All language subtitles for Inventing Anna - 01x09 - Dangerously Close.NF.WEBRip.x264-TEPES+GalaxyTV+ION10+NTb+PSA+RARBG.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

So, you ready?

I'm ready.

Big day is coming.

Jury is a mixed bag
but we only need a few of them,

probably women, who either love me,
impossible not to, or sympathize with you.

With what you're trying
to build and accomplish.

If not your path for getting there.

What's our strategy?

This whole shebang hangs on two words,

dangerously close.

When the judge gives the jury instructions
for deliberating on the crime of intent,

that's the definition she'll enforce
upon them for reaching their verdict.

She's going to ask them to decide

if you were dangerously close
to committing a crime.

Now, the lesser charges.

The Beekman Hotel, the plane you borrowed,
we're fucked, there's too much evidence.

The only way out of that is

if the entire jury
falls madly in love with you.

But Fortress, City National,
and Rachel fucking Williams,

the big ones, we have a shot.

We can strongly argue

you were never dangerously close
to committing any of those crimes.

So you're arguing I'm incompetent.

At being a criminal mastermind?

Yeah. That is my job.

I was building a business.

And that'll be part of my argument,

but this isn't a business school final,
this is your actual freedom at stake.

So I have to prove to them
that you were nowhere near

getting any of that money
for your foundation. Okay?

Okay.

Any more questions?

- What am I wearing?
- I don't give a fuck.

I mean, the court supplies clothes.

Simple but...

I have a brand to consider.

Also, it's different for women.
Do I need to explain this to you?

- Just get me a stylist.
- You're nervous.

Things feel out of your control.
I get this a lot.

Best thing to do
is to look humble, wear the court clothes,

let me do my song and dance

about what a young,
well-meaning, little go-getter you are,

and we have a chance...

to convince these poor bastards
that are stuck with jury duty

that you weren't dangerously close
to ripping off Rachel or these banks.

Okay?

Danke. Code.

Uh-uh. You said two Cup Noodles
for ten minutes.

Bring me 20 more minutes
and I'll give you four. Now go.

And spread the word!

Yo.

Yo, yo-self.

Who's your stylist hookup
who does rappers?

- Natasha.
- Yeah.

Oh, you thinking trial styles...

I'm thinking like HBIC,
but also like young and coquette.

Mmm-hmm. Like Lolita
meets Mildred Pierce but like now.

You got the funds?

You know I got that Daddy paper.

Just because you're inside
doesn't mean you can slang it up.

- Just make the connect, I'll call back.
- You mean holla back?

- You okay?
- Yeah, why?

You gotta send a warning text
before you call a bitch.

Thought you got cancer,
or pregnant or some shit.

No, I'm good,

but I've got a friend in trouble,
on trial starting tomorrow.

High profile...

SoHo grifter? Yeah. I know.

You down to style her?

Hmm, so she can stiff me too? No thanks.

That's her, I'm gonna...

Natasha, Anna. Anna...

Natasha, hi!
Thank you so much for doing this.

Look, my rate's 1,200 a day just to be...

Yes! Yes. Of course.

I'll get my father
to wire you the fee as soon as we start.

Cool, cool, so what's the vibe?

So, the photos from this trial
are going to live forever.

They may actually define
my entire identity going forward so...

So no pressure.

Okay, I gotta drop.

Okay. I got you.

Let's stay classic with a modern touch.

Profesh, with a young, bohemian edge.

Perfect. The photographers
will be behind me

for most of the trial so the backs
shouldn't be an afterthought.

With me? Never.

Gosh, the lighting in there.

Wicked fluorescent overheads,
a strong silhouette can conquer all.

Don't worry.

I got you, Anna.

Thank you.

Here.

Vivian. How are you?

Um...

So, uh, who else is covering my trial?

How would I know? The Post, probably.

The Post, obviously,
but what about The Times?

The Times? The New York Times?

Or the networks?

I don't know how national
the interest is in this case.

But you could make them interested.

I'm reporting on the trial,
not promoting it.

More coverage benefits you too, no?

Anna...

Validates your reporting,

unless you're happy
with it just being a local story.

- Don't you want bragging rights?
- I'm hanging up now.

You know, you should also profile Rachel,
show what a shady-ass scammer she is.

Goodbye, Anna.

Spodek and Associates.

Todd, now.

Uh, I'm afraid
he's not in right now, Anna.

You're lying, Alexi.

Would you like to leave a message?

You know, I've met a lot
of colorful characters in here.

