She casts a falsely intrepid glance toward the couch and breathes a relaxed sigh when she realizes Alec is not there. He has to be asleep in the bedroom. She slumps onto the couch and leans back, shutting her eyes in welcome silence.
A brief reprieve.
The calm before the storm, obviously.
That is, until the sound of a child crying interrupts her. She looks to the crib in the living room, but Phillip is not asleep there. Confused as to where the child's crying is coming from, Farrah leaps to her feet and pushes the door to her bedroom open.
Alec is not in the bed, but his son is. The child, dressed in his blue sailor pajamas, rests on the bed crying. Farrah picks up Phillip, rocking him back and forth and patting him.
As she tries to get Phillip to calm down, she returns to the living room in bewilderment. Wondering where Alec is, and wondering what would have made him leave Phillip alone in the apartment. She can't even recall the last time he left the apartment...
"Where is your father, Phillip?" Farrah asks, nervously watching the front door. "Where's your daddy?"
"Bonsoir," Antoinette says, welcoming them into the office. "You are the two editors from..."
"Essence," Vanessa says quickly, making sure that Sean is going along with their ruse by giving him a quick wink. "We're here to interview Francois for our fall Europe issue."
"I find it... how do you say... awkward that a magazine popular for... the... color? But Obama is the president, so... oui!"
Vanessa resists the urge to roll her eyes and approaches the ongoing photo shoot, where Francois is feverishly snapping photographs of a topless model portraying a headless horseman.
"Francois!" Antoinette calls out, turning off the music. "Francois! Americans!"
"Oh, he is here!" Francois says, turning off his camera. "My favorite model, Trevor Brooks has arrived!"
"No, he is late again," Antoinette mutters, checking her watch with a mild irritation. "These are the reporters from Essence."
"Ebony," Sean corrects.
Vanessa elbows him in the ribs. "No, it's Essence. He was just... just joking. Francois, it is such a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, mademoiselle," Francois says. "My apologies for the frenzy, but it is Fashion Week in Paris! As you understand, no?"
"Oui," Vanessa says, nodding.
"You want to interview me?"
"It won't take long," Sean says, stepping forward to extend his hand. "But we'd be really interested in knowing about one of the models you've worked with in the past... since this is an African-American magazine. I believe his name is Marcus Vicman?"
What color there is in Francois' pale face quickly drains from it as he recoils his hand from Sean's. "This conversation is over. Je suis désolé."
EMERALD PLAZA HOTEL
THE EVENT SUITE
Blake Thomas is taken aback by the bluntness of Vincent Moore's comment. How could he tell that Blake has been raped by Aaron? Just by looking at him? Somehow, it makes Blake feel even worse. As if he wears a huge scarlet letter quilted to his flesh.
"So it's true, isn't it?" Vince demands, pressing his friend for an answer. "Aaron raped you."
"No... you're wrong," Blake says, shaking his head and turning away. He can't bear to look Vince in the face. He can't possibly face his friend with this badge of disgust painted on him.
"Look me in the goddamn eyes and tell me I'm wrong, Blake! He raped you, didn't he? You don't look like someone who's just done something wrong. If you were having an affair with Aaron... I'd know. You'd look like you'd enjoyed it, and it would piss me off," Vince insists. "But this... this makes me sick to my stomach in the most unimaginable way possible."
Unable to fight back his tears any longer, Blake sinks to his knees. He buries his face in his hands, still attempting to keep his façade as he sobs uncontrollably. Vince crouches next to his friend and hugs him tightly, resting his chin on Blake's shoulder.
"Stop it," Vince says. "Do you hear me? I want you to stop crying."
"I'm so disgusted with myself," Blake says. "I can't even look at you."
Vince takes Blake by the chin and forces his friend to look him in the eyes. "Yes you can. And you're going to look at Joel and tell him what happened too."
Vince digs into his pocket and removes his cell phone. He has the police detective's phone on speed dial, from those times long ago when he frequently abused the ignorance of the police department to meet his own ends. But their stupidity doesn’t matter today. They're the only ones who can help.
"Julia told me he's still doing consulting work for the department," Vince says. "So he should be at the station now."
"Vince, I can't face anyone," Blake snaps. "Not now!"
"Yes, you can," Vince says. "You think I'm going to let that bastard walk down the aisle today with a big grin on his face? Knowing what he did to you? Not a chance in hell."
Vince quickly presses Joel's number on his phone's speed dial. "I swear to God, today is going to be the last day Aaron Maddock ever hurts somebody I love."