who doesn't? roy declines frank's phone, moves to his own. he plucks up the receiver, cleans its mouthpiece with his handkerchief, then un-holds mrs. fisk. the moment he does, his whole personality transforms.
mrs. fisk? john goodhew, regional vice-president at allied affiliates. congratulations! which prize are you hoping for? that would be my choice, too. can i ask you one question, irene? do you have grandchildren? five! how old? well, you're a very lucky woman. yes, i agree: they are our most precious resource. i've got a six and two- year old at home and i'll tell you: the day i installed a filtrator.  absolutely you can taste the difference. now i understand you'd like to talk to your husband about this first, and i understand why, but the thing is, irene -- -- my secretary is having a baby this afternoon and the whole office here is about to bug out and go over to the hospital. yes, it's very exciting. but today is our deadline, so you see.
irene, that's sweet of you to offer, and i'm sure she'd love that, but we're in chicago. uh- huh, cooped up in our corporate offices on state street. i'll tell you, though, i rather be out in sunny california with you today 'cause it's just pouring up here. cats and dogs, exactly. now let me confirm your address for our courier service.
carolyn schaffer? i'm agent kellaway, this is agent cole, we're from the federal trade commission. sorry to disturb you. we'd like to ask you a few questions if we could.
we hope so, ma'am. may we come in?
i'm sorry to tell you this, ma'am, but you won't be receiving any prize. and i'm sorry to tell you you've been the victim of fraud.
how much did you give them, mrs. schaffer?
but we've met people who paid twice what you did. you wrote a check, ma'am? did you mail it to them?
if they use the postal system, it's mail fraud and we can go after them. otherwise, there's not a lot we can do.
a lot of these sons-of-bitches -- excuse me, ma'am -- they work in syndicates. if they cashed your check out of state, it's federal and we can act. but we'd need a signed clearance from you for your bank to run a trace on the check, and then --
you have any more of those l-47's?
here, use my pen. as the husband's eyes glaze over the small print, the dog scratches at the door again.
all we need is the name of your bank, your account number and your signature at the bottom. any luck, these guys were amateurs, cashed your check in nevada.
sorry. i'm fine, thanks. thank you.
yes. the car pulls out.
-- with the boat.
if it's real money, it's long con. i don't do long con.
without me, frank. frank puts up his hands: never mind.
you have to pay her extra for that?
dammit! he grabs for the vial, empty -- pills are swirling down the drain -- then scrambles for the tap, slamming it off, but too late: all the capsules have been swept away.
shit! roy frets, thinks, decides. rolling up his sleeve, he dips his hand into the sink's disposal, patting around its base for pills. at last, he finds one. pinches it and raises it into the light. and roy knows: there's no way he'll ever put that thing in his mouth.
hi, i need to talk to mancuso. man-cus-o. what do you mean he? you gotta be shitting me.
shit.
take off your shoes.
take 'em off, or you don't come in.
no. windows. looking for something?
watch -- the rug. frank stops short of it. looks at roy.
i spilled them. down the garbage disposal. by accident.
he moved.
that's what i said. a beat.
frank --
frank.
wipe that thing down when you're done with it, okay? a beat. frank looks to be at the end of his rope.
go ahead.
they were green capsules. i think it said p.d.f. on them. something like that.
that's a funny thing for a shrink to say. klein smiles; roy doesn't.
yes. i was getting them illegally.
so i wouldn't have to talk to someone like you. do you know what they were?
can you get me more of them?
-- i'm sorry, doc, but my partner, my buddy frank --
-- he said i could come here and you'd get me the pills i need. if you can't do that, this session's over before it's started.
and you skirt it. can you get me the pills or not?
then let's get that prescription pad out.
i get tired a lot, but i can't sleep. certain things distract me, make me feel sick to my stomach.
when people leave doors open, or windows. i don't like being outdoors. they call that agoraphobia, right?
dirt. especially around moldings. klein makes a note.
what personal relationships?
with a woman? a long time ago.
keep going.
heather.
maybe.
she was pregnant when she left me. maybe i got a kid, maybe i don't.
no.
she left with a black eye, which i gave her, and a bun in the oven, which might have come from anyone. so, no, i haven't. for all i know she got hit by a bus. for all i know she got rid of the baby, 'cause she'd been down that path before. doc: i spent last tuesday on my living room sofa. watching my carpet. watching fibers on my carpet. and the whole time i was watching my carpet i was worrying that i might vomit, and the whole time i was worrying i might vomit, i was thinking: i'm a grown man, i should know what's going on in my head. and the more i thought about it the more i realized i should just blow my brains out and end it all, but the more i wanted to blow my brains out, the more i thought about what that would do to my goddamn carpet. and that was a good day, doc. so gimme some pills and let me get on with my life.
