Stop the Wedding Page #3

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under control

and head back.

That word rears its ugly head.

What word, "nonsense?"

No, "control."

You cannot control

everything, Anna.

It's not about

control, em,

it's about protection.

He's a movie star.

He dates glamorous

Hollywood types.

What does he want

with a retired art teacher

from Seattle?

Maybe it's love.

No, it's not love,

I've met him.

He's a slick one.

That type of charm is dangerous.

I've got to figure out

what's really going on.

I'm not going to let my aunt

be another notch in his belt,

which I'm sure is Gucci.

It's fine,

I will work while I'm gone.

I have this under con...

It's fine.

This is family.

Boarding pass

and itinerary.

Just for

the wrong location.

Oh, I haven't given up

on that conference just yet.

Do you know, it's been

more than 20 years

since my mom died,

and he keeps finding

these women.

You know, sure,

they seem great at first.

They're beautiful,

and funny, and smart,

and then, bam, they hit you

right in the wallet.

Are you talking about

your dad's experience

or your own?

Both.

But I've learned

from my mistakes.

He never does.

What is it

that he's searching for?

If only I could

figure that out.

Oh, passion?

Love?

What everybody

wants.

Annabelle Colton,

north Seattle high,

class of 2002.

Cheerleader,

captain of

the debate team.

This has to be her.

It's right where

he rented the house.

Ah-hah.

And this is her today.

Annabelle,

a.K.A. Belle.

Beautiful, young,

and probably looking

to land a windfall.

But she is in

for a rude awakening.

I know, Gloria, but you have

nothing to worry about.

I am in constant contact

with his lawyer.

What can I say...

Oh!

I'm going to

have to call you back.

Great, phone's dead.

Why don't you watch

where you're going?

Well, the same could be

said for you.

Don't text and walk,

isn't that what people say?

Oh, I'm sorry,

I must've missed that p.S.A.

It doesn't matter anyway,

since you've killed

my phone.

I killed your phone?

You killed my shirt.

My favorite shirt.

That's your favorite shirt?

Doesn't even look like

a contender for "favorite."

I think you could do better.

Well, it's much nicer

when it's not covered

in caramel macchiato.

Yeah, well, so is my blazer.

Have we met?

No, I don't think so.

I think I'd remember you.

Did you just come in

on the flight from Boston?

San Francisco.

Huh...

So, what are you going

to do about my phone?

What are you going

to do about my shirt?

You going to

have it dry cleaned?

You know what, I would,

but my ride just got here.

Put some

club soda on it.

Problem solved.

Stick your phone in some rice,

problem solved.

Wish I could say

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