All language subtitles for Red_Shoe_Diaries_S01E02_480p_WEBRip_BTW_30NAMA

Los Angeles.

Very neat, Stella.

Business slide.

Dear Red Shoes, you want to know my
secret?

God, when I read your ad, I'd been
trying unsuccessfully to work up the

nerve to tell 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.

Asshole. 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

just 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 Torsana.

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.

Hey. What's wrong?

Nothing.

All day long I watched Ibaka, 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 most, 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.

It 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

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

It was like we first met.

Passion. Torrid.

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. Mm-hmm.

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.

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 it lasted this long.

I'm cashing in my chips.

From that night on, his light 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. It
was very hard to break.

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

touched, 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.