Previously...
- Tim and Vision Publishing began to shop Alex and Liam's screenplay--adapted from Alex's first novel--to film producers and studios. 
- Molly found out that Philip had lied about crashing the car into her house in order to cover for Spencer. She called off their wedding, fearing that she could no longer trust him.
- A heartbroken Philip told Spencer and Claire that he was going to spend the holidays traveling in order to clear his head.

PHILIP RAGAN'S LOFT

The buzz of the electric razor fills the bathroom. Spencer Ragan runs the razor over his stubble, figuring that it looks neat enough to get one more day out of it before he has to shave cleanly to be appropriate for work. He glances down at his phone, which sits atop the soapstone counter, and his heart rate quickens when he notices the time. As he drags the razor over his throat, he feels it snag for only a millisecond on his skin.

"Shit," he mutters, already knowing what this means.

He switches off the razor and tears off a square of toilet paper from the nearby roll. Sure enough, within seconds, a red spot has emerged on his throat. He sticks a tiny piece of the toilet paper on stand evaluates the rest of his shave. It will have to do for today.

He is watching the red seep through the thin paper when he hears something alarming: the sound of the loft door sliding open. 

"Hello?" he calls out. The question hangs in the air for what feels like far too long.

"Good morning," comes the response, in a voice that is all too familiar. Spencer grabs the square of toilet paper off the counter and hurries out. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?" he asks as he lays eyes upon his brother for the first time in weeks. "I only decided to come back at the last minute," Philip explains as he sets his Louis Vuitton bags by the door. "I flew in from London yesterday and then took a red eye from New York." "It's good to see you," Spencer says as he pulls off the toilet paper and, seeing it covered in red, throws it away and covers it with another piece.

"Shaving mishap?" Philip asks. 

"Yeah. I'm in a rush to get to work. Tim's letting me sit in on a big call today."

"That's excellent." Philip removes his coat and slings it over his arm. 

"You're talking to me," Spencer says. "That's a good sign."

Philip bows his head. "I'm sorry I lashed out at you before I left, Spencer. Truly. It wasn't your fault that Molly found out what happened--and it wasn't your fault that I told the lie in the first place. I made a decision, and I'm going to have to live with the repercussions."

"So you're just gonna let Molly go?"

"I'm going to try my best not to," Philip says. "How about you? How were your holidays? I'm sorry I left you here alone--"

"It's okay. Seriously. I was fine. I went out with some buddies from KBU on New Year's Eve--and don't worry, I didn't get into any trouble."

"Good." Philip hangs his coat on one of the pegs mounted by the large sliding door. "And how about Christmas?"

Spencer shrugs. "It was fine."

"You could have gone to the Fishers'." 

"No way was I walking back into that, after what happened on Thanksgiving. But actually…" He reaches up and touches the paper to be sure it is still affixed to his throat. "Claire dropped by with dinner for me."

"She texted me to let me know that she'd checked up on you," Philip says, "but all she told me was that she'd brought you some food."

"That's kind of all that happened. But the food was good." Spencer hesitates, not sure if he wants to voice the question that is on the tip of his tongue. "How was it, seeing Mother? How's she doing?"

"She's holding up. She's…"

As Philip searches for words, Spencer interrupts:

"She really hates Claire and Tim and their family, huh?"

"She blames them for Father's death," Philip says. "And she was so involved with Nick Moriani, too. I don't think there will ever be any persuading her that there's any other way to see things."

"It's so weird that I never even knew about any of that stuff until I came here," Spencer says.

"I know. And I'm sorry for that. But it's all right if you feel that you want to embrace Tim and Claire and the other Fishers. You're allowed to make that decision."

Spencer feels all kinds of responses swirling in his head.

"I need to get moving, or I'm gonna be late for work," he says instead. "Glad you're back."

"It's good to be back," Philip says with a smile as he watches his brother hurry back toward the bathroom.

Alex Marshall thanks the barista as he takes his latté from the bar. 

"Have the police had anything more to say about Jason's coach?" Liam Cassel asks once the barista has moved away.

"A few things, but nothing concrete." Alex blows on the steam rising out of his cup's lid. "I get the impression they don't know very much. But they've had officers watching the house, just in case."

"I can't imagine living like that," Liam says in his British accent. "It must be terrifying."

"Yeah. I'm worried about Jason--and Sophie."

Liam rests an elbow upon the divider that separates customers from the area where drinks are made. "I can't say I'm sorry I missed that party."

"It was pretty awful. And I honestly don't know what to think about who could've done this to Sandy."

"With any luck, they'll catch the disturbed person who did this very soon, and everyone can move on with their lives."

"Liam!" the barista, a young woman with a purple streak in her hair, announces. Liam takes his cup, a teabag hanging from it.

"So English of you," Alex says with a chuckle. "We have a few minutes before we need to head to Vision. Want to sit down?"

Liam agrees and follows him to a small, white table by the window. They pause their conversation as they navigate through the morning traffic in the shop. 

