Okay, do you hate me
because I can't come to your birthday thing this weekend?
It's fine.
I mean, I want to be there, Ami, I do, but I have arbitration,
back-to-back client meetings,
- plus 150… - Red light.
It was yellow.
You know, I do all of this for us.
For you.
Woman, I already told you, I literally do not care.
Sheesh. Guilty conscience.
Okay, so who else do you want to invite to this big birthday bash?
Maybe Mrs. Fossen?
Your violin teacher?
She is a thousand years old and near dead.
- She's fun. - Okay, so, so far we have,
uh, you, your nanny, and Mrs. Fossen.
Do you think we can invite anyone under 65?
Kids from your school?
Come on, like, give out those cupcakes.
Let's see what happens.
You want me to buy friendship with cupcakes?
Well, bribery works. Plus they're fucking good.
Is there any chance Uncle Sebastian might be able to come this weekend?
How come you guys never hang out anymore?
I thought you two were like besties.
You know, sometimes people's lives just don't mesh.
He helped bring you into the world, and I will always love him for that,
but sometimes the best thing you can do for someone
is just to let 'em go.
Especially if you're going to choose to marry a crystal meth addict
who's dumb as a duvet cover, just saying.
Crystal meth is a hard road.
It really is. Not here for it.
- I'll never let go of my bestie. - Okay. And who might that be?
My Phil-Phil!
Ami, you are not besties with your nanny.
You two are totally codependent.
It's sick. It's not healthy.
O-o-okay.
Bye-bye! I love you!
Happy birthday!
Oh.
Honey, you forgot your cupcakes!
He doesn't know who I am.
After 38 years of marriage.
Yesterday, when I went to visit him, he thought I was the nurse.
We're so sorry, Juliana.
Hardest part is that I still love him.
Even though I want to divorce him.
My daughter is against it.
She's his appointed guardian
due to the fact that he's cognitively impaired.
And she is… she's refusing to alter the prenup,
which we signed, like, 40 years ago.
If it's not too painful, uh, we'd love to have a sense
of what your lives were like together,
your relationship over the years.
I was 18 when we met.
A freshman at UCLA.
He had just started his residency program.
Oh, it wasn't just that he was brilliant, which he was.
Brown, Dartmouth, UCLA residency.
Oh, but he was warm, funny.
He cared about everyone.
We got married when I was still an undergrad.
As soon as I graduated, I discovered I was pregnant.
My life became about supporting him.
I lived through him, in a way.
His exciting life became my exciting life.
We were always a team. I never felt taken for granted.
Which only made him getting diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's
that much harder.
And that was six years ago.
Is he still at home?
Uh, no. Um, a year ago, I moved him into The RiverRock.
I-it's a beautiful facility.
So why divorce him?
He's there. Why not just go about your life?
That's what my daughter thinks too.
She says, uh, "You don't have to abandon Daddy.
You can just do your own thing."
But no one understands.
As long as we're still married, I can't just do my own thing.
I'm not free. I'm not free to pursue my own dreams.
Travel the world like he did. Make new friends.
I'll always feel like I'm on call.
Responsible.
I don't want to be responsible anymore.
This prenup is highly inequitable if honored.
- Damn. - It leaves Ms. Morse with very little.
She deserves more.
On the subject of people getting what they deserve,
Em, we have to talk about it.
About what?
About the cameraman getting what he deserved?
Well, you doing okay?
Cool as a cucumber.
Justice prevailed, as it always does.
Uh-uh. No, no, no, no, no.
Okay, let's get off of me
and focus on somebody else's problems, okay?
Okay, uh, I think the daughter's going to come around.
She has to.
Ms. Morse gave, what, 40 years of her life to this marriage.
She, uh, surely is owed more.
For better, for worse.
In sickness and in health.
Those words matter.
They mattered to me when I said them.
And if she didn't mean them, she shouldn't have gotten married.
And she certainly shouldn't have signed a prenuptial agreement.
Well, on that, I agree wholeheartedly.
I mean, how much of our business is busting these things up?
The vast majority of these prenups
are overreaching, unfair, inflexible,
and nine times out of 10, hurtful to the woman.
It sets up a bad power dynamic from the start
and ends up bleeding into everything else.
That's good. Best strategy here is heartfelt persuasion.
Okay, so, we gotta get the mother and daughter on the same page,
both singing "Kumbaya."
Liberty, you take the lead on emotional appeal.
Just don't let them catch wind of, you know…
What?
Well, that you're about to sign a prenup of your own.
I most certainly am not. I meant what I said.