Murderers, hitwomen,

you know, I had no idea how cheap
it was to have someone killed. Did you?

Like, seriously,
like the price of a knock-off Chanel bag.

Can you believe it?

Uh, would you like to leave a message?

Tell Todd to call my father.

Have him either
wire ten grand to pay my stylist

or bring it when he comes for the trial.

I will let him know.

Oh. And, Alexi, don't lie next time.

There's a little bit of Anna in all of us.

Everyone lies a little bit.

We are all, every one of us, inside...

There's a little bit of Anna in all of us.

Not me.

Maybe you pad your resumé,
exaggerate on your sales pitch,

toy with the filters on your social media.

- Guilty.
- We all do it.

Every one of us has become a brand,

an image,
a lie we project out into the world.

Ugh.

- What?
- Nothing.

- Is it good?
- Very.

- Then what?
- Then what, what?

Validate me. Criticize me, help me,
anything but withhold from me.

- She's lucky to have you.
- She is, right?

Did you just double entendre me?

Have me? Do you think she owns me?

- Come on, Mags.
- I just...

I want to fast forward to spring break.

I want sand in my toes
and margaritas in both hands.

I want a family chicken fight
in the shallow end of the heated pool,

and I want this trial behind us.

I want that too.

Do you think that I don't want that?

Oh, fuck me.

Jury's going to love you. Knock 'em dead.

Yeah.

Yeah, no, I'm on my way.

- Baxter.
- McCaw.

Who's that?

Eyes and ears. A proxy for Cy.

The DA's taken an interest.

Did I miss anything?

- Still waiting.
- Where should I sit?

Team Anna is this side.

Team Rachel is that side.

Neff, honey, I'm Switzerland in all this.

- What do you mean she's not dressed?
- The defendant is in prison garb.

What's the deal, Mr. Spodek?

I'm not sure
what the issue is, Your Honor.

- What did Natasha say?
- She texted, she dropped the clothes off.

- Why isn't she...
- Step off. Texting.

In all my years,

I've been held up
at gunpoint in this courtroom,

but never over wardrobe.

If you let me go speak...

I believe the court provides
clothing for those in need.

Yes. I'm aware.

Another gold star
for your report card, Counselor.

The defendant won't wear them.

I'm going to sip
this iced coffee, Mr. Spodek,

and when I'm finished,

if your client
isn't dressed and before me,

I'm going to be wildly, deeply unhappy.

Yes, Your Honor.

And don't let the jumbo size fool you.

I drink fast.

Get dressed.
We can't keep the court waiting.

- This is insane.
- Those clothes are insane.

I'd rather wear my jumpsuit.

- You can't.
- Why not?

Because first impressions
matter to jurors.

You look way too comfortable
in a prison jumpsuit.

And the judge won't allow it.
It is legally not allowed.

It's a bad look in our courtroom
and could lead to a mistrial.

You're making an enemy of her on day one.

Every second that we delay...

Then get me clothes I can wear.

Put the fucking clothes on.
This is hurting you, Anna.

Hurting me? I'm fine.

- Tell her to wear the court clothes.
- I did.

She looked at me
like I asked to fuck her in the ass.

- Where are the clothes?
- Rikers. She dropped them off last night.

- She have others?
- I can't reach...

- Get them here.
- I can't reach her.

- I think she's crashed out after...
- Wake her up.

I do not work for you.

This is so fucked.

We've got 30 minutes before this judge
loses her fucking shit on me.

- You'd better get shopping.
- Me?

Y'all figure it out, I got a shift.

Okay, this is... I'm in court,
I can't leave to go shopping.

I can't participate in Anna's defense!

That would be unethical,
crossing a line journalistically.

Well, I'm a fucking guy.

Can you tell me
what pantyhose or whatever...

- Do you think pantyhose is going to be...
- What's wrong with that?

Fine!

But you will give me access
to all of the discovery in this case.

Everything. Anna's phone, email,
everything the prosecution has, I want.

Yes. Fuck. Whatever. Just go.

- Hi, welcome to...
- Business, sweet, modest. Now.

- They're right over there.
- Show me.

Flats, black, size 7. Go!

Vivian must have thought this was
a shoelace or a belt or something.

A happy accident.

But this is not
a great start for our team.

I'm very underwhelmed
with our preparation on day one.

We have to go!

Now!

Don't crowd my entrance.

- You good?
- Mmm-hmm.

Thank you so very much
for joining us, Miss Sorokin.

