce to Jessica is finalized, he'll be able to marry Farrah in New Orleans. At a nice, local chapel he researched. One that's conveniently located near the spot where he was born...
Where he and his brother were born.
His twin brother... Alec Bale.
