Previously:

Giselle called a meeting to discuss her plans for the Highwind. She resolved to take a step back from the business, looking to bring on some new employees to cover the slack.

Charlie refused to believe Sonya when she first told him that Erin who was responsible for the attack on her.

Josie and Miles became friends when he began working at the club. When she caught him checking out Remy, Josie asked him if he was gay. Miles avoided a direct answer, but assured her that Remy was only a friend.

Giselle received a threatening letter that was delivered to the Highwind.

 

The Highwind

"Good morning!" Giselle called, blustering down the hall in a pastel pink blouse under a charcoal jacket and matching pants. She carried a hefty briefcase and several thick portfolios, blowing past Elena on the way to her office. Papers billowed in her wake, and Elena snatched them up, chasing after Giselle.

"You dropped these." Elena handed off the documents, as Giselle settled in.

"Thank you, Elena." Giselle took a seat and distractedly thumbed through a portfolio. She hated being late, but it was already shaping up to be a hectic morning for her. "I know I shouldn't have kept you waiting, but I'm here now."

"Is that new?" Elena asked, plopping across the desk from Giselle to examine her attire. "I don't think I've seen you wear that jacket before."

"Yes. It is," Giselle said without looking up.

"Are you ... all right?"

Giselle met her eyes, setting the folder neatly in front of her. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem ... agitated, or something."

"We've got a busy day ahead of us, as I'm sure you're well aware. The interviews -- or have you forgotten?" Giselle asked.

"Ahh, so that's why you're busting out the new wardrobe. I see now."

Today, Giselle and Elena were set to conduct several interviews with potential candidates for the new staff positions Giselle was creating. But Elena wondered if, perhaps, something else could be to blame for Giselle's ruffled feathers.

"Any news on ... you know?" Elena asked, lowering her voice even though the two of them were quite alone.

A week had passed since they read the threatening note Giselle had received. Elena had urged Giselle to go to the police, but, after her initial shock wore off, Giselle was steadfast in her belief that it was nothing to be concerned about.

"No," Giselle said, sighing. "No more threats. I told you not to take it so seriously."

But Elena knew a part of Giselle must be scared. Before Giselle went into denial over the entire situation, she had been truly frightened. Elena remembered her vivid fear that afternoon.

"I don't see how you can be so nonchalant over this. Someone threatened to 'destroy your life,' or whatever..."

"And yet, my life remains perfectly intact. Sometimes a threat is just a threat."

"Until it's acted upon," Elena said somberly.

"Don't be such a fatalist," Giselle said. "Just drop it. It's not worth my concern. It's probably some idiotic ploy of Vincent's anyway. He's been following Liam and me all over town from the moment I returned to St. Laurent, spouting his jealous rants. I'm sure he thinks something like this threat of his will scare me away from Liam or force me into hiding, but it won't work. Vincent won't be bothering me anymore. I won't give him the satisfaction."

"But what if it isn't Vincent?" Elena suggested, finding it hard to believe that Vincent -- or anyone, really -- would go to all that trouble over Giselle.

Giselle dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. "I don't believe that, and I don't have time to think about it now, anyway."

She stood from her desk, collecting the portfolio at the top of the stack. "We've got an interview candidate in wait. Are you ready?"

 

Sonya Cortes's House

Why is this so hard, Charlie Guthrie wondered, as he walked up the driveway from where he parked at the edge of the street. Despite his internal resistance, he forced himself to Sonya's doorstep.

It's so hard because you were such a bastard. You don't deserve to be forgiven. You treated her like dirt, he reminded himself, his guilt killing whatever courage might have been welling up inside of him.

Sonya was the one who told him the truth about Erin. She was the only one who saw, firsthand, just how sick his wife had become. The only one who saw it and survived, at least... Charlie had been too hurt then, too bullheaded at the time to believe what she was trying to tell him about Erin. So he refused to listen and took his anger out on her instead, branding her a sick, pathological liar. Not exactly the best way to keep a loyal friend...

But after his talk with Martine about moving on, Charlie held out hope that he could make amends with Sonya. Even if she slapped him in the face, he had to admit to her that he was wrong.

He discovered his finger was on the doorbell, signaling his arrival before he had time to find the words he needed to say. No turning back now. However this turned out, he hoped Martine was right. He hoped he'd feel some comfort in making up for his behavior.