Officer, bring in the jury.

On October 11th, 1944,

Frank Sinatra opened
the Paramount Theater in Times Square.

Women swooned
at the sight of Ol' Blue Eyes.

They literally fainted.

To the public,
this was the Sinatra effect,

but in reality, it was strategically
created by Sinatra's press agents.

Women were paid to swoon.

And plant kisses,
and throw their clothes on stage.

Ambulances and nurses were stationed
outside the theater on purpose.

All because if he can make it here...

he'll make it anywhere.

Anna came to New York
just like some of you did.

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,
excited by the opportunities.

A mere 25 years old.

No rich parents. No connections.

No fancy school pedigree.

Anna couldn't
wait around for opportunities.

She had to create them.
We can all relate to that.

There's a little bit of Anna in all of us.

Everyone lies a little bit.

Whether it's on a resumé,
or a sales pitch, or on social media.

We think the world
has changed with social media.

Every person has become a brand.

An image fed out into the world. A lie.

But what was true
for Anna was true for Sinatra.

Sometimes you've gotta
fake it till you make it.

So, Anna followed suit
and became the person she wanted to be.

A person who would receive
the red carpet from New York's elite.

She allowed everyone to believe
the story they wanted to believe.

It wasn't a crime when Sinatra did it.

It isn't a crime now.

The people you'll hear from,

they wanted to believe
that Anna was a German heiress

because it benefited them to do so.

That's what they got.

Not for one single moment did Anna
have the intent of stealing any money.

Every person that walks in here

and sits in that chair
wanted to give Anna money

because they wanted
to be in business with her.

To be close to Anna Delvey!

The German heiress!

Would they have wanted to be
in business with Anna Sorokin?

A middle class foreigner? No.

Anna had to fake it till she made it.

You may judge her for that.

Find her unethical.

Like some would find Sinatra unethical

for staging fainting women
at his performances.

But it is not illegal.

And the truth is,
what you need to remember most of all...

the evidence will show you
that Anna was never close,

let alone dangerously close
to getting these loans

or stealing from anyone who gets
in that chair and tells you otherwise.

Not. One. Dollar.

Thank you.

The Sinatra defense. Bold.

One last administrative issue, Your Honor.

At a later date, we will put into evidence

the contents
of the defendant's cellphone and laptop

as we anticipated communication

between the defendant
and her various contacts.

I wanted to alert you
that there have been technical issues

with our IT department
due to a computer crash.

And, you know, the major thing
is that most of our exhibits

are in a state
where they would be presentable,

the only issue that persists,
and we made it a high priority...

- What's she...
- I'll ask Todd.

There are two witnesses who
would testify relating to those matters.

- What's wrong?
- Where is everyone?

She wants to know where everyone is.

Everyone? Who's everyone?

The press?

Her public? Whatever.

Only press can take pictures in here.

- You're press, you take it then.
- What's this for?

I'm gonna light this whole scene
up in here. Watch me.

See those photographers,
that's Daily Mail, New York Post, AP.

They publish instantaneously.
You need pics, use theirs.

The people call Alan Reed.

And did you provide your services

connecting her
with banks who might extend a loan?

- I did.
- Did the defendant pay for these services?

No.

And even after you kept working,

billing all of these hours
above an unpaid retainer

at $1,000 an hour,
were you ever able to get Anna

close to getting a loan approved
or transferred to her custody?

No.

Is it my client's fault
you didn't handle your business correctly?

The people
call Gabriel Calatrava.

- Hey.
- Hi.

She gave you a driver's
licence without her birthplace on it,

and a fake trust document written
in German by her in Microsoft Word.

Fake address
for her father's business abroad.

That's correct.

Would you say
the defendant was relentless?

Stopping at nothing
to get a loan from Fortress?

She was persistent, yes.

Did you keep working with her

because you were
interested in her romantically?

Yeah. He did.

Do you recall flirting with Miss Sorokin?

Unfortunately.

Did you tell her you wanted to kiss her?

- Objection.
- Sustained.

Yeah, you definitely did.

A courtroom is an unexpected
venue for a fashion show,

but everything about Anna Delvey,

the fake German heiress
on trial in Manhattan,

seems to surprise and fascinate.

Now Anna Delvey's courtroom wardrobe
has its own Instagram account.

Who created the account? No one knows.

But Anna's iconic outfits
are now must-have fashion,

and it's all due to a celebrity stylist.

I know this is you.

Your fingerprints
are all over this hashtag.

