Suburban Girl

Hobby of yours?

Let me guess, you're the author?

No. I just... I felt compelled, really.

I mean, you have to admit it's a little unfair.

You know, you have

all the copies of that one book

and not a single copy

of the critically-acclaimed,

New York Times noteworthy

Silent Day, edited by yours truly.

So you're an editor at Gitlin & Stern?

Associate, actually. But yes.

Hopefully, if this book hits,

I will be promoted to full editor.

Then I'll get invited to

fabulous, upscale cocktail parties.

And guess who's gonna be my plus one?

(SCOFFS)

You should take this up with Archie Knox,

the editor-in-chief of Stratharen Publishing.

- I know who Archie Knox is.

- Well, if you did,

you know Mr. Knox personally inspects

every single window display in Manhattan.

And if he sees your insignificant book

occupying his author's significant space,

I guarantee you'll spend

the rest of your pitiful career

editing Teletubby books.

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

Put those books back!

(SIGHS)

(SIGHS)

CABBIE:
Why not use a pen?

Maybe then you wouldn't change

your mind so much.

You know what? Hell with it. Taxi!

Chloe! I'm here!

- You are totally late.

- I know.

- I'm sorry, I was totally stuck in traffic.

- Uh-huh.

Do you have any idea what standing in front

of a library could do to my reputation?

You used to love libraries.

Remember in school?

I think you had sex in one.

CHLOE:
Why are we here?

Because I'll never make full editor

until we start mixing with the oligarchs.

Okay.

And he is one of them.

- That's Archie Knox.

- He's cute.

He's a legend in my business.

My Aunt Hilda used to hang out with him

in the '70s.

She said that he was so charming,

dogs used to follow him around.

Makes sense. Dogs follow dogs.

MAN ON MICROPHONE: Okay, everybody.

Tonight's my great pleasure to introduce

Mr. Archie Knox.

Mr. Knox has been

Mickey Lamm's editor for 25 years.

Without further ado,

I'm going to let him introduce his author.

Everybody, Mr. Archie Knox.

Make sure that you read this with food.

- Not on an empty stomach, okay?

- Thank you.

Is there anyone special I can make it out to?

Oh, that's okay, you don't have to sign it.

I'm not gonna read it anyway.

(LAUGHS)

Well, I think that qualifies you

as the brightest person here.

Here you go.

- How about you?

- You could...

ARCHIE:
Stop flirting, Mickey.

She's much too pretty for you.

There he goes again.

He's stealing my groupies.

You can make it out to Brett.

Let me guess.

Your novelist father named you after

Brett Ashley in The Sun Also Rises.

My father's a doctor.

But yes, I was named after that character.

My brother's named Ethan.

After Ethan Frome.

Well, as I always say, better to be named

after a sensuous 1920s flapper than...

A tragic, desperate man with an ugly scar

across his forehead.

Exactly.

ARCHIE:
Now, Brett, what are you doing here

among the literati?

BRETT:
I work at Gitlin & Stern.

Really? You know, I knew Jake Gitlin

and Bob Stern years ago

before they killed each other in a duel.

- That's just industry lore.

- Not at all.

If memory serves, they were both on horses

and charged right at each other.

Used copies of Les Misrables as weapons

to bludgeon one another to death.

- I heard it was Brothers Karamazov.

- Impossible.

Gitlin and Stern were both Francophiles.

They would never use a Russian novel

as a murder weapon, it's too literal.

- Are you...

- Starving.

I will have the crpes suzette. Thank you.

She's too young to be having dessert first,

so would you bring her the nioise salad

and I'll have the steak frites.

Very good, Mr. Knox.

(CELL PHONE BUZZING)

I apologize, that's so rude.

- Is that one of those...

- My BlackBerry.

It's reminding me that I should be reading

a manuscript right now.

- You don't have one?

- No.

It can fix your whole life.

Two ex-wives and a spiteful daughter

cannot be "fixed" by a

BoysenBerry.

MARGARET:
Archie, darling!

Margaret. Margaret,

I want you to meet my friend Brett,

a rising star at Gitlin & Stern.

Archie.

I'm planning on throwing a party for Mickey

when he wins the Pulitzer Prize for fiction.

Isn't that a bit premature?

Margaret has predicted

Thirty-six.

Maggie the Greek.

By day, a critic extraordinaire.

By night, a Park Avenue bookie.

I'll be calling you next month

to tell you all the details.

In the meantime, try to be a good boy

and don't keep the little gazelle up

past her bedtime.

Come on, darling.

Leon.

Wait, was that really Margaret Paddleford?

No, it was Norman Mailer in a dress.

Have a Twizzler?

Anyway, the author's complaints are making

the process unbearable.

I mean, he's whining about the cover art,

he's complaining

about our choice of release date.

He even hates his publicity photo,

which, incidentally, was retouched

to make him look like Dorian Gray.

Ask to be taken off the project.

I'm the one who brought the manuscript in.

I can't bail now.

Malt ball?

I'm a diabetic.

Sorry.

Just standing in this place is making

my feet tingle.

You were about to offer some advice?

Well, when it comes to writers,

there's only one rule. Patience.

Of course, if that fails,

I know a very discreet hit-man

who would spread the body parts

all over Jersey.

(CHUCKLING)

Serves me right.

My Great Aunt Hilda once told me

never take a job whose sole purpose

is to make people feel imperfect.

Sage advice.

Hilda?

What did you say your last name was?

Eisenberg.

Dear God! You're not related to...

- I'm her grand-niece.

- Hilda Eisenberg?

- Yes.

- I adored Hilda!

You know, the first time I met her

was at Botn's in Madrid.

It was Hemingway's favorite restaurant,

famous for its suckling pig,

and Hilda got incredibly drunk

and she bet me that she could punt

the pig carcass

across the entire length of the dining room,

which she did.

Won a hell of a lot of pesetas.

I used that in my book.

- You wrote a book?

- One.

Years ago.

It's on Amazon's endangered species list.

Dear Hilda. She was

the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Let me see your face.

I can see her in your eyes.

(ARCHIE CHATTERING)

BRETT:
This is me.

You live in Hilda's old apartment?

- You've been here?

- Many, many nights, yeah.

Her parties were legendary.

Well, she left it in the family

and I have temporary custody.

I have a boyfriend.

I have a goldfish.

Well, then...

Is he in there? The boyfriend.

No. Actually, he's...

He's over there.

- Papaya King?

- Europe.

He's finding himself.

Why did he have to travel 3,000 miles

to find himself without you?

What do I know?

Good night, Pumpkin.

Good night.

- BRETT:
Hey.

- Good morning, Brett.

(WOMAN CHATTERING ON PHONE)

JASON:
Uh-huh.

Uh-huh.

Okay, so what's the cost difference between

a partial ocean view and a full ocean view?

Excuse me?

Let me speak to my boss

and get back to you. Damn!

Why are you in my office?

I knew no one was gonna tell you,

but I'm not gonna get stuck with it.

- Am I fired?

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