"Charlie." Sonya opened the door to him with some caution.

"I'm sorry, I know I should have called first or something," he said, pained by the uncertainty he recognized in her. The last time they'd spoken to each other was Charlie's tirade against her while she was in recovery at the hospital.

"No! Come in," Sonya said, backing away from the open door as he stepped inside. "I've missed you. How have you been?"

Was she serious? "How have I been? I've been a selfish ass. I should be the one asking about you. I have so much I need to say to you. There's so much I have to apologize for. The way I treated you at the hospital--"

"You don't have to apologize for anything, Charlie. I understood then, and I understand now. I never held any of that against you."

"But you didn't deserve it. After everything you tried to do -- everything you did to help my family and to help Erin -- you were the last person I should have been blaming."

Charlie hoped hearing the words gave her some peace, even if she claimed not to have held his outburst against him.

"Well, I accept your apology. I just wish none of this had to have happened at all. I wish we could have stopped everything from getting so out of control the way it did, before anyone was hurt."

Charlie felt the sting of tears, hating himself for what Erin had done. Hating himself for not being able to stop her...

"I'm so sorry for everything you've been through because of us."

"I'm not the only person who's been hurt here," Sonya said, taking his hand. "It's okay for you to be upset. Your wife's missing. Your daughter ... I understand why you couldn't cope with that. Who could?"

"I'm going to find them," Charlie vowed, though he wondered how he would feel if he actually did find Erin. His emotions had run the gamut from loving her to missing her to hating her, over and over again since her disappearance. What would he do if he found out where she was hiding?

 

The Bistro

Later that morning, Josie Singer was grabbing a cup of coffee at the lakeside bistro. She sat across the table from her newest pal, Miles, who was digging into a fresh-made breakfast sandwich. The two of them had to head into work at the Bel Ami Club soon.

"Are you almost done? We have to get going," Josie said, looking to the clock over the counter.

"Nobody's coming to the bar at ten in the morning," Miles reasoned, his mouth full of food.

She knew he was right, but Josie had become a bit paranoid about taking her job seriously lately. Since Remy was spending more and more time at the X-Limit, he'd promoted her to a supervisory role.

"I just don't want Remy to think he made a mistake by giving me that raise."

"You really care what he thinks of you, don't you?" Miles finished his sandwich and wiped his hands.

"I care about my job," she clarified.

"Because it's always been your lifelong dream to pour drinks, I'm sure."

"Just because it's not my dream job doesn't mean I shouldn't be a responsible employee, dumbass." She gave an embarrassed grin. "Besides, my dream is to have other people pour the drinks for me."

"A professional alcoholic?" he grinned.

"I prefer ... socialite," she said, realizing how stupid it sounded. "Or at least to have my own club, or business, or something." She blushed a little. She'd never really thought much about her future, and talking about it was embarrassing given her current dead-end job.

"Maybe college would be a good start for that," he suggested.

"Maybe," she agreed. She often regretted not going to college right away, but she'd never had the best grades and with her mom divorcing Vincent, there was no way they could afford it now. "Did you go to school?" she asked him.

"Uhh, no. Not really. I dropped out after a semester."

"Hypocrite," Josie muttered, taking a drink of her coffee.

"You ready to go?" Miles asked.

She nodded. "What are you doing after work tonight? I haven't been out in ages. Roddy's always playing his stupid Xbox with his friends..."

"You want to go out -- with me?"

"I'm not asking you to date me, just go someplace and have some fun, maybe?"

"Sure," Miles said with a shrug.

"Yay!" she gave a little cheer and latched onto his arm.

The two of them strolled out of the bistro together, but as soon as they were out the door, Josie saw Roddy and his friend Adam approaching.

Josie dropped Miles's arm and waved to Roddy. "Hey, baby!"

She went to greet him, but Roddy brushed right past her, grabbing Miles by the collar. "Who do you think you are?" he snarled.

 

The Highwind

"Thank you for your interest," Elena Halstrom said coolly, leading a potential job applicant out of the meeting room. "We'll get back to you soon." She closed the door on the bald little man, her tight smile vanishing the second he was out of her sight. "So?"

Giselle promptly shredded his 'résumé' (calling it a résumé was being generous, given his utter lack of experience) between her fingers.

"Good," Elena nodded. "I feel the same."

"He was better than the woman who smelled like kitty litter and old cheese. Barely..."

"I thought someone was supposed to be pre-screening these people for us," Elena moaned in exasperation. "So who's the next contestant?"

Giselle lifted the phone and dialed the desk. "Send Scarlet Deshpande in, please."

A moment later, a striking Indian-American woman entered the office. She was impeccably dressed, her smiling features open and friendly. She was vibrant, younger than the past few applicants. A far cry from the paunchy old guy and the lady in the self-crocheted, yarn-and-cat-hair sweater they'd just had the pleasure of meeting.

Elena hoped the interview would live up to her first impression of this woman.

"Scarlet Deshpande." She introduced herself with a warm smile, giving them each a professional handshake.

"As you know, we're looking for a new Guest Relations Director here at the Highwind," Giselle began once the introductions had been made. "Tell us a bit about yourself, and why you think you are the right person for the job."

Scarlet was well-prepared for the general question and answer session. She gave a brief summary of her college education at Dartmouth, her employment history, "... and I've just returned to the area after spending four years in California."

"You worked at the Hotel Terranova in Hollywood?" Giselle asked, raising an impressed eyebrow as she sifted through Scarlet's résumé.

"Up until just recently," Scarlet said.

"But it seems so glamorous," Elena said, more than a little jealous of Scarlet's experience. "Why would you ever leave?"

"It could be glamorous at times. It was Hollywood, after all," she said. "But it was also a very high-stress environment. I've dealt with my fair share of demanding guests, but the key is to never let your frustrations show and to always give your patrons the best you have to offer. Of course there have been incidents, but every hotel and resort has to deal with that sort of thing at some point or another."

"So you left because your job was too hard?" Giselle probed, turning up the heat. "You know, working at the Highwind is no walk in the park. We may not have as many celebrities milling about, but our guests have still come to expect only the top-most in quality from us."

"That's not what I meant at all," Scarlet said, standing up for herself. "I didn't leave because it was too stressful or challenging. The only reason I left was to be closer to my family. It's been hard living so far away from them."

"I see," Giselle conceded. "Well, it certainly looks as though your experience is above and beyond our expectations."

"I think you're great," Elena gushed, thrilled with this woman after the last two trainwrecks. "But, if I'm being honest, it's not the easiest time to be coming onboard. We're undergoing quite a few ... changes, at the moment."

"Elena," Giselle started to warn.

Elena threw up her hands. "It's only fair to let her know what she'd be getting herself into!"

"No, I understand," Scarlet said, defusing the situation. "This business is constantly evolving. No two days were ever the same at Hotel Terranova, either," Scarlet said. "You have to be flexible, and sometimes you have to compromise. I'm not naive enough to think everything will always be perfect here, or anywhere for that matter. And I'm capable of dealing with issues that might arise when they aren't."

Giselle gave a cordial smile, but Elena was already sold. The interview concluded, and Elena showed Scarlet to the door. "Good luck," she said. "We'll be in touch."

Once Scarlet left, Elena whipped around to Giselle. "We're hiring her, right?" There was no doubt in Elena's mind from the moment Scarlet entered the room.

"She's a bit younger than I envisioned when I first read over her résumé."

"Age is just a number. Experience speaks for itself."

"Perhaps," Giselle said, coming around. "I sincerely doubt we'll see anyone who even compares."

"So you'll hire her?" Elena asked excitedly, like a child talking her mother into an early birthday present.

"I'll check her references, and we'll take it from there," Giselle decided.

 

Sonya's House

A short time later, Charlie and Sonya were continuing their conversation over lunch in the kitchen.

"This is amazing," he said after his first bite.

"My mom's famous blackbean chorizo chili recipe." Sonya ate some for herself. "I made a huge batch of it last night. Hope you like it hot!"

"I've missed this," Charlie said, leaning back in his chair as he savored the enticing cuisine. "You make the best Mexican food in town."

"That's because I'm the best Mexican in town," Sonya cracked. "Not that that's saying much in St. Laurent..."

"Well, I can't disagree with that," Charlie smiled. He felt so much better now that he and Sonya had cleared the air. Their friendship felt like it always had. Like nothing had changed despite his outburst. He knew how lucky he was to have such an understanding, forgiving friend like Sonya.

"Charlie, there's something I've been thinking about since you showed up," Sonya started.

