Last Time Forever

BLACK. WOMAN (V.O.) You can't trust anyone... 1 INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY 1 A cheap short-stay motel room. A strip of daylight shows between drawn curtains at one of the windows. A woman is sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to us. She's on the phone. We track slowly toward her as she speaks. WOMAN (into phone) There was a time when I trusted my husband, but I can't anymore. (listens) I think he's seeing another woman. (listens) Well, I'm told that you're very good at what you do. (listens) That's fine. What time? Okay. I'll be there. We are in a close shot now. The woman hangs up the phone and turns around, and we see her face. She's beautiful. She's in her early thirties, very well-put together. Her name is GLORIA CONOVAN. GLORIA How was I? Sitting in a chair, across the room, in the corner, is a man. His suit jacket is draped over the arm of the chair and his tie is loosely knotted. He has a wary look. He's about thirty-five. His name is JOHN MACDONALD. JOHN ...Good. He lights a cigarette. GLORIA Can I have one of those? 2 JOHN I thought you quit. GLORIA (smiling) I guess I'm just not good at giving things up. She rises from the bed and crosses the room. He shakes a cigarette loose from the pack. She takes it, holds it up to her lips. He lights it for her. She smokes in slow, steady pulls. GLORIA (CONT'D) I really am trying to quit. JOHN I can see that.