Wild Orchid Page #2

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We all have to lose ourselves|sometimes...

to find ourselves,|don't you think?

I don't know.

Sure we do.

Look around.

That elderly woman|at the next table...

the one with the bodyguards|that match her gown...

tell me about her.

What would it take|for her to lose control?

What do you think?

The wig.

Losing her wig|would definitely wig her out.

And what about them?

The couple in the white.

Are they happy or sad?

Sad. Definitely sad.

And whose money is it?

His or hers?

Hers.

And where did they meet?

A ski resort in Switzerland.

And he was the ski instructor?

Nope. He was there|training for the Olympics.

Then he broke his leg.

Was it love at first sight?

How did she know?

Because it was something|she never felt before.

The wedding night.

Tell me about|the wedding night.

Where did they go?

They went to a grand hotel...

on a tropical beach somewhere.

They made their reservations|by phone...

not knowing|it had fallen to ruin.

He hated it.

She liked it.

It made her feel...

What?

Decadent.

So he took her to their room?

Do you know what?

I've always hated roast beef,|even when I was a kid,

and I've never had the heart|to tell my mother.

What happened in that room?

I really don't want to go|any further.

If you don't tell me...

then I'm going to go|over there and ask them myself.

You wouldn't.

Please, don't.

It's just that I know I won't|be able to sleep tonight...

unless I hear the end|of the story.

Whatever happened in that room|left its mark on them.

They never made it to the room.

He refused to stay there,|remember?

So he left?

He left her alone|in the lobby...

feeling what she felt...

wanting what she wanted?

She was livid.

She wanted to get even.

So she looked around.

Saw another man?

She caught him reflected|in the mirror watching her.

And she didn't run away?

No, she didn't run away.

She waited|until the desk clerk...

went into the dining room|for dinner...

and then she moved|into the office.

The door was hanging|half off its hinges.

Anyone could have seen them.

Who saw them, Emily?

Didn't you?

Come with me.

There's something|I want to show you.

Pick it up.

You're not going|to believe this.

I'm in a goddamn wedding.

Elliot's niece|really did get married.

Listen!

Twisting on a rooftop|in Buenos Aires.

I feel like|I'm in a f***ing time warp.

Elliot, say hello to Emily.

Never mind.|You'll meet him in Rio.

If I have to, I'll bring him|back on a goddamn leash.

Now listen, Emily,|I want to wrap this thing up...

the minute we land in Rio...

so set up a meeting|at the airport...

and don't you take no|for an answer.

I'm not used to women|running away from me.

And I'm not used to|men in masks biting my neck.

I think you have me|confused with someone else.

That's not my style, Emily.

He looked like you.

He felt like you.

How do you know|what I feel like?

Look, however I offended you...

if I offended you...

I'd like to make it up to you.

I'll pick you up at noon.

There's some places|I'd like to show you...

and some things|I'm sure you'd like to see.

And how would you know|what I like?

Instinct.

I'm sorry. I can't.

I have too much work to do.

In that case,|I'll pick you up at 3:00.

You weren't too far off.|They didn't meet in Switzerland.

They met in Monaco|at the Grand Prix.

And he wasn't a ski instructor.|He was a race car driver.

And he didn't have a busted leg.

He had an infected tooth.

I took the liberty|of introducing myself to them...

after you'd left.

Otto and Hanna Munch of Munich.

The bikes are my pride and joy.

Vestiges of my lost youth.

I take them with me everywhere.

Otto never rode|on a Harley, so...

Harley f***ing Davidson, U.S.A.!

See that sailor dancing|all alone over there?

He's got a gun in his sock.

If he goes for it,|throw this in his face.

Let me go!

Now!

Let me go!

I tried to get to you, Hanna.

Don't cover me up,|you understand?

You don't like the way I look?

What's wrong with me?

Look at me!

- I said look at me!|- Get in the car.

Let's get him!|The son of a b*tch!

Come on!

Look at me!

Get in the car.

You motherf***er!

Don't.

Don't cover up.

I want to look at you.

That's what you want,|isn't it, Hanna?

You have perfect skin.

Very beautiful breasts.

You have a nice, hard,|flat stomach like a swimmer's.

You haven't had a child,|have you?

That's right, Otto.

Look at your wife.

She's beautiful.|Spirited.

What happened|to make you so angry?

Did you find her|with another man?

Did you push her into his arms,|and she liked it?

Was that it?

Are you punishing her|because she liked it?

Did you find her...

with his hand...

on her thighs?

And she liked it?

Was that it?

Did he have his hands...

on her breasts?

And she liked it?

Is that what happened, Otto?

Is it?

Tell them to stop.

I would if I could.

But I can't.

Haven't you ever felt like that?

Primal?

Insatiably hungry?

Look at them, Emily.

Tell me what you see.

I see two people having sex.

Making love.

There's a difference.

What is this, some kind of joke?

How?

How did I know about the roast|beef and the mashed potatoes?

Or how did I get into your room?

Why this?

Why all the trouble?

This place seemed to have made|a lasting impression on you.

I wanted to find out why.

Why?

Because I'm interested in you.

I'll bet you sang|in the Presbyterian choir.

You went|on those family reunions.

And you picked|blackberries and...

blueberries and huckleberries|in the summer.

The pride of your mother.

Apple of the old man's eye.

Why do I get the feeling that...

if I reach out and touch you,|you'll disappear?

Why don't you try it and see?

I'm sorry.

It's not you.

It's me.

I'm just not... very good|at being touched, Emily.

They gave me this.

They said it was a gift for|bringing them back together.

I want you to have it.

Will you leave it on, please?

For me?

How come you're always|following her around?

Don't you have anything better|to do with your time?

You'd better stay away|from that one.

Otherwise, she's going|to break your heart.

Could I have a Boodles martini,|straight up?

Two olives, please.

Excuse me...

I'm Jerome.

I'm American.

I feel like a fool|in this thing.

It's a shame|you can't understand me...

because I'm about|to give you a compliment.

You ready?

From the moment I saw you...

I suddenly wanted you|more than anything or anyone...

I've ever wanted in my life.

But you don't give a sh*t|about that, do you?

All you want is my money, right?

That's too bad.

Because as beautiful|as you are, I can see...

just putting you on a plane|and taking you home with me.

Setting you up in a nice place|with a doorman and a view.

Seriously.

You'd sleep till noon.

Eat in the finest restaurants.

Shop.

But first I'd like you to do|a little something for me.

All you have to do|is put your hand...

in my lap...

until I count to three.

Do it...

and this is yours.

Son of a b*tch.

He actually wants me to go up|to one of those rooms with him.

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