Charlie looked up at her curiously. "What is it? You can tell me anything," he said. Picking up on her wariness, he added, "And I promise in advance not to flip out on you this time."

Sonya stirred her chili for a few moments, then continued, "I want to help you. I'm not sure exactly how to go about doing that or what it will entail, but if you let me, I'd like to help you find Erin and Summer."

Charlie didn't know how to respond. He didn't anticipate that she'd want to talk about Erin or be reminded of all she had been through because of his wife. "Sonya, I don't know..."

"There has to be a way to track them. Don't you want to know where they are? I think I could help."

"Of course I want to know," Charlie said, having to watch himself carefully to avoid snapping at her. It wasn't that he was mad at her, it was just that he was still trying so hard to contain his anger at the entire situation. Everyday was a struggle to keep it bottled inside. "You've done so much for me already, Sonya. All the times you've gone out of your way to help me. To help Erin, even. I just don't want to see you get hurt again because of me."

"And I don't want you to keep hurting every day. None of us will ever be able to get past this until we know the truth."

"Maybe some things are best left alone."

Sonya leaned forward to look him in the eye. "I don't think you truly believe that. I know I don't, and no matter how you feel about Erin right now, I know you want Summer back, no matter what it takes."

Charlie bowed his head, knowing she was right in her claims. "What will happen to her? If we find her, that is..."

"I don't know," Sonya said honestly. "But she will get the help she needs, and Summer will be back home with someone who is capable of taking care of her. Of course that's what you want. That what you need."

Charlie nodded. It was all he could think about since the moment they vanished from his life. "If I had any idea where to begin, I would have been looking. I don't know what we can do. The police found her car parked at a bus station. Her cell phone was recovered, too. There's no way to track her. She could be anywhere by now."

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy," Sonya said. "But if I can find just one clue or one solid lead, I will hunt them down."

Charlie felt her fire catch with something inside of himself. His resolve was strengthening. If anyone could help him with this, it was Sonya.

"We can do this, Charlie. And I just had an idea of where to begin."

 

The Bistro - Outside

"Who do you think you are?" Roddy Wallace held Miles by the collar, daring him to answer.

"Whoa buddy! I don't know what you think is going on..." Miles sputtered.

"Roddy, stop!" Josie commanded. She pulled him away from Miles and stepped in between them both.

"Who is this guy?" Roddy asked her.

"Let me guess ... the gallant boyfriend?" Miles smart-alecked.

The fire in Roddy's eyes was refueled and he went after Miles for a second time, shoving him backward. Josie threw herself into her boyfriend before he could throw a punch.

"Will you stop this?" Josie was annoyed by the way Roddy always had to pick a fight. He was always so quick to jump the gun, so quick to think the worst in every situation. "Miles is just a friend, and you need to chill the fuck out," she spat.

"I'm sorry," Miles held up his hands in apology, clearly frightened by Roddy's temper.

Roddy backed off, but he didn't soften toward either of them. "I didn't know..."

"Because you never think to ask! You never think at all," she clarified, her own temper ignited now. "Miles just started working at the club. We've been hanging out. And he's gay, so you don't have anything to worry about," she added sarcastically.

She shot a quick look to Miles, but his eyes were at his feet as he tried to stay out of the argument.

"Whatever," Roddy said. It was his version of an apology, his way of acknowledging he was in the wrong. The fight in him fizzled. Roddy's friend, Adam, wore a stupid smile as he took it all in. Josie knew all Roddy's friends thought he was whipped now that he was with her, but she didn't care. She refused to date a total asshole, which Roddy all-too-often threatened to become if she didn't keep him in check. "Adam and I are going to see Tyler's band play at Civilization tonight. You coming?"

Watching some crappy, wannabe metal band was the last thing Josie wanted to do, especially after the way Roddy was acting. "I already have plans with Miles," she said, remembering their earlier discussion. Sure, Miles had never technically agreed to their plans, but it was a good excuse, no less.

"Fine," Roddy said, barely concealing his frustration, but knowing better than to press the issue. She had to admit, he was getting better at learning how to deal with her. It would have made her smile if he wasn't standing right there.

Roddy and Adam took off, and Josie gave Miles a sheepish grin. "Sorry you had to end up in the middle of all that."

"Oh, it's no biggie. I loved getting roughed up by your violent, 'roid-monkey boyfriend," Miles snapped. "Ok, that didn't come out like I intended..."

