All language subtitles for Pretty.Smart.2021.S01E03.1080p.WEB.H264-CAKES

Well, it's breakfast on a Monday,
which means The Bachelor is on tonight.

It's been another dramatic week,
and the big question is:

Will the fact that Chelsea reads her book
while everyone has fun watching

ultimately affect Claire's decision?

Let's find out now...

at the smoothie ceremony.

- I'm not doing this again.
- Do you want the smoothie or not?

You know that I want it!

Solana.

Will you accept this smoothie?

Of course.

- Grant.
- Yes.

I'm so sorry.

Will you accept this smoothie?

Always.

Roomies, this is the final smoothie.

When you're ready.

Chelsea.

It has been a...

Give me the damn smoothie.
God, I hate Bachelor nights!

Good morning.

Have a good workout.

You go get them, tiger!

I saw that.
You're starting to like the gym.

Oh. Yeah, the endorphins are contagious.

That happens.

One time, everyone caught
the same horrible rash from the yoga mats.

- A staph infection?
- Not just staff, customers too.

Chelsea Morgan?

Oh, my God, it is you!

Margot! Margot Wainwright.

Quelle surprise!

I was grabbing a macchiato

when I looked and thought,
"Is that Chelsea from high school?"

The salutatorian to my valedictorian?

Oh, you, always bringing that up.
Our GPAs were neck and neck.

With one neck longer than the other.

- You're wondering why I'm in Los Angeles.
- I was not.

I'm in town shopping my novel to agents.

- Oh!
- It's looking highly competitive.

Some people are saying
I'm a modern-day Tolstoy.

Oh, well, you're certainly saying it.

Gosh, this time
it's just been such a whirlwind.

Maybe someday you'll understand.

Though I doubt it.

Oh, that reminds me!

I'm giving a guest lecture
at UCLA tonight, you should come.

Oh.

You know, Margot, I'd love to,
but I have plans.

Oh, of course, sorry.
How presumptuous of me.

You must have lots to do here.

The washing of the towels,
and the mopping of the sweat...

I wrote a novel too. Yep.

Yes, yes, I did.

Um, uh, that's actually why
I can't come tonight.

I have an event
for my novel that I started,

worked on, and finished. My novel.

This job at the gym
is purely for research purposes.

My book is about a woman

who is a competitive...

weightlifter.

A weightlifter?

I can't imagine
there's much of a market for that.

Well, there is, I sold it.

That's what I'm celebrating tonight.

Um, my boyfriend...

- Did I mention my boyfriend who has a PhD?
- No. Okay.

Yes, he has arranged an intimate dinner
at the house tonight

with my agent to celebrate
the contract signing.

He's hired a renowned private chef.
It's very chic.

Oh, quite impressive.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say
that sounds almost too good to be true.

Well, it is.

If you weren't busy tonight,
I would invite you to join us.

- I would love to come!
- You can't because you have the lecture.

It's fine. Malcolm Gladwell's speaking.

You know Malc won't say no
to an extra half-hour of stage time.

I really must run,
but text me your address,

and I'll see you tonight. Hmm?

Ciao!

No!

God, I can't believe I lied!
What was I thinking?

She's just so Margot.

When I got an A,
she would brag about her A-plus.

When I got into Harvard,
she called it a safety school

for people who couldn't get into Oxford.

I actually went to my safety school.
The Middleton Academy for Boy Models.

Go, Tigers!

Now she's in town shopping her novel

and all I've ever written
are three sad little words.

"It was Tuesday."

Hey, Tuesday's a great word!

Tuesday! Tuesday!

No, I think you've got something there.

Oh, God. She keeps texting me
for the address.

I'll just blow her off.

And watch The Bachelor with us.

Oh, yes, or I could get lost at sea.
Both great options.

Or you send her our address
and we make your lie a reality.

I'm not following.

It's called pretending.

So when Margot comes over,

we're all going to pretend
like everything you said is true.

You'll have an agent, a boyfriend,
a personal chef and a big fat book deal.

This is nuts.
Why am I even considering this?

Why am I still considering this?
Why have I not stopped considering this?

Do it!

Do it! Do it! Do it!

Okay, okay, okay!

- Let's do it.
- Oh, my gosh!

Margot will be expecting my lit agent.

Someone sharp, someone sophisticated.

Solana, you were a lawyer.

I'm on it, but I'll need
your full commitment

that you're not working
with any other agents.

This is all pretend so...

I need that commitment
in writing by end of day.

Okay.

Next, I told Margot that this would be
catered by a professional chef.

Claire, you think you can do that?

Sure, I've got tons of food
prepared for Bachelor night.

Remember, Margot's never met you,

so tonight, you're not my sister,
you're a stranger.

No hugs, no nicknames,
no trying to finish my sentences

- because you think we speak the same...
- English. Got it.

Okay. That just leaves the boyfriend.

I can play straight, but I'd need
a full two weeks to prepare.

Or I can be your boyfriend.

Okay. Yeah, that's perfect.

Yes, you will be the boyfriend,

and we live here,

and you're a brilliant PhD
in something Margot knows nothing about.

