Zed HQ: a neo-Aztecy thingy, maraschino’d onto a residential box. Paul looks at Ana; she looks at him. They’re standing between the elevator and the penthouse door.
(backflash a week)
He’s watching tv, she’s painting her toes, they’re on the phone:
- Remember Saturday night. We have that dinner thing with Marbell at that writer’s apartment.
- Who is this guy again?
- Zed. That’s all I know.
- That’s all you know, Zed?
- That’s what Marbell calls him. He used to be a motivational speaker, Ziggy something. Pretty famous - infomercial famous anyway. He got into trouble with his bankrollers for a not-so-popular series of speeches. Then he wrote a book about Mt. Fuji or something, which took off earlier this year. Kinda unexpected.
- How does he know Marbell?
- I don’t really know.
- Do they? I mean, are they...
- No idea.
(and forward)
Paul reaches and rings the bell.
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