Original subtitles

Jumping is like betting.

You don’t have to, but you do it anyway.

I had jumped into a different career,

and tasted again that Junior Suite flavor

I missed so much.

I needed to try it.

To express my whole self.

You know what I learned?

That clothes and makeup, just like words and kisses...

are tools.

They're useful to deceive.

Would you follow me?

- And you are...? - I won't answer that now.

Don't touch me, cunt.

Want everybody to know you're a whore?

You've got the wrong person.

I followed you, I know what you're doing with that man.

Are you coming now?

BASED ON XAVIER VELASCO'S NOVEL

CHAPTER 5 NASTINESS AT YOUR DOOR

What do you want?

Fifty percent of your profits.

Why don't you spread your legs and get all of it?

I haven't introduced myself.

I'm Martha Ferrer,

I'm in charge of the customer service

where you practice prostitution illegally.

You can't treat me like shit.

You know my offer is good,

you can make money however you want to

and I'd give you an unlimited safe pass.

I won't give my money to a stranger like you.

Then do your business in another hotel.

Not the end of the world.

Until then, I thought I was my own boss.

Isn't that cute?

Lessons were pouring on me like rain.

And although I was ashamed, I stuck my chest out.

You know, my boobs

never go unnoticed, not even at my worst.

It's those hotels

his friend sponsors.

There must be a reason.

How are you, Mr. Secretary?

Ramiro! How are you?

Glad to see you.

- How was your trip, Ramiro? - It was very hot and sunny.

Yeah, we can tell.

Excuse me, gentlemen. I'll go to the toilet.

- Sure. - Excuse me.

The accountant called us

and gave us the papers with Mr. Alejandro Reyes...

You scared me, asshole.

What?

You and the Assistant Manager?

Why do I owe an explanation to a kid like you?

You wouldn't want everybody to find out.

I give him intel on politicians, okay?

You're a snitch.

If that word makes you hornier...

And the checks inside the drawer are your pay.

Do you fuck him too?

Yes...

but that's not part of the deal,

I think...

Well, I really don't remember.

Any else? They're waiting for me.

My dress!

Say it!

Say it!

I'll meet you in the car.

After many unsuccessful attempts I won't mention,

I was determined to know the shifts of that bitch.

I had to choose between money and living.

And I wanted the money.

The rest could wait.

I needed new...

selling spots.

I believed everything was possible, but quitting.

And my ambition led me to the most natural place.

Alcohol and solitude make the perfect target.

- Hey! - Let's go.

Can you imagine how shocked I was?

I couldn't believe New York treated me like that.

So, everything I've told you about

and the information on the assistant manager...

is confidential, right?

Relax, I won't get you fired.

Well, thanks.

But if this is about having sex at the office,

you know a bed works too.

- You know I like danger. - That makes two of us.

And how long have you been in this great business?

Two years.

Quite a while, right?

I wonder if someone, other than you, evidently,

would have found out about all this.

Does that make me special?

It makes you especially sneaky.

- Almost as much as me. - No, I'm a writer.

What's so funny?

Your perverted writer mind would love this.

Really?

Do you know what he likes to do in bed?

- Do I wanna know? - Of course!

He's a very sick person.

Come on! You're not that different.

Well, how's your novel going?

I'll meet the publisher tomorrow.

Really?

Great, but I'll read it before it gets published, right?

Not in a million years.

Why are you so weird?

I’ll take the deal.

You'll get me the best clients and I'll go straight to the room.

Are you free tonight?

Your man is still here.

I disappeared a few days, he wouldn't see me again.

Some days ago, he ordered room service

for 2 thousand dollars.

He was with another girl.

That man can be really profitable.

We shouldn't waste this opportunity.

All right.

What was your name again?

You don't need to know.

You're right.

...mexican whore...

Shit!

Do you know the sales index for fiction novels last year?

Yeah, I read something.

They went down 30 percent.

Not very likely to improve.

People don't like the smell of paper anymore.

That's why I want to do something different.

An impossible love story in a made up city...

That casually resembles Mexico City.

Listen...

This draft is very well written.

But readers don't care!

There's an interesting main character,

action, politic affairs, sex...

But there's something missing.

The truth.

Listen, I feel...

your sex scenes description is very vague.

You can't do that if your main character

is a business woman addicted to sex.

Can't you think of anything better?

Yeah, sure.

The thing is, the Assistant Manager sign them first,

send them to Human Resources and then to you.

Uh-huh.

Okay.

Take care.

Bye, have a nice day.

What's the matter?

Did you sell your novel?

Even better.

The publisher gave me a great idea.

Really? What?

I want to see you in bed with the Assistant Manager.

Yeah, you wish!

Look, you should be grateful

I let you write all the dirty stuff we do.

