Pretty Woman Page #10

MR. THOMAS

Miss Vivian... there's a salon

here in the hotel. Instead of

worrying unnecessarily about table

manners, why don't you just have

your hair done instead?

VIVIAN:

Professionally?

INT. SALON - LATE AFTERNOON

Vivian sits in a salon chair. The last customer, THANE, a

young man of about twenty with his long hair pulled back in a

pony tail, tilts her head one way and then another, eyeing her

professionally.

VIVIAN:

I have a friend who has a friend

who does Cher's wigs.

THANE:

I hate him already.

(a beat)

All set?

VIVIAN:

Yeah... what a ya say we chop

it all off and bleach the tips.

THANE:

Darling? Trust me.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY - EVENING

Edward enters and looks around the lobby. No Vivian. Annoyed.

Edward crosses to a house phone and picks it up. He's about

to dial when:

MR. THOMAS

Good evening, Mr. Harris.

Edward looks at him blankly.

MR. THOMAS

Barnard Thomas, manager of the

hotel.

EDWARD:

Of course, yes. If you'll excuse

me just a moment --

MR. THOMAS

I have a message for you from your

"niece", sir.

EDWARD:

My what?

MR. THOMAS

The young lady staying in your

room?

Edward's eyes narrow. He hangs up the phone.

EDWARD:

I think we both know she's not

my niece.

Mr. Thomas looks uncomfortable.

EDWARD (cont'd)

Does this hotel have any problem

with that?

MR. THOMAS

Mr. Harris, a guest of yours, is

a guest of ours and shall be

treated accordingly. The young

lady asked me to tell you that

she is waiting for you in the

lounge.

EDWARD:

Thank you.

He starts towards the lounge.

MR. THOMAS

Very intriguing young woman, Miss

Vivian.

His tone stops Edward in his tracks.

MR. THOMAS (cont'd)

Have a good evening, sir.

And off he goes, leaving Edward to wonder what the hell

transpired during the afternoon.

INT. HOTEL LOUNGE - NIGHT

Edward enters the lounge. He looks around, not seeing Vivian.

And suddenly his eyes go back to... the beautiful girl with the

beautifully styled hair in the beautiful black cocktail dress

at the piano bar. Edward tries to hide his surprise as Vivian

rises, moves elegantly towards him. She smiles.

VIVIAN:

You're late.

Such a beautiful woman deserves an apology and so, without

thinking:

EDWARD:

I'm sorry.

VIVIAN:

You're forgiven.

She waits expectantly. He holds out an arm. She takes it.

INT. REX RESTAURANT - NIGHT

Vivian comes out of the ladies room. She walks forward past

the MAITRE'D'S station. She stops. She takes a breath... and

then walks forward.

INT. REX - ANOTHER ANGLE - LOOKING DOWN

Vivian moves down a marble starircase, through the elegant

restaurant toward a far table. Her beauty and natural grace

draw approving stares. She is like a queen moving through a

ballroom.

At a secluded table, Edward sits in conversation with two men.

JAMES KROSS, in his early 70's, a bulky self-made millionaire

industrialist. Sitting next to him is his son and second in

command, DAVID KROSS, a handsome man in his early thirties.

All of them rise as Vivian comes to the table. David Kross

holds out Vivian's chair for her. Surprised, she nods her

thanks. In front of her is an enormous placesetting. She

smiles down at the utensils, filled with confidence.

Waiters have placed a delicate salad down in front of each of

them. Vivian proudly reaches for her salad fork. But then she

sees that Kross has picked up the fork closest to his plate and

is digging into his salad with that.

Vivian looks to see what Edward will do. He doesn't seem

interested in eating yet. Neither does David Kross. Feeling

a sudden panic, Vivian puts her fork down.

KROSS:

So young man, I understand you

are trying to take over my

company.

A moment. The abruptness of the question takes Edward back for

a moment. But then he almost smiles.

EDWARD:

Please don't patronize me, Mr.

Kross. Our ages mean nothing

here.

Kross and David look at each other.

DAVID:

Mr. Harris, we know you've

purchased at least twenty percent

of our stock. We also know you

plan to file a formal bid for a

majority share.

EDWARD:

Twenty-five percent.

KROSS:

Mr. Harris, I built Kross

Enterprises myself. I know every

man who ever worked there by his

first name. I know their wives...

and their children. If your

intention is to take over my

company and turn it into a

glorified real estate deal, think

again.

Edward, thankfully, now reaches for his salad fork and begins

to eat. Relieved, Vivian picks up hers. They all eat for a

moment.

EDWARD:

What do you suggest, Mr. Kross?

WAITERS approach, some to clear the salad plates, some to put

down the next course. Vivian, thinking she's got to finish,

quickly stuffs her mouth with the rest of her salad. She is

reluctant to let the Waiter take her fork.

KROSS:

What would it take to buy our

stock back? Name your price.

EDWARD:

To get me in a mood to sell --

double what I paid. But your

company doesn't have enough

capital right now to buy anything.

DAVID:

We're on the verge of closing

a large navy contract. Double

is ridiculous but we can assure

you a healthy profit on your

shares. We would give you a

promissory note...

EDWARD:

You're not getting any navy

contracts.

Vivian can see that both father and son are stunned by this

news.

DAVID:

There's no way you could know

that.

EDWARD:

But I do know. I also know your

lines of credit are over-extended.

If I don't buy your company,

someone else will...

(looking up)

Ah, the escargot.

Escargot are put down in front of everyone. Vivian stares at

them dubiously. She picks up what she assumes is the next

"right" fork. She picks up a snail. The two do not fit.

Flustered, she doesn't know what to do. No one else seems to

be eating. And now a Waiter comes and places escargot forks

at each place. Vivian picks it up with a sigh of relief.

VIVIAN:

(softly, to the Waiter)

Scume me, what are these things?

WAITER:

(bending to whisper)

Escargot, mademoiselle.

EDWARD:

(leaning close to

whisper)

Snails.

Vivian stares at them, horrified. She, like James and David

Kross, no longer seem interested in eating. Edward eats with

pleasure.

EDWARD:

Mr. Kross, I'm not here to sell

you my stock. On the contrary,

I'm here to buy yours.

Rate this script:4.0 / 2 votes