INT. STEVE’S APARTMENT
Steve sits on his kitchen counter, holding Linda’s card. Bailey sits on the opposite counter, drinking coffee. Between them is a wall of shame – – photos and clippings and Elvis sightings ripped from the tabloids, etc.
Even her handwriting is cool.
I wouldn’t call her yet.
What would the King do?
Elvis would Lear jet her directly
to Vegas and rock. He wouldn’t get
near a phone.
That’s why he’s the King.
Janet Livermore swings in the through the full-size kitchen window. She wears an old white robe now, and holds a mug of coffee. Her body has a forward tilt . . . she’s always moving.
Janet, what’s up?
You guys never called me last
It’s my fault – –
No big deal. I went over to
I’m in love with my neighbor.
Bailey gestures to a breakfast spread, in boxes from his restaurant. She happily helps herself.
Oh. Roger from enrollment called
this morning. Somebody turned us
in on our student loans.
Give him a salmon, he’ll work it
I already did.
Bailey, some day you’re going to
meet someone you can’t tip.
People don’t tip enough. Let me
tell you. In France, where my
family is a major-major, everybody
tips for everything. If I tell
a good joke, somebody tips me.
Steve reaches in his pocket. Produces a dollar.
Here. For being you.
Janet, check it out. He met somebody.
When should I call her, for
You like her?
Call her today.
No way. Then he gives away all
Yeah, but he starts out on such
a cool note.
Steve looks at the card, as if it might contain an answer.
Never appear desperate.
Follow your instincts.