Woman on Top Page #5

Soak the French bread in the coconut milk.

the milk can penetrate its center...

- A whisky, please. | - Comin' right up.

Hey, man.

- Work it with your fingers till... | - Isabella!

- That's my wife! | - Hey!

- That's my wife! | - D'you work her with your fingers?

Bake until it forms a golden crust.

if you share it with someone you love.

And we're out.

Ladies and gentlemen, | I would like to make a toast.

To our cast and crew for | an unbelievably successful first show.

And, of course, to Brazil's own gift to us,

the extraordinary Isabella!

- Hear, hear! Bravo. | - Whatever.

You're gonna change my life.

Hey, taxi! Stop! Stop!

How could she? Squeezing her coconuts | for all the world to see.

Your girlfriend's a stripper, mon? | Mine, too. You get used to it.

There she is! Stop! Stop! Stop!

- Isabella! | - Oh, my God.

- Toninho! | - Yemanja be praised.

I need to speak to you... alone.

Izzy, I'll be right here.

- What happened to your face? | - What happened?

- I was defending your honor! | - My honor doesn't need defending.

Oh, no? I travel half the planet | searching for the Isabella I know and love.

And I find you on TV looking so...

You're looking...

You look beautiful.

Like when we first met | and I made you my wife.

Your skin tasted of salt, | and your hair held a scent of cinnamon.

And when you kissed me, | your lips burned with chili pepper.

It made my head spin.

Now here you are. | Come home with me where you belong.

I belong where I choose to be. | And I choose to be here.

Do you also choose to dress like this? | It's not proper, not in your condition.

- What condition is that? | - Married to me.

Funny. You don't act married.

For three years I've been lying | flat on my back for you. Three years!

Not to mention that | I never get to drive anywhere!

You know, I'm not some thing | that can be moved around like a puppet.

Fine. From now on | you can move wherever you like.

Isabella, I swear on my mother's grave, | you are the only woman I ever loved.

Your mother is still alive.

That's not the point. You can't leave me.

You're my wife.

Goodbye, Toninho.

On your mother's grave?

Honey, please!

Mon, dis not gonna be so easy.

Isabella? Are you there?

Madame Oliveira! Alberto.

- You remember me? | - Of course. Your show is the talk of the town.

It's an honor | to have you here in my restaurant.

- But not in your kitchen. | - Excuse me?

Jeanne Moreau.

- Jeanne Moreau? | - It will come back to you.

Certainly, madame.

- So what was that all about? | - Nothing.

- I'm being bad. | - You, bad?

That's hard for me to imagine.

Thank you.

You don't have to buy me flowers. | This is not a date.

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