Ed and Diana drive under the LAX jetway overpass on Sepulveda Blvd, as a Western Airlines 727 crosses over the bridge.
Diana has an unlit cigarette in her mouth, while digging through her purse for a lighter. “S—t,” she says. Ed pulls out the car’s cigarette lighter.
“Thank you,” says Diana, firing up the cigarette with the lighter.
“You’re upset,” says Ed.
Diana makes a forced laugh. “Would you like a cigarette?” she asks.
“No,” replies Ed. “Those things kill you.”
“Yeah,” replies Diana, looking at her cigarette before stubbing it out in the car’s ashtray. “Nothing turns out the way you planned, does it?”
“That’s for sure,” agrees Ed.
“God, if you hadn’t come along,” says Diana, “I don’t know what…” She pauses, breathing rapidly. “Look, just get me home, okay?”
“Where do you live?” asks Ed. There’s a long pause. “Where do we go?”
“The Marina?” says Diana, with great uncertainty in her answer.
Ed looks at her, and nods.