Nice talk, Mayor. Home run.
Iím counting on you, Brent.
He keeps moving past the pool to Celeste, who has her hand on the dark, handsome WAITER'S chest.
There you are! Larryís been worried sick about you.
Bullshit. Heís not even here.
(to the waiter)
I better make the rounds.
As he moves off Ė-
Canít blame a guy for trying.
Where is my prick husband?
Come on, Iíll give you a ride home.
EXT. CANYON NEIGHBORHOOD Ė NIGHT
Napolitano walks Celeste, arm in arm, to a Lexus parked in the driveway. A valet approaches, but Napolitano waves him off.
Itís right over here.
As he opens the door for her --
No driver tonight?