So we'll tell her you're a...

microbiologist.

Got it.

That leaves moi. What are we thinking,

choose the wig first
and let the character flow from there?

Jayden, we've been through this.

I love you, but you always go so big
and you give the whole thing away.

Not every character
needs a tragic backstory and an accent.

Maybe Jayden can do something small.

Yes! Like that time
I played a delivery man.

Who you turned into an Oklahoma yokel

who killed his own sister
in a silo accident?

Pop told us not to play in there.

But I just couldn't help myself.

Sign here to confirm receipt.

Jayden's out!
I'm sorry, it's just too important.

Oh, fine!

Okay, all right, the wheels are in motion,

we'll get Margot in,
she'll see my amazing life,

- and when she's squirming with envy...
- I'll bring out the contract.

The nail in the coffin.

And Margot will finally be jealous of me.

I think this will work.

This is never going to work!

Why did I think this would work?

Margot's intelligent.
Did I mention she went to Oxford?

Because she did!

I can't believe I was
desperate enough to agree to this!

Oh, God.

She's here.

Okay, I'm opening the door.

The door is opening.

The door is open. Margot!

- Hi!
- How lovely of you to come.

I wouldn't miss it.

And you must be the boyfriend.

Welcome to our home.

It's so nice to meet you.
Chelsea says you're a scientist.

Yes. I'm a microwave-ologist.

A microwave-ologist.

Yes, that is what I said.

Honey, why don't you check
on how dinner is coming?

Sounds great.

I'll miss you.

Okay.

Come on in.

I don't care what it costs, if Franzen
gets 20% on the back end, so does Chelsea.

Figure it out!

- Solana Castellano, Chelsea's agent.
- Nice to meet you.

I'm an author myself. Margot Wainwright.

- Oh, Margot Wainwright.
- That's right.

Never heard of you.

Hi, I'm the chef.

Barbie, Barbie Mattel.

Like the doll?

Your doll's name was Barbie too? Wow.

Why don't you tell us
what's on the menu, Barbie?

Totally.

Tonight we will be enjoying salami roses,
cucumber roses and rose water sorbet.

Why is everything rose-themed?

- Because of The Bach...
- The book.

Rose imagery features prominently,
and Chef Barbie...

Mattel was kind enough to allude
to the text through her culinary craft.

- Thank you so much.
- No probs, Chels.

She's very informal.

Yes, well, we're a little
more casual here on this coast.

I popped a zit
for my gardener this morning.

A glass of your finest
yet cheapest wine, Howard.

We have a white blend, a red blend,
or I can blend you a milkshake.

Oh, Howard. I can't even pretend
to laugh at your jokes right now.

A white will do.

Make me a chocolate malt
while you're at it.

Rough day?

It hurts to be excluded.

You see, Howard, I'm the kind of person
whose light shines so bright

and then other people complain,
and they say, "Stop!

Our retinas are burning."

And it's like, hello, put on sunglasses.

Have you ever been rejected
for your gifts?

Gosh, yeah.

All the time. My mother and father
would sometimes ignore me...

They don't want me there, it's fine.

I'll just stay here and watch
The Bachelor pre-show.

Which is Wheel of Fortune.
Can you put it on?

Sure thing, Jayden.

And your chocolate malt.

Ugh.

This is disgusting.

Keep them coming.

Keep them coming.

I told Oprah, "Honey, don't beg,

you'll read
Chelsea's book when you read it."

I'm quite surprised, Chelsea.

I still think of you as that
little 17-year-old nipping at my heels.

Struggling to keep up, yet so determined,
despite all inevitability. Cute.

Chelsea's achieved
a lot since then. Haven't you?

Yes. I have.

From the onset, my novel
has been a shining success.

As soon as I wrote the first word,
the text simply poured out of me.

A seamless flow of creative energy.

Like a microwave.

It was selling the novel
that brought a feeling of gratification

far greater than the seven figures
that flooded my account.

Maybe one day you'll understand.

Though I doubt it.

- I think it's time to sign that contract.
- Indeed.

It's interesting, you mentioned
you wrote your novel quickly.

Yes.

That's so unlike you.

The Chelsea I knew
was always paralyzed by the blank page.

I recall the final
in-class essay in Honors English,

you were so fixated
on getting every word just right,

you could barely finish
the first sentence!

Needless to say, it's hard to believe
you finished your novel so quickly.

Well, that's what happened.
Will you excuse me for a moment?

I'm gonna go check on that contract.

The human head weighs eight pounds.

So what if the title is profane in Greek?
We'll get more press!

Hey!

What are you doing?
She can't even hear you!

Trust me! The more realistic this is,
the better you look. It's working.

Not anymore. I think she's onto us.

So, where did you and Chelsea meet?

The farmer's market.

Chelsea said it was the museum.

It was.

I was confusing the two
because isn't the farmer's market

just a museum for fruit?

Thank God you're back!

Oh, okay.

The contract is ready!

Great, let's get it signed
and send Margot off to her lecture.

Not before a toast!

- Oh, God.
- Okay, everyone take one.

- Thank you.
- It's so exciting.