-- fenton. f-e-n-t-o-n. heather. what about in orange county?
i was young, she was very young. we met in a bar. discovered we both had similar interests. basically, drinking and -- he waves his hand.
if you gotta be dirty about it. then we got hitched. i don't think either of us put a whole lot of thought into it.
that was later. after things got bad. we fought a lot.
what have you got? i wasn't sober a lot then --
-- so some nights she just didn't come home. she was pregnant two months before she told me. which is why i.
if there's a baby.
sometimes. rarely. if i see a school bus or -- i wonder: is one of those kids roy jr.?
fourteen.
if he's a he. if he is at all.
doc, do you know of a way of? just to find out.
i tried that last night. couldn't say a word. klein looks surprised. roy pushes the number on him.
could you? call her?
just to find out. klein hesitates: this is unorthodox. but that's what roy wants. at last, klein relents; he takes heather's number.
doc.
does she want to talk to me? dr. klein no. she doesn't. i'm sorry. she didn't understand it might help with your therapy.
you told her i was in therapy. dr. klein i told her i was a psychiatrist. i can't lie, roy. angela wants to talk to you, though.
who? dr. klein angela. your daughter. she knows you're her father, and she says she really wants to meet you. roy can't move or speak for a moment. then:
doc, can you hold the line a moment?
where?
shit. roy throws open his car door.
hey -- hey!! the girl stops. roy stumbles out of his caprice, clothes disheveled, cigarette dangling from his mouth.
you angela?
so: you're fourteen.
what?
i've never been in prison.
your mom tell you that?
i'm not dead. i'm in antiques.
you -- you hungry? do you mind eating? it's just -- i'd feel better somewhere indoors. i get uncomfortable sometimes being outside. she gives him a curious look.
i thought you weren't hungry.
what's that thing with girls -- where they don't eat?
at least we know you don't have that.
sorry.
how is your mom?
so you're in school, right?
right. well, school's real important. if i had anything to do over again, i'd work harder in school.
you finished?
-- i'm in antiques --
cut the shit, huh? i'm not a criminal. sorry. i shouldn't've --
before you were born.
yeah. i pretty much figured that.
hey, hey.  looking up the street:
huh?
how much money you think we could take that guy for? chuck, with the boat. figure i owe you one. frank can't believe it. he stares at roy. then back on the phone:
what's his last name?
how do you spell it?
where'd you find him?
cheetah's?
i know what it is. what's he do?
he's not connected, is he?
sonovabitch didn't even tip.
more. music to frank's ears. roy keys the ignition.
we'll pull the jamaican switch on him. he knows you, so you're rope, i'm inside. think he knows anything about international finance? -- he moves briskly through --
i'd like to access my safe deposit box. j-215.
where? where else. one hour. he hangs up. a knock at the door. roy looks alarmed. he just got off the phone with frank -- who else could that be?
you just in the neighborhood?
huh?
so what's going on?
take off?
you wanna stay here?
these're just for -- i gotta go. i got a business meeting.
antiques wait for no man. is it okay if i leave you here?
there's a couch. if you want to sit. or there if you prefer. or the couch.
you want me to pick up anything on the way back? ice cream?
what?
new york?
chocolate. don't open the door for anybody.
old?
how long's he been inside?
you got your lines down?
not just now. the stripper departs, passing frank.
good to see you, bob. at the bar. he missed you come in. frank nods, then whistles to a passing waitress, loudly:
let's sit. they do. frechette starts off his barstool toward them. roy monitors his approach.
on my next drink. another stripper passes, and roy's distracted an instant.
he's piqued. you good to go?
just say yes, okay? so long, bob.
huh? oh, it's not for me.
angela? she sleeps atop the couch, arms and legs splayed every which way. roy approaches, sets down the ice cream, and -- for the first time in his career as parent -- finds a blanket to drape over her.
go to sleep.
good. i sold a nice piece. angela smiles, half-asleep. he starts to go.
