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Jordan Almonds
Scene 1: In the Breakroom
(Greg, an attractive man in his mid to late twenties, is sitting at a table in an office breakroom with a mug of coffee, sipping slowly and staring off into space. John, a middle-aged coworker, walks in and straight to the coffee machine.)
John: Hey, Greg!
Greg: (looking up, startled) Hmm? Oh. Hi, John.
John: You okay ?
Greg: Yeah, yeah. Just a little stressed.
John: Oh, really? Not getting cold feet, are you?
(Brandi, a plain girl in her early twenties, enters stage right, carrying an empty mug. Hearing the conversation, she pauses just out of sight of Greg and John, listening and waiting for the proper time to walk in.)
Greg: What? No, no. Just, with the Wheaton case, and...you know, all the planning...it's hard to find time to relax.
John: Yeah, I know what that's like. Tracey would've killed me if I'd taken such a big case the week before our wedding.
Greg: (forces a laugh) Yeah. Katie's...well, she's okay with it, as long as I don't miss anything big, you know?
John: You're a lucky man.
Greg: Yeah. ...Yeah, I am.
(Brandi enters nonchalantly and goes straight to the coffee machine, which John is still standing in front of.)
Brandi: Um...excuse me, John.
John: Brandi!
Brandi: Hi. Do you mind--
John: Greg, do you know Brandi?
Greg: (smiling politely) No, I don't.
John: Greg Sampson, Brandi Engler.
Brandi: Hi. (still trying to get to the coffee) John, if you wouldn't mind--
John: Brandi's in charge of company events.
Greg: Really?
Brandi: Just logistical coordinating.
Greg: That's interesting.
Brandi: Not like being a lawyer.
John: Come on, Brandi. We get you in a meeting, you'll give all these guys a run for their
money.
Brandi: I don't know. The Wheaton case--
John: Of course you could!
Brandi: ...Thank you.
Greg: I'd imagine your job requires plenty of coffee, Brandi.
(John glances over at Brandi, notices her empty mug, and moves hurriedly.)
Brandi: (pouring herself some) I drink my fair share.
John: Don't we all. (Checks his watch.) Whoops! Looks like I'm late for a meeting with
accounting. Nice talking to you both. Good luck this week, Greg. (He exits)
Greg: Thanks, John.
(Brandi sips her coffee and sits down next to Greg, reaching for a magazine across the
table.)
Brandi: Thank you, Mr. Sampson.
Greg: No problem. Caffeine is an urgent matter. And please. Call me Greg.
Brandi: Thank you again.(She tosses her ponytail over the shoulder near Greg and looks
down at her magazine.)
Greg: Is that...(sniffing the air, points to her coffee) Did you put almond extract in that?
Brandi: Uh...yeah, is...that a...problem?
Greg: Oh, no, it's--
Brandi: Oh, I'm sorry! I forgot! You're allergic to almonds! (She draws over to the other
side of the table)
Greg: Yeah...I am. But...it's fine as long as I don't touch or eat them. How did you know I
was allergic to almonds?
Brandi: Oh. Yeah. For last month's gala, I got a list of all the allergies on staff for the
caterers.
Greg: Oh. That's a strange thing to remember.
Brandi: I...have a...really good memory...?
Greg: Okay.
Brandi: I...should get back to work.
Greg: Nice to meet you, Brandi.
Brandi: Yeah, you too. (Exits.)
(Greg looks a little confused, then reaches for the magazine she left, stares at it blankly for a few seconds, then puts it down and exits.)
Scene 2: Preparations
(Greg is sitting onstage with his laptop, typing furiously. Katie's voice comes from
offstage at first, shouting to be heard.)
Katie: Greg, I'm leaving in five minutes! Can you have the guest room ready by the
time I get back?
Greg: (absentmindedly) Sure!
Katie: Is that 'sure I'll have it done' or 'sure I'm too focused on my case to listen to you
right now?'
Greg: Of course I'll have it done!
Katie: Have what done?
Greg: (stops typing, tries to remember) The...
Katie: (entering) That's what I thought.
Greg: I'm sorry. It's just--
Katie: (half annoyed, half amused.) I know. The Wheaton case. Can you just have the
guest room ready for Jess when we get back?
Greg: Right. You're going to the airport.
Katie: To pick her up, yes.
Greg: Okay. Just...make the bed, and...?