- Chelsea...
- Mm.

writing a book has been a dream
of yours since you were a little girl.

Or so I imagine because I just met you.

But either way,

you really deserve
everything you ever wished for.

- And this is all I really wanted for you.
- Thank you, Barbie!

Oh, very moving words from the chef.

Can't wait to hear
what the boyfriend has to say.

Ding, ding, ding.

Right.

- To Chelsea.
- To Chelsea.

You wrote a book,
and we met at a museum...

and...

I don't know what else to say so...

Whoo!

I think that about covers it. Cheers!

- Congrats!
- Cheers.

Congratulations!

Ugh. Finally.

- Your signature here.
- Okay.

And initial here.

And here.

That was supposed to be a signature,
so cross that out,

initial the cross-out...

and then sign.

- And here.
- Oh.

You can have as much wine as you want,
but you've had far too much milk.

I'll be the judge of that.

I've had far too much milk.

Tonight on The Bachelor,
Hannah Z wasn't invited on the group date,

but she shows up anyway.

This is my time!
And I will not be excluded.

You tell them, Hannah Z.

You deserve to be on that group date.

You pull your Spanx up,
you let your light shine bright.

Howard! I have to...

Throw up.

Whoa.

But after that,
I've got a group date to crash.

My cousin knows Hannah Z.

Oh, my God, is she in L.A. now?

And your thumbprint here. And here.

And we're done.

Thank you so much, Margot, for coming.
What a wonderful evening.

Oh, Chelsea,
all this pomp and circumstance

has left my interest positively piqued.

I must see this manuscript.

Oh.

No.

You can't.

Because the contract stipulates
we're not allowed to release

any copies until publication.

Especially in Greece.

Yes, the novel is highly critical of...

yogurt.

But you should know, it's very good.

Wait, sorry, Barbie the chef read it?

No, I didn't read it.

Chelsea read it to me.

Oh, did she?

Well, then it's settled.
You can read it to me as well.

At least a passage or two.

You know, Margot, I would,

but unfortunately,
I don't have the manuscript.

Here it is, my darling.

Don't worry, it's just plain paper.

Thank you, Grant. So helpful.

Come, come, everyone. Let's listen.

Okay, all right, I guess I'll just read
a passage aloud from my novel

about a female weightlifter

- and roses and... Yogurt.
- Yogurt!

Thank you, Margot.

Oh, yes.

- "It was Tuesday."
- I love that part.

"Diane was finally able to steal away

from the Olympic weightlifting trials
to visit the gravesite.

In the pre-dawn light,
she approached Dimitri's headstone

with a single rose.

He had done all he could
to protect her from...

the yogurt industry.

Diane watched as the sun
made its ascent on the horizon.

She turned
and with resigned determination,

took her first steps into the future.

Her face awash in golden light

and the humble longing
for an unbounded tomorrow."

That was...

very...

good.

To be honest, when we spoke at the gym,
I assumed you were making it all up.

But now I see you really did
write a beautiful novel,

and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't...

jealous.

Oh.

Well, that was not my intention.

Don't sign that bloody contract!

This two-faced sheila
of a book agent will double-cross you

as soon as she gets the chance.

- Jayden!
- I'm not Jayden, I'm Braden.

Braden Bathwater!

The other book agent.

- Oh, God.
- Oh, no.

This is bad.

What's happening?
Why are you whispering?

Are we done with the characters?
Is Margot gone?

Wait, who's she? Who are you?

Hi. I'm Margot.

And this is amazing!

Oh, Chelsea, wow!

What a to-do.

And all so you could pretend
that you wrote a book.

Oh, how pathetic.

Yes! You're right!

Congratulations, Margot,
you are still more successful than me.

But you know what?

Maybe I'm okay with that.

Maybe I like working at the gym

and the little beeping sound
the thing makes when I swipe the cards,

and maybe I like living with these people

who care about me enough
to do something this ridiculous.

And maybe...

Maybe it's time for you to go...

because I wanna watch The Bachelor.

You want to watch The Bachelor?

Yes!

I'm tired of pretending to read while
I watch it out of the corner of my eye!

Oh, reality television, how simple.

I don't care what you think, Margot.

I love everything about The Bachelor.

The helicopter dates, the in-fighting.

The verbal gymnastics
of saying "I love you"

without saying "I love you."

The surprise concerts
by obscure country music artists!

And most of all,

I love the sparkly dresses!

Have a nice life, Margot!

- Yes!
- Yeah!

Oh, my God.

Ah. Crazy night, right?

Yeah. Yep.

Oh, sorry about that.

I forgot. You're not my girlfriend.

Yeah. So true.

Rose cake!

Inspired by your novel
and our favorite show.

And, Chelsea, can I just say?
You are a fantastic writer.

Oh, that wasn't writing,

that was just me making up
sentences out of thin air.

Isn't that exactly what writing is?

- That's a very good point.
- And I loved the way you read it out loud.

Yeah. That should be a thing.

- Like a sound book.
- You mean an audio book.

No, a sound book.

Oh, it's starting.

Is that Hannah Z
crawling through a window?

Yeah, she will not be excluded.