What's the point of getting married if I'm just going to hedge my bets?
Guys, I have waited my entire life
for this moment to come along, and I'm committing to that.
To that… love.
And what about Mr. Reggie?
Does he feel the same way too?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
Hi. Hi, I'm so sorry I'm late.
The 405 was an absolute nightmare.
You're sweating. And you're late.
Don't let it happen again.
Today's mediation involves New York resident, Eric Dunkin,
who is suing Los Angeles resident, Willow Fallow,
for fraud, reputational damages,
defamation, malice, and invasion of privacy.
My purpose today is to assist the parties
in coming to an agreement, albeit a non-binding one.
Ms. Dome, let's begin this morning with your declaration.
Thank you, Mr. Rhodes.
Wait, are you…
Are you fucking crying?
I'm so sorry.
I'm sorry. It's been a very hard week.
So sorry.
Excuse me. I apologize for my lawyer.
I understand this is unprofessional.
Seriously, what's wrong with you?
What is wrong with me?
I'll tell you what's wrong with me.
Nothing.
Unlike you, I am a fucking human being,
so excuse the shit out of me.
I'm sorry. I think I need…
Fire me? Too late, bitch. I quit.
Peace out. Rot in hell. All that shit.
Goddamnit.
If I approach, you going to go all Kim Jong Un on me?
Yeah, well, I am one neutron away
from, uh, reaching critical mass, so back off.
Win or lose,
there's nothing like a post-arbitration cigarette.
Mm-mm. I quit, sadly.
Right. So did I.
I've got a kid.
You know what?
Only a child could set off the kind of fireworks I just saw in there.
Yeah, well…
How old?
Twelve… Today.
We are, uh, sharing my midlife crisis.
I raised my son on my own.
Felt like we were both playing Parent Edition.
You have a someone?
A housekeeper named Philomena.
There was my kid's father.
Whose… Whose fucking face just popped up in there
a-as a fucking iPhone memory,
which is why I lost my shit, so…
And, uh, he was a friend.
He was a good friend.
Here.
What is… What is this?
In case you ever need a backup.
I've got my own shingle now.
You'll get through it, with a little help from your friends.
The trick is…
knowing how to ask for it.
- Hi, darling. Sorry I'm late. - Oh, no. It's fine.
I've been flat out all day.
Mm. Hi.
I put in some appetizers.
Oh, great. I'm starving.
I know exactly what I'm going to have: the burger.
Wait, where is it?
They've gone vegan.
- Vegan? - Yeah.
Tomás? He's an institution.
Th-th… He's got a Michelin star.
There'd be riots on the streets, I swear.
I've… I've heard the, uh, Mushroom Wellington is superb.
- Mushroom Wellington? No, no, no. - Yeah, awesome.
This is a crime. Oh, my God.
I was dreaming about that burger all day.
Vegan.
Well, whoever's responsible for this should be locked up in a dungeon.
Well, clink, clink… I'm an investor.
- Come on. Really? - Yeah.
- Oh, God. Really? - No, big… big investor. Yeah.
No, I'm… I'm… It's… I love it. It's great.
- I-I do. - You love it?
Well, I don't, but I love you.
That's all I needed to hear.
Mm.
- I'm sorry. - Mm-mm.
What's that?
Uh, I was going to wait 'til dessert,
but seeing that we are going on this big adventure together,
I figured we should have the talk.
Sure.
Right.
Right, yes. Your prenup.
Our prenup, and this is just a starting point.
Like, everything's negotiable.
In fact, you know, most of what's in there
is actually to protect you in case my business goes belly up.
I don't want you saddled with all that debt, you know?
That's thoughtful of you.
What do you pay for this place?
Or, to be more precise, what does she pay for this place?
$150K a month.
Icing.
- Another glass of wine. - Does a chicken have lips?
I don't know the answer to that.
Yes. Oh, yes to another bottle.
Right away.
So, uh, no more surprises, right?
No confessions you have to make to Mother Superior?
No cheerleaders you might have fingered and forgotten?
Because we are two weeks out, and I will fucking strangle you myself
if you tell me there's nothing and it turns out there's something.
Am I making myself clear, Sir Fucksalot?
That's pretty funny.
I'm sorry. I have to be real here.
What is happening with your hair?
- My hair? - Yeah, your goddamn grease helmet.
It-it looks like an oil slick.
I mean, J-Jesus.
- I do wash my hair. - Really? In what?
Leftover baby oil from a Diddy freak off?
You'd like that, wouldn't you?
And what is with this bun?
First… baby needs to wash it.
