your restaurant. Yes, my
dear, you need me."
Farrah looked around the restaurant. There were no
customers. She wasn't used to her restaurant being quiet and not having
customers chit-chatting or cooks calling out orders.
"We can talk in my office," Farrah said, leading
the way. "Who sent you, and why are you here?"
"Picture me as your fairy godfather, hired by your
lover to make this situation a little easier for you to manage."
"What are you going to do, snap your fingers and make
all this go away?"
"I don't have that special power, but I do have the
power to spin this into our favor, Farrah. In case you haven't been paying
attention to the news and blogs, Austin McBride and his fiancée are telling
their side of the story. They have been portraying you as a manipulative,
greedy bitch."
Farrah couldn't deny that every last word stung her to the
core. It was just like her mother used to tell her: what makes you cry only
makes you stronger. "Are you sure Austin is saying this?"
"Farrah, you're a grown woman who spread her legs to a
man who was spoken for. Tell me, didn't you see any wrong in that?"
Farrah sat in her chair and sipped her tea. She didn't need
anyone to tell her that her actions and judgments regarding Austin were poor.
She had never had a relationship with a man who had a girlfriend. She was
always one of those women who believed in karma; you reaped what you sowed. Was
Farrah now destined to be a cheater or the one cheated on?
"Your silence is telling me that you saw something
wrong with having an affair with Austin."
"I don't want to talk about the past." Farrah
stood up. "I just want my life to go back to normal."
"Normal is not going to happen anytime soon for
you." Travis looked at Farrah with pity in his green eyes.
"These bloggers and reporters are like a pack of
wolves. They will dig into your past to use anything and everything against
you."
"I have nothing to hide." Farrah folded her arms.
"Really? Not even your momma and your daddy and not to
mention that police report on your ex, Frederick Wright?"
The room felt like it was caving in on her. Farrah stood
up, her breathing becoming heavy as she tried to get some air. Her heart felt
as if someone were squeezing it.
"You're having a panic attack." Travis left the
room to get Farrah a glass of cold water. "Here, take a sip."
"Thank you." Farrah took a swig of the cold water
and tried to calm down.
"Farrah, McBride and his camp want you to sign a
confidentiality agreement stating you will not talk about the affair. This is
not up for debate."
Farrah watched as Travis opened his briefcase and pulled
out a file containing the agreement she was supposed to sign.
"His camp is offering us five million dollars for you
not to talk about the affair." He handed an ink pen to Farrah.
"I don't want the money." Farrah stood and
grabbed the desk when a wave of nausea hit her.
"What do you want?" Travis asked.
"To be left alone. He sent you to help me." She
shook her head. "Leave! I'll sign the damn paper, but tell him to keep his
money."
Farrah scribbled her name on the paper. Travis packed up
his belongings and left Farrah with her thoughts.
After closing the restaurant, Farrah went home. She prepared
herself a small dinner and soaked her achy body in the tub. Drinking a bottle
of wine seemed to make all her troubles disappear for the moment, until the
telephone rang.
"Hi, Nana." Farrah tried to sound cheerful.
"What is going on, Farrah? Are you sleeping with a
married white man?"
"Excuse me?" Farrah wasn't sure she'd heard her
grandmother correctly.
"I didn't raise you to be sleeping around with no damn
married man!"
"Nana!" Farrah pinched the bridge of her nose to
keep her emotions and herself under control.
"You should have stayed with Frederick."
Farrah laughed. "You want to me stay with the man who
was beating my body and mind. You want me to stay with the man who broke my
ribs and busted my lips. I get it, Nana—you want me to
dear, you need me."
Farrah looked around the restaurant. There were no
customers. She wasn't used to her restaurant being quiet and not having
customers chit-chatting or cooks calling out orders.
"We can talk in my office," Farrah said, leading
the way. "Who sent you, and why are you here?"
"Picture me as your fairy godfather, hired by your
lover to make this situation a little easier for you to manage."
"What are you going to do, snap your fingers and make
all this go away?"
"I don't have that special power, but I do have the
power to spin this into our favor, Farrah. In case you haven't been paying
attention to the news and blogs, Austin McBride and his fiancée are telling
their side of the story. They have been portraying you as a manipulative,
greedy bitch."
Farrah couldn't deny that every last word stung her to the
core. It was just like her mother used to tell her: what makes you cry only
makes you stronger. "Are you sure Austin is saying this?"
"Farrah, you're a grown woman who spread her legs to a
man who was spoken for. Tell me, didn't you see any wrong in that?"
Farrah sat in her chair and sipped her tea. She didn't need
anyone to tell her that her actions and judgments regarding Austin were poor.
She had never had a relationship with a man who had a girlfriend. She was
always one of those women who believed in karma; you reaped what you sowed. Was
Farrah now destined to be a cheater or the one cheated on?
"Your silence is telling me that you saw something
wrong with having an affair with Austin."
"I don't want to talk about the past." Farrah
stood up. "I just want my life to go back to normal."
"Normal is not going to happen anytime soon for
you." Travis looked at Farrah with pity in his green eyes.
"These bloggers and reporters are like a pack of
wolves. They will dig into your past to use anything and everything against
you."
"I have nothing to hide." Farrah folded her arms.
"Really? Not even your momma and your daddy and not to
mention that police report on your ex, Frederick Wright?"
The room felt like it was caving in on her. Farrah stood
up, her breathing becoming heavy as she tried to get some air. Her heart felt
as if someone were squeezing it.
"You're having a panic attack." Travis left the
room to get Farrah a glass of cold water. "Here, take a sip."
"Thank you." Farrah took a swig of the cold water
and tried to calm down.
"Farrah, McBride and his camp want you to sign a
confidentiality agreement stating you will not talk about the affair. This is
not up for debate."
Farrah watched as Travis opened his briefcase and pulled
out a file containing the agreement she was supposed to sign.
"His camp is offering us five million dollars for you
not to talk about the affair." He handed an ink pen to Farrah.
"I don't want the money." Farrah stood and
grabbed the desk when a wave of nausea hit her.
"What do you want?" Travis asked.
"To be left alone. He sent you to help me." She
shook her head. "Leave! I'll sign the damn paper, but tell him to keep his
money."
Farrah scribbled her name on the paper. Travis packed up
his belongings and left Farrah with her thoughts.
After closing the restaurant, Farrah went home. She prepared
herself a small dinner and soaked her achy body in the tub. Drinking a bottle
of wine seemed to make all her troubles disappear for the moment, until the
telephone rang.
"Hi, Nana." Farrah tried to sound cheerful.
"What is going on, Farrah? Are you sleeping with a
married white man?"
"Excuse me?" Farrah wasn't sure she'd heard her
grandmother correctly.
"I didn't raise you to be sleeping around with no damn
married man!"
"Nana!" Farrah pinched the bridge of her nose to
keep her emotions and herself under control.
"You should have stayed with Frederick."
Farrah laughed. "You want to me stay with the man who
was beating my body and mind. You want me to stay with the man who broke my
ribs and busted my lips. I get it, Nana—you want me to
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