you'd have to ask her.
that's what makes me good at it.
do we have to do this now?
shh-shh-shh. conscious of angela asleep inside, roy slides out the door and closes it behind him.
push it to tomorrow. lunch. let his greed meet his imagination.
you sure i can't give you a ride home?
who? oh. a business associate.
frank.
i didn't not want him to see you. shouldn't you.  eat eggs or something?
she mad?
when's that?
today's thursday.
you've got stains.
in your carpet.
and that i have a fourteen-year- old girl i barely know living in my house.
but i've got a -- there's a big piece coming on the market i'm brokering and -- it's just not a good time.
as honest and open as possible.
who's that for?
do you?
this one's better.
bob tells me you're a yachtsman.
i get seasick in the tub.
thanks. i gotta fly in two hours. the cast iron stomach again.
phoenix. a client's setting up a funding account to bridge the pound and the euro, i've got to hold his hand. hon: could you heat this up a little, please?
for some folks, money is a foreign film without subtitles. anyway, to the business at hand.
i have one rule, chuck: simple is safe. i'm going to tell you as little as possible about me and what i do, but as much as i need to make you comfortable with what we're doing.
five thousand pounds sterling. one of the perks of working in the exchange program at a bank.
no one's in particular. just a little money unaccounted for, floating on top the books like a layer of cream.
it's a little more complicated than that but again: simple is safe.
as a bank employee any attempt i make to change currency is recorded and questioned. bob has a record. you, on the other hand, no one bats an eye. now i hope you have something for me.
congratulations. at today's exchange rate, you just made two thousand --
you have a daughter?
i have a fourteen-year-old.
 and everything smells like gum. how do you get 'em out of the house? mine just sits at home all day.
how much could you get your hands on? frechette smiles.
you gotta spend money to make money.
it's easier if i show you.
angela! angela, i'm back! angela? frank's here! angela?
she's not here. she must have gone back to her mom's.
i don't know. i don't know anything about her.
it's got nothing to do with us.
where have you been?
i've been waiting over an hour. where did you go?
where the hell were you? i want to know right now or i'm calling your mother.
why'd you sneak back in?
you didn't see my car? roy squats to pluck up specks of dirt angela tracked in.
listen, angela: i'm glad we met, but i've got a business, a partner, and i've got things a certain way, and that's it. so i think it would be better, for you most of all, if tomorrow morning i took you back home. roy brushes the dirt into a trash can.
you didn't do anything wrong.
angela! i wasn't kicking you out.
it's not that i don't want you.
will you stop? he catches her.
angela.
okay, okay. i'm sorry. i'm just.  not good at being a father, alright? you know? i barely get by as me. roy takes his hand out of his coat pocket to wipe a tear off her cheek. she recoils.
will you come back home with me? we can get pizza again.
you can stay the whole weekend if you want. she won't budge. roy doesn't know what else to offer but:
in case.
it's a little hard to explain.
nope. no bullshit. and watch your language at the table.
con artist. flim-flam man, matchstick man, take your pick.
my partner. my protege.
i told you: watch your goddamn language.
what?
you're funny.
i am not going to teach you anything.
because. you're a beautiful, bright, innocent girl, and i'm not going to screw that up like everything else.
what?
no.
no. it does pay. just not very well.
i'm not. believe me. it's not fun doing what i do. a lot of the time it's stealing from people who don't deserve it. old people. fat people. a lot of the time i feel sick about it.
then don't tell me.
no! final!
i'm not listening.
i'm not listening.
one thing! i'll show you one thing! she nearly jumps for joy. kisses him on the cheek, getting toothpaste on her face, then skips down the hall.
and then you're never gonna do it again. you're gonna forget it. agreed? but she's already frolicking into the living room.
rule number one. never work near where you live.
rule number two. don't write anything down.
stay in the car. stay in the car. she still follows. roy gives up.
i want to play this for the drawing on the twenty-second.
that's why i changed one.
you sure you're ready for this?
i'm glad i missed that day.
just the.  right. okay. most important thing you have to understand about this game is: ninety percent of it is variable. no matter how good your plan is, you almost always get thrown a curveball. so you have to be flexible, prepared to roll with anything. the one thing you can control, though, is who your mark is. that's your ten percent.
never play someone who's not buying what you're selling. what you're selling is you. an elderly couple separates whites and colors.