"I keep thinking of things to change in the script, now that it's out of our hands," Alex says as they settle at the table.

"I'm sure this studio will have plenty of thoughts," Liam says. "I only hope one of them isn't, 'This is so terrible that we never want to speak of it again.'"

"I'm choosing to cross my fingers for good news."

"I like your outlook." Liam carefully sips the hot tea. "I told myself I'd look at 2015 that way. It's a new year--a new beginning."

"Exactly."

"It feels like I spent all of 2014 on hold… licking my wounds over the wedding being called off, waiting for things to happen in my career. I want that to change this year."

Alex forces himself to push past the awkward mention of Trevor--which, of course, Liam has no idea is awkward for him--and raises his coffee cup. 

"Here's to fresh starts," he says. 

Liam taps his cup against Alex's. "To fresh starts."

"As a matter of fact," Alex adds, "I have plans next weekend to go out with Cameron and some of his friends--"

"I thought you weren't seeing Cameron anymore."

Alex stares out the window, out at the rainy parking lot. "I'm not. Not really. But we talk, and… I don't know. Having more friends isn't a bad thing. He's a really nice guy."

"So long as you feel all right about it," Liam says. "You're much better at being friends with your exes than I am, I'll give you that much."

The comment, uttered so innocently, feels like a knife twisting in Alex's guts. 

"Anyway, you should come if you feel like getting out," he says quickly, eager to move the conversation along. "Might be a good way to meet some new people."

"I think that sounds like a smashing idea," Liam says, again raising his cup.

OBJECTION DESIGNS

Molly Taylor stands in the doorway of her office, arms folded across her cream-colored blouse with scalloped detailing, as she waits for Cameron Kelley to finish his phone call.

"I'll make a note of it and get back to you to confirm the time later today," Cameron says. "Thanks so much." He presses a button on the desktop phone to end the call.

"Could I talk to you for a minute?" Molly asks from behind him.

Cameron turns with something of a start. "Sure. Yeah." 

"It's about the fitting we had yesterday," she says, stepping out from the doorway. 

As he removes his headset, Cameron's mouth flaps open, though no words emerge. 

"Your comments were really helpful," Molly hastens to add, seeing how nervous her assistant is. "I took a look at the hems on both those skirts last night, and you were right. So thank you."

"Oh," Cameron says, expelling the word simultaneously with a relieved exhale. "I'm glad I could be of help. Sorry if I spoke out of turn."

"You didn't. You have a great eye. Your feedback is always welcome."

"Thank you." 

She see him working to calm himself after that brief scare and is about to reassure him further when something else catches her attention: a figure emerging at the open door that divides her suite from the remainder of the Objection office. She locks eyes with the man and then quickly averts hers, unsure how to react.

"Hi, Molly," Philip Ragan says. "Um, you should be getting to that meeting," Cameron says, scrambling to grab a random file folder off the desk and shove it into Molly's hands. Molly takes a moment to compose herself as she drinks in the sight of Philip, a gray scarf wrapped around his neck, for the first time in weeks. "No, it's all right," she says, handing the folder back to Cameron. "Give us a few minutes."

She leads Philip into her private office and remains silent until the door is closed. 

"When did you get back?" she asks.

"This morning. I'm sorry for dropping in this way. It's been difficult for me not to contact you, and I felt that now that I'm back…"

She nods, still attempting to sort out how she feels about him being here.

"I'm so sorry about what happened on New Year's Eve," Philip says. "I know Jason was very close to his coach. It must be horrible for all of you. I hope Caleb and Christian didn't have to see any of it."

"They didn't. Thank goodness." She sighs and tries to separate herself from the sincerity of his tone, the strength of his jaw, the soulfulness of his deep-set eyes--the things that made her fall in love with him in the first place. 

"Good. Well, I'm very sorry for your and your family's loss."

"Thanks."

A tension hangs in the air, so palpable that Molly is certain she could reach out and grasp it between her hands. 

"It's good to see you again," Philip says.

"You, too. But Philip…"

He tilts his head. "What?"

She steels herself and then asks, "What are you doing here?"

Dressed in a navy suit, white-and-blue pinstriped shirt, and gray tie with a subtle pattern, Tim Fisher turns the corner out of his office and finds his son waiting for him with a coffee.

"Here you go," Spencer Ragan says, handing Tim the cup.

"Thanks."

They begin walking in tandem down the hallway toward the conference room.

"And thanks for letting me sit in on this," Spencer says. "Nice change from handing out mail."

"If you're interested, we might as well give you a chance to learn." Tim looks over at him. "Cut yourself?"

Spencer's hand reflexively goes to the spot on his neck. "Yeah. I was rushing this morning. And Philip showed up right before I left."

Tim stops mid-step. "Philip's back?"

"Yeah. He took a red eye from New York. I guess he just got back from Europe yesterday."

"Wow." Tim sips his coffee thoughtfully. "Does Molly know?"

