(Flustered, clutching a briefcase) Just over to Canary Wharf. And please… step on it. My meeting started ten minutes ago. I swear, if I miss this pitch…
The driver takes a sharp turn into an underground tunnel. The lights dim. He pulls over next to a concrete wall.
(Arms crossed) Look, I don’t have cash for a scam. I have a corporate card and zero patience.
This isn’t Canary Wharf.
Isn’t it? You’re wearing a power suit but you’ve got nothing left. Come on. Five minutes. You’ll still make your meeting. I promise.
No. But you said you wanted a shortcut. Sometimes you have to… renegotiate the terms.
(The scene continues in the back seat. Kristine starts off hesitant, still talking about her presentation, but slowly gives in as the driver takes control. Her blazer comes off. Then the blouse. The camera catches her biting her lip, then finally laughing—a real, relaxed laugh.)