Katie: Tidy it up.
Greg: Okay.
Katie: And can you start wrapping almonds?
Greg: Almonds?
Katie: You know, the Jordan Almonds? Traditional wedding favors? We're getting
married in three days?
Greg: Yeah, but--
Katie: What, Greg?
Greg: ...Nothing. (He moves his computer, stands, and kisses her forehead.) Go, you'll be
late. I love you.
Katie: Love you too. I'll be back in a few hours. Bye. (She exits)
Greg: ...Bye.
Scene 3: Nerves
(Brandi is in the breakroom, absorbed in a magazine. Greg enters and pours himself
coffee. He starts towards the table, then notices Brandi seated. He looks back the
way he came, then back at her, before sitting down.)
Greg: Good morning, Brandi.
Brandi: (looking up) Hi, Greg.
Greg: How are you?
Brandi: I'm good. (looks back down at her magazine).
Greg: Are you busy planning the Christmas party?
Brandi: At the moment? (Indicates the magazine)
Greg: Point taken.
Brandi: But yeah...but probably not as busy as you are.
Greg: No, I'd imagine not.
Brandi: I mean...with the Wheaton case and all.
Greg: And my wedding.
Brandi: Yeah. That too.
Greg: Hey, Brandi?
Brandi: (nervously) Yeah?
Greg: How did you remember I was allergic to almonds?
Brandi: I--
Greg: Nobody has that good a memory.
Brandi: (sighs) I don't know. I mean...you're—I just remembered.
Greg: Did you remember what Mark from accounting is allergic to?
Brandi: Look, Greg, I don't want to seem creepy--
Greg: I'm sure I've heard creepier.
Brandi: I just...I'm really interested in your work. Nobody else could have closed the
Stanford case as fast as you did. I mean, I'm not a groupie or anything, I just
remembered because...well, you're kind of a role model of mine or...something. I
wanted to go to law school. I only took this job to give me some experience and
maybe help pay my way, but my boyfriend—...well, I'm doing this
for a while.
Greg: (amused) I've definitely heard creepier.
Brandi: ...Sorry. Sometimes I ramble when I'm nervous.
Greg: I didn't mean to make you nervous.
Brandi: You didn't—I just--
Greg: I'm sorry.
(awkward silence. Brandi looks confused.)
Brandi: So...I should probably get back to work. (she stands, walks towards the coffee
machine to refill)
Greg: Brandi, if...if you're interested, I'd be willing to talk over points of the Stanford
case with you.
Brandi: I...really? You wouldn't mind?
Greg: No, of course not. You're a good kid and I don't mind talking about myself. It'd
have to wait a few days, but if you don't mind...
Brandi: Not at all! I'd really like that.
Greg: Yeah.
Brandi: (casually) How's the Wheaton case going?
Greg: I probably shouldn't talk about it.
Brandi: Right. Of course. Sorry.
Greg: No problem.
Brandi: Thank you so much.
Greg: Of course.
(awkward silence)
Greg: Weren't you...going back to work?
Brandi: Right. Yeah. Thanks. (She exits)
Greg: (chuckling) You're welcome.
Scene 4: Wedding Dress
(Katie is standing onstage in a bedroom in her wedding dress, looking at herself in the
mirror. Greg enters.)
Greg: Oh, sorry! (Looking at her) You look--
Katie: Get out! You can't see me!
Greg: (covering his eyes) Why are you wearing it then?
Katie: I'm a girl, okay? I want to look at myself in my wedding dress for a while.
Greg: Okay. I was just getting my briefcase.
Katie: Get to the desk, then open your eyes. And what do you need your briefcase for?
Greg: I...uh...I thought I'd stop in at work for an hour or so. I just want to go over some
notes. Unless you need me to do something else.
Katie: Greg, are you serious? Our wedding's tomorrow, and you're going over case notes?
Greg: Katie...
Katie: Keep your eyes covered. It's bad luck!
Greg: Okay.
(He crosses to the desk, facing away from her, and stands, looking at his briefcase.)
Katie: Look, if you really need to go over these notes, you can. Just...I feel like this case
is more important to you than our wedding.
Greg: (starts to turn, then thinks better of it and remains facing the desk.) Hon, I swear
it's not. I just don't want to get in the way. Is there anything you need me to do
here? Because I'll stay if you need me.
