Original subtitles

Los Angeles.

Very neat, Stella.

Business life.

Your red shoes.

You want to know my secret.

It's odd.

When I read your ad, I'd been trying unsuccessfully to work up the nerve to

my husband.

Maybe by telling you, it might help me understand.

Maybe that's what I'm looking for after all.

Understanding.

To do the right thing.

After you read the enclosed, you tell me.

Was it adultery?

Was it wrong?

October 24th. Another beautiful sunny day or so, they told me in the elevator.

By the time I noticed, it was already a dark, balmy evening.

Still no answer in the DX account.

Assholes. I've got another hour or two in Caligari and Spadora.

Jesus, Japanese lawnmowers, Italian socks, Indian deodorant, advertising.

Call me a masochist, but I love it.

I noticed this man in the window of the building that faces mine.

He was striking, mysterious looking, brooding, almost cruel.

I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I guess I was staring and he caught me.

His smile was... I don't know how to describe it. One of those grins that

sort of creeps up on the side of a man's face.

I don't know why, but only men can do that.

If there was an Olympic event for smiling, this guy would get the gold.

I was intrigued.

But more than intrigued.

I couldn't stop thinking about him.

I couldn't get him out of my mind.

It was like a continuous daydream. A teenage fantasy.

Wish me luck.

Hey, who is it tonight?

Charlie, that gynecologist from Tarzana?

His name's Charles, and he's very nice.

That just came in on the office back. There's no name on it, but it looks like

coffee for you.

See you tomorrow.

Have fun.

He found out where I worked and our office fax number.

I was being researched.

I was being dared.

My secretary thought it was copy for one of the ads I was working on.

What did she think it was for, the deodorant or the Italian sock?

He looked like a lawyer, maybe an investment banker.

Very sharp, sophisticated.

Everything about him exuded success.

I can't remember the last time someone dared me to do something dangerous.

It woke me up.

You know what's amazing?

You get married and suddenly it's like a door slams shut.

You forget that men still look at you, can still want you.

I didn't do it consciously.

At least, I don't think I did.

You know, I don't think that men shut off like that.

But women do.

A lot.

What? Nothing. I just love looking at you, that's all.

Do you look at other women?

Sometimes.

What do you notice?

First thing.

The neck.

I'm a neck man, definitely.

And then the legs.

I'm also a leg man.

So, you look at other guys?

Sometimes.

Does that bother you?

No.

I mean, they might have your attention for the moment.

Thought or a glance, but I have what counts.

I've got your heart.

And your mind.

Your body.

And that's what's important.

All day long I watched his office, wondering where he was.

Was he out of town?

At meetings in another part of the city.

Would he come back?

Did I want him to?

I cursed myself for not opening the curtains the night before.

Tell me your name.

I do.

I don't know why, but I felt safe.

There was a hundred yards and two plates of glass between us.

And it was my game.

I was making the rules.

I could stop it whenever I wanted.

I was in control.

I don't know what excited me more, the fact that he was watching me, tempting

me, or that I really didn't know what would happen next.

Either way, I was compelled.

Sweetheart, you okay?

The next couple of nights, I worked late.

He wasn't in his office.

At least he didn't turn the lights on.

But he was there.

I could feel him watching me.

I didn't mind.

I knew I could wait as long as he could.

That he'd show himself when he was ready.

We got the go -ahead on the DX account.

I stayed to work on the storyboard.

Amazing coincidence, huh?

Bullshit. I knew what I was doing.

I knew what I wanted.

Somehow I've always managed to play it safe in my life.

Girls prep school.

The right college.

Married to the right guy.

It's fine. Really, I know that. But I never took this kind of risk before.

And I never had this kind of freedom.

I was riding the crest.

Free falling.

It was exhilarating.

And I could take it.

as I wanted.

You know, you look beautiful tonight.

The good news is I brought all that excitement, all that energy home with

I couldn't get enough of Sam, or him, or me.

It was like we first met.

Passionate, torrent, unbelievable.

I had it both ways.

I had everything.

I just couldn't get his image out of my head.

His eyes, his chest, his hands, his legs.

The way his hair sort of stuck out over the years, just a bit.

Like a little boy.

When I was a teenager, my parents bought this house next to a boys' boarding

school.

My bedroom window looked out on one of the dorm houses.

Every night I'd leave my curtains open just a little bit.

I knew they were watching me.

I'd play these stupid games. I'd pass by one way in my robe, then back the other

way in my slip.

Yet in all the years we lived there, out of all those boys, only one had the

courage to knock on our front door and introduce himself.

And on the day before he left school for good, he just wanted to say how much I

meant to him.

I don't know what I'm trying to say.

No, that's not true. That's a lie.

What I'm trying to say is that it excited me then

and it excites me now.

Who is she?

His wife.

A girlfriend.

His secretary.

A whore.

Whoever she is, she's not part of my fantasy.

For the rest of the week, I worked with the curtains closed.

I was curious and terrified.

I knew that if I succumbed, if I opened those curtains, I'd be sucked in.

And I dreaded where it would end.

Mm -hmm, mm -hmm.

Necessities. Doesn't care about the other stuff.

All right.

It's dark as hell in here.

Leave them closed.

Necessities. Doesn't care about the other stuff.

All right.

It's been a week since I last opened the curtains.

He is relentless.

Where are you?

Open your curtains, please.

Touch me, fuck me, double dare me, double dare.

For the game to remain interesting, the players have to keep

raising the stakes.

So, take my hand.

Please.

I dare you to make love to me in the backseat of my car.

What would be the perfect end to the perfect game?

No one will ever know.

I... I can't.

I'm not very good at playing games.

I've never even been to Las Vegas. I don't even own a deck of cards.

It's a wonder I've lasted this long.

I'm cashing in my chips.

From that night on, his life stayed off.

I still thought of him.

His beauty, his arrogance, his sexy grin.

I had expected him to pressure me, but he didn't.

Which, if the truth be known, really disappointed me.

For a long time after, at night, when I closed my eyes,

He was the last thought I had before I drifted off to sleep.

And the first thought I had in the morning when I woke up.

What we had affected me like a drug.

It very quickly became habit for me and was very hard to break.

The question that still haunts me is that even though we never really

was it cheating on Sam?

I think it was.

So, what do you think, Stella?

Looks like Diana's really crazy about her husband.

Makes sense to me.

Question is, once you're married, do you put your sense of desire on hold?

Does it automatically shut down?

I don't think so.

It's a sense of adventure.

Nobody wants to give that up.

The real question is, where do you draw the line between window shopping

and putting down your credit card?

Hell of a world, Stella.

Hell of a world.