the older the better, but beware of couples. you don't want anyone whispering in your mark's ear but you. a boy in his teens returns her interest.
and, for god's sake, make sure the person you're conning isn't conning you. angela gives him a get-lost look, then turns to a middle- aged housewife loading three machines. angela approaches.
sure. i think it's metro.  roy hands her the section. the housewife opens it, passes angela the ticket. roy rises to feed a dryer .
any luck?
four out of five pays, you know.
call the number on the ticket.
good girl, watch the cameras.
you did very good. she leaps in the air.
one last thing.
go give her her money back.
i told you i'd teach you a con, i didn't say i'd let you get away with it.
now.
i have one question for you. and i want you to think before answering. did you feel better when you took her money, or when you gave it back? think first. angela thinks.
i'm not your partner. i'm your father. angela puts her feet up on the dash. roy doesn't mind.
it's strange. two weeks ago this was ancient history. now suddenly i have a daughter.
and i'm not.  scared shitless. that's good, isn't it?
i -- i took angela along over the weekend, selling a piece. sometimes in my business you have to create a value in something which really isn't there. what some people call sales, other people call.
i didn't know how angela would go for that. but she took right to it. she even helped out, this fourteen-year-old girl, working these people with me.
i really liked it. it was the best time we've had together.
she went home to her mom's. summer school.
i'll see you tomorrow. it's kathy, right? i'm roy.
as if someone would do that. when's his flight?
you plant this before the meet. and keep the table free. i'm here, you sit him there, back to the bar. otherwise we blow it off.
ernie.
what do you expect for fifty bucks? frank scans the place once more, a little nervous.
in the car. she gets in, looks at him, grins.
what would you like to do today, little girl?
you'll be back by dinner. what would you like to do? she grins even wider. roy blanches dramatically: uh-oh.
it's me, what is it? what?! i thought it wasn't 'til friday! well, tell him -- roy's face falls. angela, bowling in the distance, rolls a strike and leaps in the air.
there's no time. i gotta get the money, change, get ernie.  what time's his flight? roy's face falls. angela, bowling in the distance, rolls a strike and leaps in the air.
i'm sorry. it just came up. i gotta take you home.
i can't, uh, i just can't -- i can't do this. there's no time. i can't even take you home.
no. shit! he doesn't know what to do.
yes.
shit!
that's just my piggy bank. wait here. he heads downstairs. she follows, as usual.
i'd like access to my safe deposit box. j-215.
'cause it's a secret.
can i add an access signature to my account. the clerk nods, puts forth another form. roy pushes it toward angela.
do it. she does. back to whispers:
no. you don't have the pass code.
when i'm dead.
don't weep for me too much. now wait here. i mean it.
hey: you got today's times?
i told you.
i've been doing this a long time.
i told you: i don't like the outdoors.
these still make me look old?
you know what to do? you keep real far away from us. anything seems off, you get outta there. you see me tug my tie like this, you get outta there. he gives her two hundreds from his wallet.
take this. just in case.
what?
my back. strained it last night.
i was doing yoga. you mind if i sit there. the high back helps.
how are both of you? across the lounge, angela peeks out from behind a partition to watch roy, frank and chuck. a waitress delivers roy a club soda and departs.
i suppose ladies do. the queen before ben franklin. roy lifts his black briefcase onto an empty chair between them and cracks it open just enough for frechette to see: a newspaper. frechette pries underneath: wall-to-wall british pounds inside.
it always does. frechette reaches in to flip through a stack of bills: they're all real.
as long as you don't mind. roy closes the case and sets it down on the floor by his feet. meanwhile, frechette replaces it with a gym bag. as he unzips it, roy steals a glance at the lounge entrance: angela is entering.
you count it? frank nods. a pregnant pause. then:
it looks like we have a trade.
enjoy the caymans. don't get too much sun.
you do. just get up and take your new briefcase with you. when i leave, i'll take my new gym bag.
have a safe flight. -- and departs. roy and frank watch him go.
go with him.
walk him to the plane.
then walk him to the security check. frank follows roy's orders and chases after frechette. roy reaches under the banquette and grabs the briefcase there. a bag in one hand, the case in the other, he takes off in the opposite direction.
i saw her.
you can ask frank for his.