Katie: Well, did you ever wrap the almonds?
Greg: (freezing) I asked Jess to do it.
Katie: Are you serious?
Greg: ...Yeah?
Katie: See, this is what I mean. Greg, do you know how many of my friends have told me
I'm insane for letting you take this case during our wedding? All of them, okay? I
don't feel like it's fair for me to say you can't, and one of the things I love about
you is how much you care about your work, but when I ask you to do this one
little thing, and you don't? Really, Greg?
Greg: Hon, I--(turning to face her)
Katie: Don't look at me!
Greg: (turning back) Katie, I'm--
Katie: Really, Greg! I get that you have this big case and I've been really understanding,
but I can only stretch so far.
Greg: I know, but--
Katie: I'm sick of your excuses!
Greg: You haven't even heard it yet!
Katie: I don't need to!
Greg: I'm allergic to almonds.
(Silence.)
Katie: I—You—Oh my God...I...I'm sorry, honey. How could I forget that?
Greg: It's no big deal. Really.
Katie: No. Come over here.
Greg: I can't look, it's bad luck.
Katie: Greg, come over here.
Greg: (holding his briefcase up so he can't see her dress) If you insist.
Katie: I'm really sorry. I've been really stressed too. I shouldn't've been taking it out on
you.
Greg: I understand. Don't worry. I should've reminded you.
Katie: No, I...I'm really sorry, honey.
Greg: Katie, it's fine. We're both stressed, I understand.
Katie: Okay. Well, you go finish those case notes, okay? I want you to be completely
focused tomorrow.
Greg: Okay. Thank you, hon.
Katie: Yeah. So, I'll see you tomorrow?
Greg: I'll be the one at the end of the aisle.
Katie: I think I'll recognize you.
Greg: We'd hope. I love you.
Katie: I love you too.
Greg kisses her cheek and exits stage right. Katie exits stage left.
Scene 5: Potential
(Greg and Brandi are sitting at the table in the breakroom, both with coffee, and papers spread out in front of them.)
Brandi: But that deposition shouldn't have been admissible in court! It's full of hearsay. Did you guys decide to screw Article I of the Federal Rules of Evidence?
Greg: I—wow. You've...really got this stuff down.
Brandi: Oh...well, I study a lot.
Greg: And you're not in law school?
Brandi: I—No. My boyfriend doesn't think it'd be that good for me.
Greg: Excuse my saying so, but I don't think he knows you that well.
Brandi: Well, we've been together three years.
Greg: Oh.
Brandi: ...Yeah.
Greg: You know, it's funny? Sometimes a stranger can see things about you that even the
person you're closest to doesn't see.
Brandi: ...Maybe sometimes.
(Silence)
Brandi: Congratulations, again. On the wedding, I mean.
Greg: Thanks.
Brandi: Should you really be at work today?
Greg: I had to go over some notes.
Brandi: ...Okay.
Greg: What?
Brandi: Just...I don't know. If I were getting married, no way would I want my fiance
working the day before the wedding.
Greg: Yeah, I get a lot of that. Katie's pretty low-maintenance.
Brandi: That's nice, I guess.
Greg: It is.
Brandi: ...I would be a little nervous though. If my fiance really wanted to go to work, I'd
be questioning his feelings for me, you know? (laughs, tosses her hair)
(Greg is silent and looks down. Brandi glances over, sees him, smiles a little, then hurriedly changes her facial expression before speaking.)
Brandi: Not that you—I—Well, I wasn't trying to...sorry.
Greg: (softly) Don't worry.
Brandi: (drawing slightly closer to him, crossing her legs) You know, it probably just
means that I'm really insecure.
Greg: (lost in thought) Yeah. I...well...
Brandi: I mean, of course your wedding is more important to you than the Wheaton case.
Greg: (still absentminded) Yeah. Yeah, of course.
Brandi: Unless...you're having second thoughts?
Greg: (suddenly snapping out of it) What? No. Of course not.
Brandi: Good. Just making sure.
Greg: I—uh--I should go call Katie.
Brandi: (smiling) Go ahead.
(Greg exits. Brandi stands and looks after him, making sure he's gone. Then she leans
down and pulls his briefcase up onto the table, opens it, and pulls out some
papers. She begins reading, and pulls out her cell phone.)
Brandi: Hello? Mr. Evans? I have the Wheaton files.
(Lights out.)
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