Pizza and Chinese.
Emma:
Make sense.
Jake:
The food’s here. I ordered Pizza and Chinese.
Emma:
I didn’t hear it arrive.
Jake:
Either time.
Emma:
Jesus. You knocked my ass out. Why couldn’t you have been this good last night?
Jake:
I’m allowed to have an off performance every now and then. We’ve only been at it every night since Monday.
Emma:
God, I’m going to miss this.
Jake:
Bullshit. You aren’t going anywhere.
Emma:
Tonight we do the deed. Then the transaction is complete. Just like I told you.
Jake:
You are the one that picked tonight. It could have been Tuesday if you were so anxious to go.
Emma:
I was still in court Tuesday night. And you were still in my house. Going through my medicine cabinet and panty drawer.
Jake:
I was enjoying myself.
Emma:
Wednesday didn’t happen either. It was raining.
Jake:
That had nothing to do with it. You showed up at my door. After that, we never got off that mattress.
Emma purrs, stretching on the mattress.
Emma:
Thursday was my place again. No point in driving to Bryn Mawr Academy from West Chester when your place is right here.
Jake:
Leaving us here since last night.
Emma (trying to cause trouble):
We could have gone last night. You weren’t very good.
Jake:
Meaning you could still walk afterwards? I’m sorry.
Emma:
Come back to bed. Punish me for my insolence.
Jake:
After the mission.
Emma:
I told you, I’m leaving. This is it, my precious little rock star.
Jake:
You aren’t leaving.
Emma:
Why not? Are you kidnapping me?
Jake:
You wish.
Emma:
I’d kick your ass.
Jake:
Yeah…well.
Emma reaches for her black negligee and pulls it on. She disappears through a door, presumably to the bathroom. Jake sits playing the guitar for a minute more, then gets up and waits by the bathroom door to ambush Emma.
Emma comes out, Jake pins her to the wall and kisses her.
Emma (pulling back, enthralled):
Oh, no, no, no. Got to wean myself off of this.
Jake:
This was never a business transaction. This is about your heart.
Jake touches her between the breasts, pointing; she bends his finger back until he cries out.
Jake:
I told you. This is Fate. I don’t call girls.
Emma:
I told you. This is Sex. It has been wonderful. I am going to marry a power broker and raise kids.
Jake:
The way you adapted to that mattress on the floor, you could have lived with me in the van in Europe.
Emma:
Europe ended. Even for you.
Jake throws Emma over his shoulder and carries her over to the kitchenette.
Emma (in mock distress):
What are you doing?
Jake:
Kidnapping your ass. Pizza, lo mein, or both?
Emma (amused):
OK…pizza.
Jake gets them both food, then walks over to the couch dumps Emma on it unceremoniously. He hands her a slice of pizza, then sits down next to her. He commences shoveling lo mein onto his pizza while Emma watches in amused horror.
Emma:
What are you doing now?
Jake:
Is this a trick question?
As he eats it, Emma watches him intently. He holds it out to her.
Jake:
Try it.
Emma hesitates.
Jake:
Go on.
Emma takes a bite.
Emma:
Yuck!
Jake (shrugs):
Your loss.
Emma:
That could be a deal breaker. If it mattered, I mean.
Jake:
Too late. Showed your hand.
Emma:
You know, I probably was the only one of those names you could have hit it off with. You wouldn’t have stood a chance with Jane. She only likes older men. I mean, A LOT older, to the point where it’s creepy.
Jake:
Like I said, you were the only one I had to call.
They both eat their pizza.
Emma:
She’s a spinster at age thirty-five. Lives at home, taking care of her parents. Probably always will. I think that piano was her last hope.
Jake:
It worked for you.
Emma:
Uh-uh. No man of mine puts lo mein on pizza.
Jake:
You should see the things they put on pizza in Germany and Holland.
Emma:
No, I shouldn’t. But I’m sure you didn’t mind.
Jake:
I adapt to my environment. But I look like an American. They could always spot me.
Emma:
Was that good or bad?
Jake:
Both. But nobody ever gave me any real trouble.
Emma:
Or when they did, you’d beat them up in the street.
Jake:
Once or twice. I did get kind of sick of lectures about how Americans don’t know anything about geography or other cultures.
Emma:
Well, that’s pretty much true, isn’t it?
Jake:
True, and ironic, since it’s their fault.