Kacy, don't accuse me of doing
something I'm damn proud of doing.

What you're doing is making it
so this poor girl has to tell her sad-ass,

embarrassing story to the entire world
instead of just a jury.

Anna could go to prison for 15 years,

and you're worried
about Becky's 15 minutes of shame.

- Stop calling me Becky.
- Okay, Karen.

When are you going to wake the fuck up
and realize you're Satan's secretary?

At her beck and call 24/7.

Damn straight.

Do you have any idea
what it takes for Anna to call me 24/7?

Cup Noodles. Lots and lots of 'em.

See, each inmate gets
six minutes a day of phone time.

Six minutes.

An impossible amount
to run a defense for a trial.

So every day she hustles,
trades Cup Noodles,

instant coffee, fucking tampons,

whatever she can get her hands on
through the commissary

or by making deals
with some scary-ass people,

turns all that into minutes.

Fucking hours' worth every day.

That's hustle. I respect that.

When you behave in a way I can respect,
drop on by my place of work and say hi.

Till then, always a pleasure, Miss Karen,

and good to see
you've chosen a side, Miss Switzerland.

Anna has a very clear idea

of what she wants
and how she present herself to the world.

Hopefully, the clothes I chose
can reflect her power

and force in the business world
and her strong sense of personal style.

Media coverage is making
Anna Delvey into some kind of Rihanna.

Some hard-working fashion icon.

You're killing it in court,
but Cy will see this coverage

and, from what I can tell,
they only remember mistakes,

and they only reward
perfection around here.

It's so unfair. We'll probably get
an earful from Baxter tomorrow.

He's an irrelevant middle-man.

Cy's interest will wander
to the next shiny thing after this.

I'm the one who remembers mistakes
and only rewards perfection.

Baxters come and go.

If I lose a single count on this case,
I'll never forget it.

The rest of my life.

So, forget Baxter

and find me
the Rachel Williams grand jury testimony

I asked you about ten minutes ago.

My God.

I mean, Anna's got groupies.
They're starting to troll me now.

It'll only get worse
when I get up on the stand. Fuck.

I'll need to change my identity.

Can they find where I live?
They know where I work.

You're scared.

- Are you a criminal?
- No.

- Who is?
- She is.

- Did you betray your friend's trust?
- No.

Leave her high and dry
at a moment of weakness?

No.

- Who did?
- Anna did.

- Who should be scared right now?
- Anna should.

- Who should want to hide right now?
- Anna should.

Amen.

But still, what about...

Everyone's going
to hate me after I testify.

Will you hate you?

Stand in your truth,

fortified by kindness,
and tell your story...

you bad bitch.

Miss McCaw, I'm not getting any younger.

The people call Rachel Deloache Williams.

D-E-L-O-A-C-H-E.

Thank you.

And welcome.

Yes, thank you.

I know this hasn't been
an easy time for you.

- Where do you live, Rachel?
- The West Village.

- Where did you go to college?
- Kenyon College.

Why did you come to New York?

I wanted to become a writer.
And to work at Vanity Fair.

- And did you?
- I did.

How long did it take to obtain
a position there after arriving here?

- Three months.
- And could you tell us how?

I got an informational interview
with a woman who worked there

and we seemed to hit it off,
but I didn't hear back so...

I sent a hand-written
forget-me-not note with,

like, this book of kind of dorky poems

and a box of tea
asking her to keep me in mind.

I went in and interviewed
the next day and started the day after.

Miss Williams, before we go down
the rabbit-hole of your horrible hardship

and struggle in your attempt
to be reimbursed by Miss Sorokin,

I was hoping you'd tell the court

how this experience
has affected your life.

My life? Sure.

Honestly, the money,
the stress she caused me with my work,

and family, as horrible as all that was,

I feel like
it will all pass eventually, but...

But...

you were close with the defendant.

Yes.

Is that why you trusted her,
defended her, helped her even when...

I loved Anna.

I was devoted to her.

I was supportive,
I was a good friend to her.

A very good friend, you know?

So when suddenly
she became this vicious person

willing to let me lose my job
and possibly go to prison

for using my company card to help her
in a crisis, all for her lavish lifestyle...

I honestly don't know if I'll ever
be able to trust anyone ever again.

To let someone into my life ever again.

Like, I hope that will change,
but I can feel how different I am now.

How scared and vulnerable...

Like, everything
she put me through...

all the lies and stress
and betrayal, I know I can survive

but I don't know if that ability
to trust will ever change.