roll up your window! now! get down on the floor! angela does as she's told. his money ready, roy waits for the car ahead of him to pass through, but the attendant seems to be taking forever to make change. meanwhile, the other lanes are clearing up quickly. roy considers backing up and choosing another exit, but the minivan he passed now hovers behind him. he's trapped. and frechette appears in his sideview mirror, hustling toward him. at last, roy pulls up to the parking attendant, thrusts his money at her, then barks:
open the gate, please.
no! please open the gate. the gate comes up, but too late. frechette is upon them, on angela's side, yanking on the door, rabid.
dammit!
stay in the car.
stay in the car! roy gets out, slams the door, then reopens it, turns the radio on to an earsplitting volume, slams the door again.
i said 'walk him to the plane.' did you walk him to the plane?
did you see him go through security?
did you wait 'til the plane left the gate?
frank, my daughter was there today! frank looks away, chastened. says something half under his breath.
what?
how?
he won't. they never do.
then he'd have to explain what he was doing with eighty grand and a ticket to the caymans. we're not on the books. we're safe.
angela's never been arrested --
turn it off. she does. frank leers at roy: ask her.
tell him, angela, and let's get this over with. tell him you're clean. you've never been arrested, have you? angela looks from roy to frank to roy again. then blushes. and bites her lip.
you're fourteen! when did you have time to get arrested?
they called the cops on you for a pack of gum.
angela.
how long ago?
and they photographed you? they printed you? angela nods and bows her head penitently. roy, his hands slowly returning to his coat pockets, takes a stroll, super-pissed.
i'm gonna be gone for the next couple months. frank and i have some out-of-town work. she nods, hurt but trying to conceal it. tears form regardless.
i don't know.
you're getting in the way. okay? i thought maybe it could work out, but it can't. frank and i are partners. he wants you gone, you're gone. angela's lip trembles and tears faucet down her cheeks.
you wanna know why your mom left me? she left me because of you. so you wouldn't grow up with me as your dad. i am a bad guy. roy can't stand this anymore. he leans over her and opens the passenger door.
c'mon. your mom'll be waiting. angela wipes tears away. anger supplanting grief. she digs into her backpack, withdraws an object wrapped in an "la airport gift shop" bag, sets it on the dash.
what's that?
ange -- she spins on him, furious, tears streaming.
hello.
yeah.
no.
what time is it?
hold on a sec. he hangs up. doesn't move.
doctor klein, please.
i gotta talk to klein. is there a way of getting hold of him?
where'd he go? look, look: i need a new thing of pills. are you there at the office now?
shit, my phone's dying.
listen: can you let me in his office --
-- i know where he keeps them, or gimme klein's home phone --
-- i need to talk to klein -- the phone dies --
shit! -- and he hurls it against a wall.
c'mon, c'mon. a few customers look back at roy. he stares their glances away. soon he can wait no longer. he pushes to the front of the line, empty packet in hand.
hi, i need a refill of this. i don't have a prescription, but --
i know, but this is an emergency --
ever been dragged onto the sidewalk and beaten till you piss blood? that decides it: nobody's screwing with roy. the pharmacist scans the horizon for security, doesn't see anyone.
please. i need a refill.
my shrink, my doctor, he gave me these. they're samples of -- i can't remember -- prefex- something.
look: i have the packet --
-- so i'm clearly allowed to have them. i just need four or five of these to cover the weekend.
what?
no. my doctor gave it to me. prefex.
vitamins. you gave me goddamn vitamins. klein appraises roy: he is not to be trifled with right now.
i am sitting. a beat.
you are not asking questions yet. first you answer: did you give me vitamins?
why?
look at me. i'm a mess.
don't change the subject.
if i couldn't be an antiques broker?
i'm not a criminal. i'm a con man.
they give me their money.
i never took anybody who didn't let me out of greed or weakness. i've never used violence.
sure.
angela? fine. she wants back to her mom's.
do we have to talk about this?
because she hates me.
because i -- because i -- oh, christ, doc! i lost my little girl! i lost my little girl! dissolve to:
as of now. roy waits for frank's reaction: is he pissed?
consider it a parting gift.
thanks, frank. for everything.
i went to see a lawyer. he specializes in custody suits, that sort of thing. like when one parent wants to get joint custody of the child. there are things you have to do. file paperwork, blood tests, go before a judge. it would only be for weekends and some holidays to start.
