not before. not before. think about it. what does it mean? what -- no, i'm not. think. yes. see? you figured it out all by yourself. i know. are we done? okay.
adhara. i told your father, if you're looking for a name, you can't go wrong with a constellation.
could be worse, he could've named you reticulum.
polished. handsome. charismatic. especially when he's smiling like he is now. he leans over and kisses her.
is there anything in the world that you want or need?
gordon? he's been with me for years. he's not as tough as he looks.
is it possible that you're too young to be acquainted with the idea of loyalty?
not for you, clearly.
am i a thing?
i'm not.
i'm so glad we're having this chat.
it's not a compliment.
as soon as you get dressed.
anything but japanese.
i'm not into finger foods. too fussy.
i don't like do-it-yourself cuisine. buffets. salad bars.
it's just fuel to me. i'm not there for distractions.
that's what gordon's always saying.
yes.
i'll be there as soon as i can.
what.
what kind?
our black friends?
i thought he was in prison, in england.
what do we do?
i'm sorry.
who?
sure.
no. i know another way out.
hmm?
different ones.
we all did.
have you ever dreamed of a place .  you don't really recall ever having been to .  a place that probably doesn't even exist except in your imagination .  somewhere far away, half-remembered when you wake up .  but when you were there you spoke the language, you knew your way around .  that was the 60's.
no, it wasn't. wasn't either.
it was '66 .  early '67. that was all.
hi.
catches wilson's eye for a nanosecond, does a subtle double take, then moves on.
i'm a gracious host.
still dealing with people desperate to be the focus of his attention. he notices:
in a series of cuts, still being the gracious host, still keeping his eyes on:
excuses himself from a group of sycophants and goes to her.
hi. terry valentine.
have we met? there's something i can't quite --
ah.
i don't.
i suppose that's good, unless things were fine the way they were.
thanks. you, too.
moves that way.
turns to look toward the front door. wilson not to be seen. valentine pushes through the crowd toward the door.
why, because you're my security consultant? this cocksucker nearly burnt my house down.
i told them a long-time employee flipped out. had a drug problem, refused counselling. set the garage on fire, then committed suicide. one of my "guests" tried to stop him -- but how do you stop gordon.
i mean, gordon must weigh a good four hundred pounds.
as it happens. i didn't make that part up.
i don't know everyone here. he was so traumatized he split. maybe he was gordon's pusher.
where do you think he is, mike.
no. i mean. not even your people should be involved. right? it's too close now.
you think i'm staying?
well, can we make it one more. nowhere the fuck near me.
heading that way. then stops. backtracks. something peripherally had caught his eye and he returns to it. his wall of photographs.
all your life. that happened while i swam the length of my pool.
what's the matter?
the freeway's faster, but lacks a certain majesty.
i sure hope so.
hello there.
exercising my visitation rights.
i miss my kids.
you've made it .  brighter.
sure you do.
no trouble.
susan.
where's .  what's-his-name -- fred --
is he here?
go to him. go to his studio, or writers workshop or artists colony, esselin retreat, nudist camp --
in a couple of days this whole thing --
go now.
that's right, your life is shit, and i'm to blame. it's that simple.
do any of these guys cook?
turns to look through the sliding glass doors.
check the news.
notices this, looks out toward the backyard.
moves to the sliding glass door to get a better look at the deck and back yard. still no larry.
where's larry?
what's happening?
we think someone is here.
we can't find .  .  two of our guys.
no.
because --
puts adhara's hand to her ears.
what?
decides to make a run for it, following tom's route, away from ed.
bounces off the couch and onto the floor.
grabs a lamp off an end table and hurls it at wilson. it careens off wilson's arm and shatters.
tries to scramble away. throwing anything he can get his hands on at.
crashes into the tv face first and bounces to the floor.
scrambles through the sliding glass door.
painfully rights himself. a small bone protrudes from his broken ankle. he fires at wilson, gun in one hand, other hand gripping his wrist to try and steady it. doing his best to aim. but the shots miss their mark.
out of bullets now. gun clicking crazily on empty. he simply drops it.
what.
tell you .
she could've had the deal! i would've handed it to her if she wanted. i would have given her everything.
she didn't want to share it, she wanted to stop it. to stop me. she said she'd turn me in.
she said, "you go ahead with this, i'll turn you in, terry."
she was serious. she would have done it. she had the phone in her hand. she was going to do it.