Drop Dead Diva

That was me... Deb... see

until the day I died.

I thought I'd go straight to heaven,

but there was a bit of a mix-up

and I woke up in someone else's body.

So now I'm Jane,

a super-busy lawyer with my very own assistant.

I got a new life, a new wardrobe,

and the only people who really know what's going on with me

are my girlfriend Stacy and my guardian angel, Fred.

I used to think everything happened for a reason...

Whoo!

And, well, I sure hope I was right.

Ito tie a hammock on lazy afternoons.

And I want a swing set for the kids

and a big bay window in the kitchen

so I can keep an eye on them... and you.

Grayson, I want something, too.

Not only does Vanessa have Grayson,

she also has decent pitch and some pretty good moves.

It was just a dream.

No, it's never just a dream.

My subconscious is the only place

I can get in Grayson's face and tell him,

"I am your girl, not her."

Did you have spicy food?

Sometimes spicy food makes me have weird dreams.

No, the dream was not from spicy food.

It was from spicy text messages.

I've sort of been reading Vanessa's texts to Grayson.

Sort of? Grayson sat next to me at a staff meeting.

His phone was on the table, and the messages kept popping up.

Vanessa is beautiful and smart

and she TiVo'd the Dodger game for him.

I read that in a text.

The point is, any chance I had with Grayson is gone.

You know, as somebody in a relationship,

um, I could offer you some advice.

You kissed Stacy once. That's not a relationship.

But what's your advice?

Don't read Grayson's texts.

Good morning.

Good morning to you.

Are you ready for our morning run?

Our morning run?

No, no, Fred. I run alone.

It's my time to meditate, become one with nature,

and plan my day's outfits.

Bye. But...

Bye!

You know, I don't get it.

At this stage in our relationship,

we should be running together.

Should I buy her some flowers?

Too much? What should I do?

Well, you could start by putting on some pants

so that we can get to the office.

Fine.

Hey.

Can we drive by her and honk?

This is your classmate's blog?

Yeah. Madison Thomas.

She started "Mad-itude" last year,

and everyone in school reads it.

Somehow she got Abby's picture in a bra,

posted it,

and then invited her classmates to make comments.

This is just cruel.

It's not that big a deal.

And I don't need a lawyer. No offense.

Ms. Bingum, can you help us get this photo down?

Did you contact Madison's parents?

Her mother.

I mean, I assumed she'd be mortified.

Instead, she attacked me. "It's Madison's right."

She thinks her daughter has the right to embarrass mine?

Okay. What about the school?

The principal said his hands are tied.

The photo wasn't taken or distributed on school grounds.

He did ask Madison to take it down,

which she did ... for one night.

Then it was back.

Abby, you're looking at the camera

with your head slightly back...

oh, I totally know that pose.

You took this picture, didn't you? What?

I used to take pictures of myself all the time.

It's the best way to get an objective view of the outfit

and the head tilt happens naturally

as you try to work the lens.

Fine. I took it, okay?

Mom, can we please just drop this?

Wait. You took that picture and you... you gave it to Madison?

No, I... I... I e-mailed it to Charlie.

What?! Everybody does it.

Well... when we broke up, I guess he gave it to Madison.

Look, it sucks, I know,

but there are bikinis that show more.

I can't believe...

ladies... what do you want me to do?

Ladies...

I am going to send a strongly worded letter to Madison.

The threat of litigation should make her take it down.

Okay?

Oh, my.

Okay, ladies and gentlemen,

moving on, let's talk receivables.

Kaswell?

My personal-injury case just settled this morning...

six figures.

Not bad. Love those figures.

And we're on to new business.

Bingum.

You with us?

Yes. Yeah, I'm right here.

You have my total and complete attention.

You had an intake meeting?

Oh, right.

Um, new client, mom and daughter.

The girl's being victimized, um...

Um...

I'll just write you a memo.

Great. Love memos.

Sorry to interrupt.

Claire.

Well, this place hasn't changed at all.

Except for the new faces.

Good morning.

Love those earrings.

Uh, thank you.

This is Claire Harrison,

of the esteemed law firm Harrison and...

Me.

Jay, can I speak to you in private for a moment?

Yeah. Uh, let's go in my office.

Back to work, everyone.

Okay, here's the story.

Eight years ago, Claire Harrison left the firm

when she fell in love and married Simon bell.

He's the founder of Planet Green,

that company that makes overpriced organic cleaning products.

I know him!

I mean, I know what he looks like.

He is... The suntanned face

on my nontoxic, ozone-friendly,

non-animal-tested screen wash.

Yep, that's him.

Poor Mr. Parker.

Poor Parker?

Oh, yeah, he and Claire were hot and heavy

before she met Simon bell.

But, you know, those office romances never work out, right?

Okay, you all can keep gossiping.

I'm going back to work.

Oh, Claire would like that.

She still owns half the firm.

Doesn't draw a salary, but she's a 50% equity partner.

All right, why don't we all get back to work?

Thank you, gossip girl.

What are you doing?

Uh, Grayson's phone. He left it in my office.

There is a text message,

and I am going to return it... without looking.

Grayson's not in his office.

Then I will put it on his desk and leave it there,

without looking.

You looked.

It was from Vanessa.

It said, "thanks for taking out the trash."

That's not so bad.

And "I love you."

It seems like has it really been just yesterday that long?

We were celebrating our first successful motion to suppress.

You know, I think we celebrated on this sofa.

I hope I'm not interrupting.

Claire, Kim kaswell, sixth-year associate.

If you're here on a legal matter, I'm available...

it's a sensitive issue...

For Claire.

My husband cheated on me. I want a divorce.

I'm sorry. Don't be.

Simon's company just went public.

He's worth millions.

Well, as you know,

California's a community-property state.

You're entitled to half.

Except, as I was about to tell Jay...

We have a nupkin.

A-a what?

A prenup written

on a "Crazy Dave's Surfside Grill" napkin.

Claire. I know.

But when we got engaged, he was just this cute surfer

with big dreams and not a dime to his name.

One night, we went out to this restaurant

and he was being flirtatious with the waitress,

and I-I joked that he only wanted to be with me for my money.

He took a napkin and wrote...

"If we break up, what's yours is yours,

"what's mine is mine.