And then, baby needs to blow it dry.
- And then, and only then… - Mm-hmm.
…is Tarzan ready to go into mediation
with the rest of the civilized world so we can take his ex
to the goddamn cleaners.
Why don't you wash it for me?
What, like, uh, Out of Africa or some shit?
- I have no idea what that is. - Oh, my God.
Are you a moron? Kill me.
Seriously. Kill me now.
Why don't you show me?
Show you what?
Show me the sink.
It's cold.
Oh, God, grow a pair.
Hold this.
Mm, that feels good.
- Does it? - Yeah.
'Cause if you give me scabies, you're a fucking dead man.
Alright, buddy.
Nice.
Good.
Feel.
Nice try, buddy…
but no.
Last week, I might have, but, uh,
this week I'm trying to be a good mommy to my little princess
before she writes a tell-all book about our relationship.
You sure?
It's been grand.
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Officer, was I speeding?
Officer Przezinski.
Przybylski.
Pryzylski. Wow.
You got all the consonants in one name, don't you?
Are you Polish? You must be.
Can you step out of the car, please, ma'am?
Follow my finger, please.
How much did you have to drink?
Oh, come on, Officer Pritzky.
Can you walk towards me?
Well, you bet I can. Watch me.
Yeah.
You got any music?
'Cause I move much better that way.
- Blow… - Always.
…into the breathalyzer. Now.
You made bail. Let's go.
Thank you.
Well, this isn't exactly how I envisioned litigating our first case.
- You said if I needed help. - Yes, I did.
And yes, you sure as fuck do.
Philomena. Hi. Hi.
No, I know.
Um, just tell her I'll be home in, uh, 30 minutes.
And, uh…
Philomena, why don't you take tomorrow off?
And thank you for, uh,
always being there, for being someone I can count on.
Hello?
If I were you and I just met me, I would run far, far away.
And if I had just met you, I would.
But I have been watching you for years, Carrington Lane,
and I have been so struck by your composure under pressure,
your analytical skills, and… your resilience.
Why are you being nice to me?
No one is ever nice to me. What do you want?
Listen to me. We can keep going at each other's throats,
or we can team up.
Oh, my God, are… Are you asking me to be your partner?
Yep. I see what you're going through.
Join forces and I will see to it
that you actually see your kid before she's old enough to start
her own law firm.
Yeah, but, uh…
what's in it for you?
Allura Grant,
I'm tired of her poaching my high-profile clients
and undermining my credibility in court.
Her undermining you?
Th-that-that's like a mosquito trying to topple an elephant.
Whatever. I want her squashed.
You're representing Chase Munroe.
I think I can be of help with that.
You see, I've got so much dirt on Madam
that I could start a goddamn garden.
And trust me, nothing good's going to grow out of that.
I think I just met my soulmate.
Oh, my God, my hands are so sweaty.
Like, why am I so nervous?
Because this is going to change everything.
This is going to make it real.
Okay, so if I don't tell him, is it, like, against the law or something?
There's no affirmative legal duty
requiring you to inform Chase that you're pregnant.
You're right.
Chase does deserve to know, unfortunately.
He does. You got this.
Thank you.
Jab, jab, cross.
One more.
Alright, good job.
Yo, what up, Milan?
Hi. It's been a minute.
Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. It's… It's been weird times.
Definitely that.
So what's up? You good?
Yeah, I'm fine.
Chase, I'm pregnant,
and, um… with a baby.
And it's yours,
if that wasn't clear.
- Are you there? - Yeah, sorry, um…
Just… I'm going to have a kid.
No. I'm having the kid.
I don't know what you're doing.
But look, what do you need? Money? 'Cause I got you.
Okay? Support? Emotional? Physical? Spiritual?
This is my baby, okay? Mine.
And I'm going to do it my way.
Okay? I was just calling to let you know.
And now you know.
Does Allura know?
Milan?
Fuck!
Okay, if I may begin, firstly,
by saying to you, Ms. Morse,
how sorry we are to hear about your father.
Oh, I don't think my mother would agree with you on that.
I mean, this is her ticket out.
- Right, Mom? - Bethany.
Well, rather than letting a judge adjudicate
this deeply personal matter,
I think it would be preferable, if possible,
to come to some sort of agreement outside of the courts.
And why would I do that?
Why would I reward my mother for abandoning my father?
He doesn't even know who I am.
You don't know that.
You don't know that he doesn't recognize your voice
or your touch or your smell.
You don't know.
Does he recognize your voice?
Your touch?
Sweetheart…
I'm not going to disappear.