"I don't think so. He said he was gonna try to see her." Spencer shrugs. "I don't know why he's even bothering. Some chick cuts you loose like that for lying about one stupid thing… what's the point?"

Tim remains tight-lipped. Finally he says, "We should get in there."

In the conference room, they find Alex and Liam already waiting, each with a bottle of water in front of him. 

"Good to see you, gentleman," Tim says as he shakes each of their hands. Greetings are exchanged, and Tim explains that Spencer will be sitting in on the call for the sake of experience.

"Spencer, why don't you dial us in?" Tim says, handing Spencer his phone so he can read the number and code from the e-mail.

As Spencer dials on the phone in the center of the conference table, Liam scribbles a note on the pad in front of him and slides it over to Alex:

I have something he can sit in on.

Alex barely manages to stifle a guffaw and looks over with widened eyes at a grinning Liam.

"Hi, I have Tim Fisher, Alex Marshall, and Liam Cassel here," Spencer announces into the phone. "Great. Thanks." He puts the phone on speaker and sets down the handset. 

"Hey, everyone," says the female studio executive through the phone, her voice crackling ever so slightly. "Happy New Year."

Another wave of greetings are uttered as Spencer quietly takes a seat next to Tim.

"So you've had a chance to read the script," Tim says. "What did you think?"

"I'm going to be blunt here," says the other executive on the line, a man with an almost comically deep voice. "We love it."

Alex is unable to help himself. "Really?" 

"It's terrific," the female executive says. "You guys really managed to capture the spirit of the book but still shape it into a touching film that has real momentum."

Tim flashes Liam and Alex an excited look over the conference table. 

"So what would our next steps be?" Tim asks.

"We have some notes, of course," the male executive says, "but we'd like to move forward with this. We'll need to talk about rights and all that, so we suggest you guys find an entertainment lawyer to start hammering out some of this…"

The call goes on, but Alex is too elated to hear many of the specifics. 

It seems we'll have something to celebrate this weekend, Liam writes on the pad, and all Alex can do is nod emphatically as he tries to listen to Tim's follow-up questions for the studio. 

"I wanted to see you," Philip says. "I needed to."

Consumed by thoughts, Molly walks around to the other side of the desk, as if she needs the physical barrier between them in order to think clearly. 

"I've been hoping that, now that you've had some time to think…" Philip trails off, but his optimism is evident in his expression. 

"I've been thinking about you a lot," she admits.

The confession appears to spark a flame in Philip, who moves closer as he speaks. "I know that what I did was wrong, and I gave you reason to question whether you can trust me. I will be sorry for that until the end of time. But I hope that you know that is not the sum of who I am as a person."

"I know that, Philip."

"Good."

Now he is across the desk from her, and the barricade doesn't seem so significant at all.

"I've missed you," she finally says. "The holidays were really tough."

"They were almost unbearable for me."

Their eyes lock together. Molly can see, so clearly, the man with whom she fell in love, the partner with whom she was so excited to spend the rest of her life. All their plans seem to roll out before her. She can almost taste the wine from the trip to Napa they've discussed, can nearly feel the crisp Aspen air on the ski trip they've wanted to take. Is one transgression really worth losing an entire lifetime together? 

"I'm glad you've had some time to think things over," he says. "Maybe it's been good for both of us. Traveling helped me to clear my head a bit--and when I visited my mother--"

"You saw your mother?"

It's as if someone has dumped a bucket of ice water over Molly's head. 

"I was flying that way, anyway," Philip says. "She's my mother. I know she's done some unforgivable things, but--"

"She has. Yeah."

Philip furrows his brow. "Do you expect me to forget my mother exists?"

"No! I didn't say that." But Molly takes a step backward; the magic between them, whatever she was feeling a minute ago, has evaporated. "But after what happened to Sandy--it was just a reminder that I have to do everything I can to protect my family. My kids. And between your mother and Spencer…"

"Spencer is your family, too."

"I know." She shakes her head, desperate to free herself of the cobwebs that have suddenly spun themselves all over the place. "My whole family is in a panic that some crazy person is after my brother. I can't knowingly commit myself to a life of that, especially not after--" She stops herself, but she knows it is too late. She can see it in Philip's face.

"Not after I lied to you," he says.

All Molly can do is nod.

"I'm not my mother or my father, Molly."

"I know that. But…" She doesn't even know how to articulate this, really, but there is so much doubt and fear wound up around this entire situation. It feels to her like a knot that can never be untangled, and her fingers are raw and her knuckles are throbbing from the effort.

"I'm so sorry, Philip. I really am."

He stares at her for a long, painful moment.

"So am I," he says, and then he opens the door and leaves, and Molly once again feels that her insides have been ripped out.

END OF EPISODE #759

Is Molly right to stick to her guns?
Should Philip stay in King's Bay?
Will this new opportunity pan out for Alex and Liam?
Come to the Footprints Forum to talk about it all!

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