Confessions Of An American Bride

Ever since I can remember,

there's been one constant in my life...

... one dream, one image

I've clung to:

Me, as a bride.

Come on, honey.

Your friends are waiting.

Have fun.

- Trick or treat.

- Hi.

Maybe it's because, in life...

... as much as you want the nougat

and caramel deliciousness of candy...

Oh, hold on.

... sometimes, you get stuck

with the apple.

But your wedding day will be perfect.

And the dream of that perfection

sustains you...

... through all of the crappy Halloweens

life tosses your way.

All women, no matter how enlightened...

... know exactly what their day

will look like.

And while looking back

at what I once saw as romance...

... might make me shake my head...

... by my 20s, I knew just what I wanted:

A church wedding...

... and an outdoor reception that would

make the cover of Town & Country.

All that was left was

one tiny detail:
The groom.

I dated a lot, and I mean a lot.

Not in a slutty way...

... but in an if-you-want-prince-charming-

he's-not-gonna-find-you...

... you're-gonna-find-him

kind of way.

That's my floor. Sorry.

Good morning.

Yes, the offices

of Barrett & Sussman Advertising...

... the brain trust behind

catchy jingles, fun slogans...

... and those TV ads

you don't want to flip by.

Everything I ever wanted

out of a career.

Perfect.

Except for one thing:

Mitchell Stone,

head of my account team.

The word "inclusive" was left out

of his vocabulary.

But "self-centered" and "egomaniacal"...

... those words he clearly

had no problem with.

Settle down, people.

Okay. Good news, team.

Standard thought the idea of a carb-light

cereal line was, quote, "inspired. "

They want a third-quarter launch,

meaning our job must be done by July.

A liaison from our team will be working with

their new products people immediately.

Easy choice.

The idea was all yours, babe.

- Samantha.

- My big break. This is it.

- Pass these out.

- This isn't it.

Standard is the biggest account

our company has been up for in a long time.

We nail it, we're heroes.

We blow it, all of our asses

are on the line.

Therefore, I will be acting

as liaison, personally.

I can't believe it.

Up until a week ago, Stone thought "low

carb" had to do with car repair.

What's it gonna take

to make him notice me?

Someone just needs

to set him straight.

Mr. Stone, hi.

I should be liaison.

I mean, it was my idea, remember?

To appeal to the female demo.

That's how I envisioned this entire...

There's no I in "team," Sam.

I know, but look, you've been liaison

on everything this year.

You must be overwhelmed.

And you said it,

all of our asses are on the line.

So make it my ass.

It's best for everyone's ass.

And if you don't see that, then...

Then...

Well, then you're an ass!

Maybe I should rephrase that.

I didn't say to insult the man.

Ben, you will not believe

what I just did.

Remember when I said

I had to find my prince charming?

Of course you do.

It was, like, two minutes ago.

Anyway, I forgot to mention

that I found mine:

Benjamin Rosen.

I met Ben at Nancy's 30th,

two years ago.

He seemed so sexy, suave,

in control.

I know, I know.

Not exactly a Clooney move.

But it didn't even faze him.

Because just about everything fazes me.

It was undeniable sparkage.

The rib eye does look delicious...

...but I had a big lunch.

Maybe I should just have a salad,

something light.

Not that I'm food-obsessed.

Because I'm not.

When you have a heavy lunch,

it just settles...

I don't like to eat

on first dates either...

...but I'm hungry.

So how about we pretend

this is a second date...

...and we'll starve ourselves

another time.

Now, I've had the rib eye here,

and it is too good to pass up.

And, apparently, so was he.

From there on,

we clicked in every way possible.

Hey, I didn't want you to think

I was easy.

Now, don't think Ben was perfect.

No guy is.

He had his rough spots too.

Hey, do I have lipstick

on my teeth?

Damn.

But he learned quick.

I can remember the exact moment

when I decided to take that risk...

... and really let Ben in,

to really trust him.

What's up?

I just hate this song.

It was the theme song at homecoming

my senior year of high school.

Rough night?

Because I'll find the guy

and kick his ass.

Or administer a sharp tongue-lashing,

depending on his size.

No, it's nothing like that.

Just I was into that whole

rah-rah, school-spirit thing.

You know, I did all the decorations

and brought in the sand...

...and made the fake palm trees.

And after all that work,

no one even asked me to go with them.

There was nothing to say...

- ... so Ben found something to do.

- Keep coming.

Keep coming.

And open your eyes.

Okay.

It was amazing.

The sign, the sand, the palm tree.

He got every detail right.

Except for one.

This time, I had a date.

A date I knew

I never wanted to let go of.

Sam, wait.

Stone needs you to drop this off

at the Grand Hotel for a client.

- What?

- I offered to do it...

...but he insisted it was you.

He was very specific.

- You're kidding.

- I wish I was. Sorry.

So now I'm the courier?

Great.

Fabulous.

Hello?

Speedy delivery?

Hello? You know,

your door's open.

Left hand, ring finger.

That's where it goes.

You imagine a moment all your life,

and trust me...

... whatever you think you'll feel,

ain't nowhere near the truth.

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