Not from you. Not from Daddy.
But I want to travel like he did.
I want to see the world like he did.
And I think that he would want me to.
Don't you?
You're his voice now.
You are his heart.
Oh, honey.
Well, I think some good movement was made today, don't you?
I'm not sure. She could still use the prenup to punish me.
It's hard to tell.
I hope you don't mind my asking,
but why did you agree to sign it?
Oh. The truth is, we didn't give two hoots about it.
It was something we did for his parents.
They insisted on him having one
because of all the money they poured into his medical training
and what they knew he'd inherit from them.
Mm. But could you have said no?
It was paperwork.
Once we were together, it never crossed our mind.
We were committed to each other, not a piece of paper.
The Optimized
Using Your Menstrual Cycle to Achieve Success and Fulfillment.
It's a work of genius, I'll have you know.
Don't take this the wrong way
because I love what's going on here.
But what is going on here?
We are here because I have an assignment for you.
And then, we are going to Disneyland.
- Disneyland? - Here's what's up.
You and me are the same.
We would much rather suffer in silence than admit we need help.
I know the school you're in sucks, and those kids suck.
And you are leagues better than all of them in every way.
And you're going into the seventh grade,
which means you have an opportunity to transfer.
- Benedict Hall. - It's a good school.
Full of kids like you who are curious, independent,
real human beings.
But… it is competitive.
So, I am going to help you write an essay
that is going to beat the pants off every other applicant.
- "An influential person." - Mm-hmm.
"Adversity they have faced that has made them who they are today."
Okay, let's game it out.
Brainstorm. Ideas.
Whoa.
You want to write about how Mommy used to be a cutter.
Too macabre?
No. It's great. It's dramatic.
It is deeply personal,
and I love that you want to share that, how I overcame it.
How would you open?
I could define what cutting is, why people do it.
I'm asleep, and I am already reading the next candidate.
What have I taught you about grabbing an audience?
What is the hard question you have to ask yourself?
How it changed me?
There it is.
How did it?
Since you told me about your cutting,
I've been scared that you'd do it again.
And since it's just us,
what would happen to me if you unalived yourself?
That's it… Good girl.
Write about that.
I'll start with the gloves.
About how you like to wear them to cover the scar.
Say they're veal calf leather.
That'll throw 'em.
Hey.
Hard at work?
Just reading.
Instagram.
Thanks for coming.
Well, I was in the neighborhood.
Nice write-up in the Times, I see.
Vegan Week was a success.
For those willing to try it, yeah.
This week, a client of ours…
they've been married 40 years.
- He's got Alzheimer's, early-onset… - Mm.
…and he doesn't even know who she is anymore.
That's horrible.
When she talks about him, all I can see is…
…what she really wants more than anything
is just to have time together.
This thing we have…
it's something, isn't it?
Yeah.
And here I was, about to blow it over a stupid piece of paper.
I made some tweaks and… combed its hair.
I think it's good, fair.
Well, as good as it gets.
Thank you.
And you're sure about this?
Because I will throw this in the shredder right now.
- You just say the word. - No, you're right.
The last thing I want is a garage full of supplements
when your stock price takes a nose dive.
Smart woman.
Oh, hey.
Pursuant to Section 15 of the contract,
we'll initiate proceeding immediate injunctive relief.
Allura.
Listen, some shit is about to go down,
and I need you to stay calm, okay?
- These pe… - Allura Grant?
I'm Detective Connie Morrow, LAPD.
Two orders of business. First, a warrant.
Computers, laptops, digital devices,
personal notes, legal pads.
This warrant is useless.
Those documents and devices are all protected
by attorney-client privilege.
One hundred percent.
You need a separate court order if you want to access
anything that falls under that protection.
- Right here. - Mm.
What's this in regards to?
The murder of Lloyd Walton.
Isn't there somewhere ludicrously opulent in this office
where you and I can sit and talk?
You and your colleagues have been playing detective, I see.
You used a proprietary image search software
to track down Mr. Walton?
We looked into Mr. Walton
because he committed a violent assault,
and your bureau was content to do nothing about it.
And then he ended up dead.
You do see how that raises a few red flags.
Not really.
Circumstantial evidence, it doesn't prove anything.
Our investigation was performed as a team,
so why are you only talking to me?
Oh, don't worry, I'm going to sit down with your colleagues.
No one's off the hook, but this is why I started with you.
Your phone pinged a cell phone tower in Sherman Oaks
at 12:02 a.m. on the night in question.
Very near Mr. Walton's home.
