Suburban Girl Page #2

- Just go up to your boss's office

and speak to Faye. She'll explain everything.

- Who's Faye?

- Reservations, please.

Oh, it feels good. The burn.

The burn feels good.

Can you give me a hand here?

- You must be Katie.

- I'm Brett.

Oh, right. The one with the office.

Well, Brett, it's nice to meet you.

I'm your new boss, Faye Faulkner.

Yes. That Faulkner.

- What happened to Dorrie?

- Dorrie's dead.

(LAUGHS)

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

You see, Dorrie was

the victim of her own futile search

for something that no longer exists.

A great novelist.

Sorry about your office, by the way.

My assistant Jason needed some privacy

to make sure the transition went smoothly,

but I'll be sure you get it back

in a week or so.

Sure. It's no problem.

In the meantime, just go about your work

until the evaluation process ends, hmm?

Okay.

Oh, wait. One more thing.

(PHONE RINGING)

Faye Faulkner.

Jean-Claude.

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

It's a private invitation

to a Bergdorf sale tonight.

Forty off. Enjoy.

- What happened?

- Dorrie got fired.

Damn it. After I spent a year

kissing her cellulite-riddled ass.

Oh, the news gets even worse.

She's been replaced by Faye Faulkner.

Oh, God, no. My friend worked for Faye

over at Viking. She quit after a week.

Told me she'd rather work for Al Qaeda.

She's not wearing any underwear.

She probably slept her way over here.

Seaver, not every successful woman

uses sex to get ahead.

The pretty ones do. The ugly ones can't.

BRETT:
You should see the idiot they put

in my office.

I'm stuck in this cubicle.

Well, it's just Dorrie was the one

who hired me in the first place.

She even thought I could make editor

by the end of the year.

Now that she's gone every one

of my projects could be in jeopardy.

ROBERT:
Well, let's see what develops

in the next few weeks.

No reason to panic yet. Okay?

- Okay. I love you, Daddy.

- Love you too, honey.

Some dude called for you.

What?

One of your calls got misdirected.

Some dude named Jughead,

or Archie. He left a voice mail.

I might have saved it. I don't...

VOICE MAIL:
Mail box 107.

One new message.

ARCHIE:
It's Archie.

You sound hungry

on your outgoing message,

so I decided to cook you dinner tonight.

8:
30. 159 East 61st Street.

See you then. Oh, don't forget a chaperone.

(CHUCKLES)

Holy sh*t.

How do I look?

No chaperone?

I switched cars. I think I lost him.

How about a tour?

This is my daughter's room.

- She likes Coltrane?

- Only since she was three.

Who's that?

That's Milan Kundera.

I knew that.

- Master bedroom.

- No, thanks.

I'll be up soon, darling.

(LAUGHS)

Don't be silly,

I'm just feeding a hungry child.

BRETT:
And the next day she was gone.

Dorrie was the closest thing

I ever had to a mentor.

So now you have to take your marching

orders from the likes of Faye Faulkner?

Well, she's a Brit, but claims to be related

to the quintessential American author.

Maybe I should change

my name to Brett Bront.

(ARCHIE LAUGHING)

Thank you.

You're not drinking?

I'm an alcoholic.

(CHUCKLING)

- You're not joking.

- No.

I'm sorry.

I did it again.

I'll have three years sober this May.

I'll be three years legal this May.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

So...

Who's this On the Road fella of yours?

- Jed.

- Jed?

That's his name? Jed?

Does he make you happy?

Sure.

You know Dante's definition of hell?

Give me a minute.

"Proximity without intimacy."

Dante never said that.

(LAUGHING)

Of course he did.

Didn't he?

Well, I'll be damned.

You're right.

Don't forget this.

What is it?

To answer that question would make this

beautiful wrapping job I did superfluous.

No, no, wait until you're alone.

It'll be more dramatic that way.

Is this all some sort of experiment?

To see how long it takes

to seduce a young girl?

Seduce? Why would I want to do that?

Think about it.

What would the point of that be?

What would be the point of seducing you?

Stop by if you change your mind.

(CAR ENGINE STARTING)

Any time of the night or day.

Surprise!

Ted!

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

God! When did you get back?

Just a couple of hours ago.

Well, why didn't you tell me?

I could have met you at the airport.

Well, I wanted to surprise you.

You did.

I had to make sure

you were being a virtuous,

God-fearing,

woman

while I was on the front.

(LAUGHING)

Know what I really missed?

Your grilled cheese.

ARCHIE ON VOICE MAIL:

It's Archie.

I left a little present for you

at your favorite book store.

Hope you don't mind.

(SIGHS)

Jed, I...

- I think there's someone else.

- Huh?

There's someone else!

Jesus, B, there's no one else.

Okay, look, I might have hooked up

with a chick in Sweden,

but I swear it was temporary insanity.

I was reading too much Strindberg...

Jed, for once in your life, listen to me.

Okay? I'm telling you

that I met someone else.

Quit fooling around. I really missed you...

No, you didn't.

In six months I got one postcard.

From Sweden.

Now I know why.

Come on, Brett,

you can't just dump me like this.

Look how romantic I'm being?

- Come on, give me a chance.

- I gave you a chance!

And you know what you did?

You went to Europe without me.

Will you at least put me up for a few weeks?

Till I find a place?

On the couch.

For me or you?

You ready?

Did Van Gogh have one ear?

I just need to get my bag. I'll be a second.

(LAUGHING)

You're pretty chipper for a girl in mourning.

Mourning? Over Jed?

Give me a little more credit than that.

Oh, really? I thought for sure

you'd be upset.

Is that the only decent excuse for a visit?

Relationship trauma?

Well, you guys have been together

for over a year.

Six months of which he spent in Europe

suffering from a peculiar form

of Stockholm syndrome.

Yeah.

Why? Don't you think

we should've stayed together?

Well, how I felt about Jed

is totally irrelevant.

Even more so now that you two are

no longer an item.

You know, I think I've met

someone else. He's a little bit older.

That fast, huh?

- He's an editor.

- Hey! Here they are.

He used to be friendly with Aunt Hilda.

He is really more of a friend, though.

Have I ever told you that you've perfected

the art of parental non-interference?

Well, the Hippocratic oath is very clear.

"First, do no harm."

Especially to daughters.

So, what else do we absolutely,

positively have to have?

- Oh! A pair of Gucci shoes.

- Oh! How about a shower curtain?

Even better.

Now, you promise me that you're gonna

have your building super put those up.

With or without batteries?

- I love you.

- I love you too, honey.

What is it, honey?

I just miss you, Daddy. That's all.

I know.

Shut up.

Well, what have we here?

Looky what I got.

A final copy of the Jane Shanning book

you edited.

No way! I've been reading so much lately,

I almost forgot I was an associate.

Hey, guys.

What's the matter?

No acknowledgment.

Six months editing a book on penguins

and I get nothing.

Don't feel bad.

An author I once worked with

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes