Secrets of the Summer House

OK.

Let's do it!

Are you there?

Show yourself, please!

This can't go on!

I've waited way too long to face you!

This should have been settled a long time ago!

Please! Let's end this!

I'm willing to do anything!

There must be a way!

No!

N-no!

NO!

Oh, I can't do this.

Do what?

This! Just being here!

I feel so vulnerable.

Where's George?

I don't know, but he better be dead or dying somewhere.

I can't believe he's not here!

It's early! He'll make it, don't worry.

In the meantime, relax! They're gonna love you!

I don't want them to love me.

I want them to love my paintings.

OK, Nick, you need to get over

this whole tortured artist thing.

I mean, look at me! You don't see me

worried about what the critics write about my plays.

Because you haven't had any produced yet, Margie.

Minor detail! The point is,

I don't write for the critics, I write for myself.

So if they hated your plays,

you'd just be content and keep writing them?

Yeah, of course I would!

That is such a lie.

Two things you need

more than anyone else I know are love and money.

Hmm.

Here she is!

The star of the evening, Nicky Wickersham.

Although after tonight, she'll be known only as Nicky.

Oh! Well,

you're assuming that I'll survive the night.

It's first-show jitters.

Nicky, you know Darren Peters?

One of Boston's most important art critics.

How do you do?

The... oh, sorry. This is my friend,

Margie Mancuso.

It's a pleasure.

Pleasure's all mine.

I understand the first axiom of an art show

is "never ask a critic what he thinks."

Well, I think that...

Celia has unearthed, shall I say, another...

marketable jewel.

Well, let's just hope

the market goes bullish on jewels.

Well, we'll know early Monday,

when Darren's review hits the stands!

Oh, I don't think you'll have to wait that long.

Would you ladies excuse me?

Yeah.

He hates me.

What are you talking about?

He was eyeballing you

like you were the only porterhouse

at a tofu picnic!

Tell her, Celia.

Would you try to look as if you want to be here?

Believe it or not, people don't want to buy paintings

off an artist who can't look at her own work!

I love my work.

Well, tell them, not me!

What does that mean?

I... I think what she's saying

is the only difference between an artist and a prostitute

is what they're selling.

And I'm not selling?

Name your price!

Damn the critics!

You're late.

The market dropped 200 points at closing.

We were losing a fortune!

Steven didn't want me to leave,

but I told him I had more pressing business

than, you know, half a million investors.

Well, those are the instincts

that make you a good investment broker.

Hmm!

Now you, go work the room!

Huh? Get out there.

A toast...

To the most beautiful woman in all of Boston,

and the man lucky enough

to be her husband for 365 days.

Mmm, 361. Our anniversary is next week.

Ah...

Oh!

I was saving this

till next week, but...

Seeing you work that room tonight...

Happy anniversary.

George!

Oh, go on, open it.

OK.

It's a brooch!

You don't like it.

No!

I mean, honestly,

it's like nothing I've ever seen before!

Oh, come on, Nicky!

That's just a nice way of saying that you hate it!

No, George! It's... I just...

I didn't expect for you to buy me a brooch.

I didn't! Well, buy it.

It's... it's a family heirloom.

It's been passed down for almost 200 years,

and judging by your reaction,

that tradition is soon to be eradicated!

Ouch!

No, I love it,

and I think that it is very beautiful.

OK, now you're just lying out of guilt.

I love it.

And I'm gonna prove it to you.

Well, how are you gonna do that?

Mmm!

Like this.

Oh!

Good morning!

Great morning!

Mmm!

What got into you last night?

You. And a bottle of champagne.

Oh. Well...

I have to get you drunk more often!

Don't count on it!

Once a year is good enough for me.

Hey!

Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude

to run out on a girl first thing in the morning

after she worked as hard as I did last night?

I have to get to work early.

Our big hitters took a bath,

and Steven is gonna be all over me

to get it back by the end of the day.

He puts too much pressure on you.

Well, it's called responsibility.

And I like it.

Hmm.

I...

Don't mess with my head, Celia.

Was it good or bad?

It was good!

And bad.

They didn't like it.

Oh, relax, Nicky.

It was a good first show.

You impressed all the right people,

but there were just some concerns

about your staying power.

So are you saying

that the critics didn't...

No, no, certainly not.

Oh no, Dylan. That's too high.

Bring it down, so we can light the corners.

Anyway, I think it's fair to say

that the critics were bemused.

Bemused?

Yeah, well, they don't know what to make of you!

They can see your talent, but they question your commitment.

It's all about ego and reputation.

Everyone wants to find the next big thing,

but no one wants to risk their reputation finding it.

And you didn't help matters

with your introverted behaviour last night.

I'm just really uncomfortable

talking about my art!

I don't want you to talk about your art with the critics!

Talk about sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll.

Show them your passion,

and they will talk about your art.

Remember something.

Critics survive by destroying

more careers than they create.

Go away,

and paint something that grabs you by the throat.

Or the crotch. I don't care.

Your next show is much more important than your last one.

It always is!

My next show?

Of course.

I'm gonna make you famous

no matter how much you fight it. Now go!

Hey!

What are you doing home so early?

What happened?

My, um...

My father died.