See, the thing about circumstantial evidence
is you stack up enough of it and it starts to look a lot like proof.
My former secretary is pregnant with my former husband's baby.
Against all logic, a part of me is really connected to her,
to the kid.
I've been helping out. You can talk to her. Milan.
Mm. I'll be doing that.
Nope. Over. Done.
Everybody out.
Why are you in here without counsel?
Because I have nothing to hide.
All the more reason to lawyer up.
- Detective. - Ms. Standish.
You cannot possibly believe that that piece of street trash
was killed by one of these women.
And your theory is what?
That they've all suddenly gone rogue?
Hit the streets guns a-blazin'?
You too have a connection to Mr. Walton, no?
A class action suit you were involved in against his father.
Oh.
Believe you me, my dear,
if one of us were to commit murder,
we'd be much, much better at it.
You know the drill:
mouth shut, ranks closed.
Let's go.
Oh, hello.
Are you here to bring charges against me and my family?
Only serving Martinelli's tonight.
Cheap. Non-alcoholic. Did someone have a little incident?
Okay, drop the stone,
or you'll shatter your beautiful glass house.
The drunk tank. Oof, baby girl.
Well, at least I was wearing shoes. West Hollywood, circa 2012.
Need I remind you who answered the phone at 4:00 in the morning?
I had shoes.
They just weren't my shoes.
Oh, my God.
Could I ask you, honestly,
'cause I was trying to remember, on the way over,
but… when did it get weird between us?
What, with us? Oh, we're going there?
'Cause we got through a lot.
We got through the non-traditional
girl-gay-family thing for almost a decade.
But what was the… the moment…
that we fell apart?
The moment I believe you're looking for
is when you sued my husband for child endangerment.
Well, let's not forget that he took an asthmatic nine-year-old
on a 14-mile hike in the Grand Canyon
and neglected to bring her inhaler.
Her backup inhaler!
Okay, so that was bad.
What is this? Why are you here?
Ami wants you to come to her birthday party.
Saturday, Magic Castle.
It'll be you, her, and the cast of Cocoon.
Well, I'm there. Of course I am.
So that's why you came over.
It's just, uh, this expensive olive branch.
I guess I just, for some reason,
I thought that I was getting an apology.
Oh, sweet Jesus, boo-fucking-hoo.
I'm so sorry I didn't bring my daughter over more often
when you were married to that circuit party cum dump
who was draining your IRA
so he could Hoover pink cocaine off a urinal at Boy Bar.
Wow. It is a gift, really, Carrington,
the pictures you can paint with your words.
Well, I just state facts.
No, you don't.
He's a personal trainer who, let me remind you,
I divorced over a year ago.
I miss her.
And yeah, fuck you, I miss you too.
But God, Carr, really, seriously, fuck you.
You can't just drop people like that whenever it suits you.
When you're there, you're so there. It's awesome.
And then suddenly, you're just gone.
It's like the sun has gone with you.
And nobody knows what they did or if you're mad at them
or if you just fucking forgot that they even exist,
and then, woof, here you are back again,
beaming, radiant, gorgeous, and like nothing happened.
It fucks with people's heads. It's not even the point anymore.
We're not sitting here playing Will & Grace anymore, alright?
There's her.
And I know, I know, I'm not her dad,
but she is biologically my child.
And I love her very much.
I know.
Sorry. I suck.
- No, that's not what I meant… - No, I do. I suck.
I suck at a lot of things. Being a friend.
Raising a daughter. You are right.
Everyone is right. I am too hard.
- Too blunt. I'm a bitch. - Mm.
An asshole. A piece of shit. It is who I am.
It's how I was raised.
I don't know.
But…
this is me trying.
I need help, Sebastian.
With her.
With, um… everything.
Because I want to be better.
I do.
Okay.
Well, I forgive you.
You fucking bitch, asshole,
piece of shit, blood clot.
That's disgusting.
Come here.
I need another Oxy.
Alright.
Here.
You don't look so good.
Bad day?
Uh, I think they're all going to be pretty bad from now on.
No. I'm sure that's not true.
We just have to soldier on through the ones that are.
Dina, I need to tell you something.
Something I should have told you before.
We're there, darling.
The end.
- Fade to black, roll credits. - No, stop.
Sam told me…
weeks ago…
"Get my affairs in order.
Say my goodbyes."
I wanted to tell you, but I just…
couldn't.
We'll see someone else. Find another trial.
There's no one else to see.
You need to be strong, sweetheart.
I need you to be strong.
Let me close my eyes just a second. I'm…
It's a little better.
I just have…