No one will know it's you.

Isn't your imagination enough?

No.

I don't know.

Hi.

I need your help.

Really? What do you want?

Do you know a man who passed out at the bar yesterday?

I work here, I know everything.

Well, he knows I'm a whore.

I need you to investigate him.

Hurry up!

- Aren't we partners? - Calm down.

Wait over there.

He's Mark Souvairan,

nephew of the French ambassador,

and he's staying for a week.

- A week? - Yes.

- And if he gives me away? - No, he won't.

Don't worry, he would't want to be connected to you.

He went mad yesterday.

That ass called me "fucking Mexican whore".

I think the barman knows.

No, don't worry.

If he was that drunk, nobody would take him seriously.

How can you be so sure?

Trust me, honey.

Do you have kids?

One. Alberto.

That's nice.

What?

Your face.

It changed when you mentioned him.

I think I only saw that once on my mom's face.

I had won the costume contest at school.

What's wrong with that?

She was only happy for the prize.

The money.

Do your parents know?

My parents taught me I had to cheat...

to make a living.

But now, I do it my way.

One day, you'll be grateful our paths crossed.

I hope so.

I'm Violetta.

According to you, when should you stop trusting?

Who should you trust?

How many of them would stab you on the back?

By the way...

this Mexican whore won't forget you can't get hard, asshole.

Have you heard?

What?

Remember we were the first to notify about the paid holidays

of the Secretary of Foreign Affairs?

Well, some politician assistant

claims Noemí was who filtered the information.

Is there any evidence?

The Assistant Manager admitted everything.

Did they fire him?

That's the point.

The Assistant Manager was fired, but she managed to escape

before the Secretary reported her.

Nobody knows her whereabouts.

I didn't see that coming.

None of us did.

More coffee?

No, thanks.

Fuck!

I'm not after you, but after him.

Really? Do you know him?

He's a scammer yuppie

who owns an important real estate agency.

I spent all my savings on an apartment he never built,

we went bankrupt.

You got screwed.

I can't even pay for my son's college fee.

I filed a report, but it was useless.

I'm sorry.

When I saw you two on the lift, I knew you were a prostitute,

and I've taken pictures of you together

to send them to his wife.

I hope that will screw him.

- Have you sent them? - No, not yet.

- Are you telling the truth? - If I had, I wouldn't be here.

What will you do?

Keep working to pay my debts.

So, our deal's still on, right?

Look, Violetta, our deal...

wasn't about the money.

Look, Martha...

my tricks will only benefit you.

Take it.

You could pay for your son's college fee.

I told you you'd be grateful our paths crossed.

How are you?

Screwed.

Still don't have it?

I don't get it...

I think I have writer's block.

I don't know.

The thing is...

you love writing from a third person point of view.

And now you're in over your head!

I've a tip for you.

Take your time.

Get out, have fun, live!

When you've written something really powerful; call me.

Got it?

That man’s in for a hard time.

- What's wrong? - I've a lot of work.

Yeah, I figure.

Listen, I put my underwear inside his wife's gift box.

"Diablo", trust... sucks.

Martha!

What is this?

You got fired.

Yeah, I can read.

But why?

Don't play dumb, man.

You're slacking, you've been missing work,

- you wander in the corridors... - I was working on my novel.

And then we have to do your work.

- You're fucking lazy. - What's wrong with you?

You always complain about these assholes,

and now you're the perfect employee?

- Come on! - Cool down, man.

When will you realize that the crap you write

doesn't make people think?

It's useless!

It's garbage!

Why did you do it?

I was afraid they knew about our deal.

Wasn't it easier to tell me to go?

You wouldn't have listened.

This was the most effective way to put you off.

I swear I told them not to call the police.

I'm sorry.

I don't want to get in trouble because of you.

I can't trust you.

What are you doing?

I'll say you assaulted me. Now go out that door and run away.

I was an antisocial cockroach.

An outcast.

My mistake?

To believe my own lies.

I couldn't keep living with a mess in my head.

I had to save my honor.

SEARCH: SECRETARY

REPLACE WITH: ASSHOLE

THE BLUNDERS OF THE NEW ASSHOLE

SEARCH: PRESIDENT

REPLACE WITH: MORON

SALARY IMPROVEMENT; SAYS THE MORON

MOM AND DAD; I'VE SPENT ALL THE DONATIONS MONEY

I'll always regret writing that letter to my parents.

Not sure if it was out of revenge or sentimentality,

but I smiled picturing the face of the Valdivias

when they got it.

Can you imagine the level of rage

my dad would have reached by then?

I didn’t know what would happen, but I sent it anyway.

I was sure they wouldn't come looking for me.

In the meantime, there was something non-negotiable.

My freedom.

Taxi!