i'd have to make some changes. for one, i'm gonna have to stop doing what i do for a living. honey, i'm sorry. i should have asked you first. she looks up at him, tears in her eyes, and throws her arms around him.
yes. i'll try, honey. i'll try.
you know, i should talk to your mom about this. let her know what i'm doing.
i know. but she should hear it from me.
they're messy, aren't they?
that's a good name. they both smile. a waiter pours angela more diet coke.
au revoir.
au revoir. au.  roy switches on a lamp, then leaps back: chuck frechette is sitting on his sofa. cigarette in hand, handgun resting on the cushion beside him. big smirk.
go wait in your room, honey.
what do you want?
you come anywhere near her --
how'd you find me?
there were no cameras in the lounge.
i don't have it.
four thousand. maybe.
the horse.
i'm out. i'm done with this.
angela, put it down, honey. i'll take care of this.
put it down, angela. don't make it worse. angela doesn't budge. a standstill. then, a small voice behind her:
quiet, frank. frank stumbles to his feet, aching, bloodthirsty. frechette, frightened now, moves his hand toward his gun.
frank: get his gun. frank hobbles over to frechette. roy holds angela.
it's okay. it's okay.
you know where the seven palms motel is?
get a room. ground floor if you have to go out the back. and wait there for me.
take her to her mother's. then you drive south and never come back.
take him to a hospital.
angela. angela? frank's gonna get you out of here, and i will see you in a day or two. it's gonna be alright, okay?
i know. honey, listen to me. you didn't shoot him. i did. understand? i shot him. right, frank?
you just sit tight, honey. i'm sorry i let you down. go. he closes the door. holds eye contact with angela as frank reverses and carries her away.
who are you?
am i under arrest?
who?
how long have i been here? how long?
i shot him. i shot chuck.
he was gonna shoot me.
before then.
i wanna see my doctor.
no, my doctor. my shrink. let me see him and i'll tell you whatever you want to know. bishop and holt exchange glances again.
hey, doc.
can we have a little privacy?
don't i have doctor-patient rights or something? holt laughs.
you do if you want what i know. they stare each other down. finally, bishop relents.
there isn't time, doc. can i trust you?
angela's in trouble, doc. if i don't help her, she will go to jail. please. help me help her. klein looks reluctant. roy's eyes plead.
you got her into this, too --
just make a phone call. klein thinks, decides: okay.
how are you at memorizing numbers?
the room of mr. cole.
my partner will answer the phone. ask to speak to angela.
tell her -- tell angela you have the pass code. tell her to write it down.
they're going to search you on the way out. klein nods: he's ready.
543-n7-942. again: 543-n7-942. say it back to me.
doc.
again.
that's all you have to do, doc. klein nods, tense, memorizing. roy lies back, exhausted but hopeful.
yo! hello! hey! officer maddox! could someone turn the a.c. back on?!
the room of mr. cole, please. c-
she's not here, is she?
angela?
the baby! you were gonna have a baby!
you were pregnant. she nods.
you were. tears come to her eyes, too, a painful memory. his last hope dashed, all the revelations of the day come to a point, and roy crumbles. he gasps for air, clutches his gut, and folds into himself.
afternoon.
help you with anything?
for your home?
big place, huh. you have a color in mind?
so you don't need much, you don't know what you want, but -- no price is too low.
you're my perfect customer. let's dig into the remnants .
let me guess. a lab. she freezes, recognizing his voice. she won't turn to face him, while he keeps his eyes locked on her.
my next guess.
we call it astroturf. c'mon, remnants are back of the store.
you folks just move in together?
big step.
-- might as well go swimming. the slacker laughs: that's what he was going to say. angela still won't face him.
that's a nice choice. durable. you barely notice stains it's so dark.
sticker's seventy-five. but i can knock off twenty percent if you pay cash. angela and her boyfriend mull it over, under their breaths, then agree: it's a sale. angela dips into her purse.
when did you start smoking?
i was missing a lot back then.
it's not that much different from the old one really. steadier. only been on it six months. they smoke in silence. what to say?
you working this guy?
no shit. you were good.
i'm surprised to see you here. figured you would have moved to, i don't know, hawaii.
she get better? i'm sorry.
you didn't take it. i gave it to you. she takes him in again: the new at-ease roy.
enjoy it. the slacker gets in. for a fleeting moment, angela and roy stand alone again before she gets in the car.
good to see you, too.
i know your name.