"I know Roddy can be a little ... Cro-Magnon at times, but he's not that bad usually. Just watch. He'll call me in five minutes to make sure we're not still fighting or that I didn't 'break up' with him."

"Sounds like a healthy relationship you've got yourself there."

He walked away from her and down the street toward the club. They had to be to work soon, but Josie frowned, detecting a bitter undercurrent. She caught up to him. "I said I was sorry..."

"I know," Miles said, letting it go. "I'm not that upset about it, really."

"Then what?" she asked with concern.

"Something else. I don't know. When you told them I was gay ... it was just weird for me to hear." Miles didn't seem to know what he was trying to say.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry," Josie said. "You're not really 'out' yet, are you? Is that it?" She attempted to understand, and hoped he wasn't too offended.

"I don't even know what I am anymore, Josie," he said sadly, stopping to look at her like he was searching for the answer in her eyes. "I've never identified myself that way, but I've never really sat and thought too hard about it, you know? Maybe I've avoided thinking about it..."

"Maybe. You might not have faced it, and you may not have explored it yet, but I'm sure there's a part of you that knows." She studied his too-serious face, wishing she had an easy answer for him -- and a light flashed on in her mind. "Maybe tonight we should go out, like I told Roddy we were. Maybe tonight's the night to do a little exploring."

 

The Highwind

After the relative success of their interview with Scarlet Deshpande, Giselle didn't feel quite as much dread carrying into her next meeting. This time, they were searching for someone to fill the new role as the Highwind's PR Coordinator. Giselle was looking to the future, to targeting new investors and opportunities, and it was imperative that the Highwind's identity was represented by someone with a strong vision compatible with her own.

"I'm Elena Halstrom, and this is Giselle Ormand," Elena said, greeting their next candidate at the door and showing him into the office.

"Paul Schultz," the man said, offering them both his hand.

Giselle normally trusted her first instincts and tried to get a read on him. Paul was a handsome man, for sure, his expression serious and business-like. He was on the shorter side but exuded a quiet confidence in himself.

Elena looked over his résumé, while Paul elaborated on the various qualifications and prior work experiences Elena mentioned.

Both women seemed impressed, but the interview was cut short when the door to the office flew open hard enough to slam against the wall.

"Let go of me!" Vincent Guthrie said, barging into the room while Giselle's secretary attempted to drag him back out the door. He ripped his arm from her grasp, and stalked toward Giselle and Elena. Paul Schultz jumped up from his seat and backed away, floored by the interruption and wanting no part of it.

"Vincent, why are you here?" Giselle just sighed, shaking her head at him.

Elena narrowed her eyes at him. "We were kind of in the middle of something."

Vincent ignored her and slammed some papers against the desk. "What is the meaning of this?" he growled at Giselle.

Giselle picked up the papers, thumbing through them deliberately. "Well, I'm no lawyer, but it appears to be a restraining order, if I'm not mistaken..."

"Is this your idea of a joke?"

"Oh no, Vincent. I'm quite serious." She held the papers out to him. "You've been stalking me and hounding me all over this town, and I know you were behind that little stunt the other day..."

"What little stunt?" he said, puzzled.

"The threat that was delivered to my office. Don't play dumb," she said icily. "But it ends now." Vincent gave her a wounded look, but she was having none of it. She knew a restraining order was the perfect way to get him off her back and to make her point in the process. She was finished with him.

"If you don't leave my office immediately, I'll be forced to show you exactly how these papers work ... or maybe the police department could do a better job of explaining it to you."

Vincent snatched the restraining order back from her hands and promptly tore it to shreds.

"I'm sorry, but ripping it apart doesn't render it ineffectual. That's not how it works."

He seethed and sizzled before her eyes, and it took all Giselle had to remain stone-faced and stoic with him and not burst out in laughter.

"This isn't done," Vincent warned, sulking out of the office.

Once he had left, Giselle remembered what she was doing before her rude ex-husband derailed things. "Well, that was awkward." She gave Paul an apologetic look.

"Nothing like a good smackdown to break the ice," Elena said, amused. "Unfortunately, this sort of thing isn't that unusual of late."

Giselle ignored her. She motioned to the chair across from her, and Paul reluctantly returned to his place at the desk. "Now where were we?" she asked with a sweet smile.