If I'll ever be myself again.
If I'll ever be able to let someone in.

To love.

Do you need a moment?

I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm okay.

I'm okay. I'm okay. Please.

Could you tell the jury why you chose
to monetize this awful experience?

Enormous debt.

But also, I found that I was kind of,
like, stuck in my head.

Replaying the scenes again and again.

So I thought, the only thing
to do is to get it down on paper.

And it felt very important to me
that I be the one to tell my story.

Don't worry,
we'll get our crack at her tomorrow.

You speak Russian, right?

Some.

Da.

Mr. Sorokin, this is Todd Spodek,
your daughter's lawyer.

So anyway,
I'm not sure how much of the trial

you've been able to catch from Germany...

Um...

But I'm calling to see

if you've reconsidered
joining us in person.

- Nyet.
- He says no.

I got that.

So Vadim, the thing is,
your daughter is a little distraught.

Which isn't to say we're losing,
we're not,

but given the stresses
of a trial like this,

especially with all this media attention...

There's really no substitute for family.

She needs her family here.

Please.

Your own daughter?

On trial in a foreign country.

I am just her lawyer, Vadim.

I can't be her father too.

I can't do this.

I can't be everything for her.

He said, "Good day."

Hey Viv, what did we miss?

Uh, not Anna's entrance, thankfully.

Missed one day of Rachel's testimony,
not missing another.

- Brought you lunch...
- You can't, I can update you.

Wasn't it supposed to start by now?

Half an hour ago.

- What's the holdup?
- Not sure. Todd's not answering.

Well, did you try calling?

I find it far more immediate than texting.

Helicopter parenting.
Never knew what that meant until now.

You've got to be kidding me. Okay.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I apologize for the delay.

Apparently our defendant
is refusing to join us

while she sorts out
some ongoing wardrobe issues.

Issues? What now?
She got exactly what she asked for.

It's not what she got.

But how much she got.

Guess it's my turn to make the H&M run.

- H&M run?
- Her turn?

Oh, I just... it's just,
I... this could take a while.

You guys should probably get back

before Paul
gives your desks away to the interns.

What is wrong with the clothes, Anna?

- They're dirty.
- Then wear these.

- Get me new ones.
- We can't do this again.

Get me new clothes
and tell the judge I'm taking the stand.

- Okay, Anna, listen...
- No! You fucked up this entire trial.

I knew,
with your stupid Long Island accent

and your stupid face

that you would be
a useless piece of shit lawyer!

- Anna, shut up and listen.
- No, you listen!

I'm taking the stand. Tell the judge.

Tell Natasha to bring me better clothes
or I'll fire you!

What is your problem?

My shitty, cheap,
fucking ugly idiot lawyer is my problem!

I'm taking the stand, you incompetent ape.

You fucked up this entire defense.

If I needed the money,

I could have had married
those rich asshole bankers!

I'm trying to build something

and you have completely
ruined my reputation!

- Your reputation?
- That's it, you're fired! Get out!

First of all, taking the stand
would be legal suicide.

- Which I...
- We're done!

Oh, fuck off, go find a stalker in need.

Questions that make you
look more like a greedy,

lying, sad-sack scammer
with a creepy fucking accent.

But that's not
why you're not taking the stand.

You're not taking the stand
because that's my decision, not yours.

You're fired, you fucking low-class loser!

- But that's still not why.
- You have no right!

This may be your reputation...

It's not just my reputation, asshole,

it's my life. It's my freedom!

You useless,
incompetent excuse for a con artist.

I've known a shit-ton
of criminals in my day

and you are below
fucking average at crime, so, fuck you.

And fuck your reputation.

And fuck your fake-ass life
and your freedom.

This is my reputation, my identity,

my ability to provide
a life for my family you're fucking with,

and now, now I look like a fucking hack
because I can't control my client.

Can't get baby dressed.

I let you take the stand

and it's the nail
in your coffin and in mine.

You will get the maximum sentence
and no one will ever hire me again!

As they fucking shouldn't.

You know, fuck me, fuck you!

Get out, I... my father will find me
a lawyer who isn't just some old trash...

Your father? Your fucking father?

You're not stupid, so what is it?

Full-on fucking delusion

that makes you believe
he's coming anywhere near here?

Do you believe your lies?

Are they for me or for you?

Must be you.

Because everyone else in your life
who hasn't abandoned you yet

is way past believing them
and could give a fuck!

So long as your checks don't bounce.

Even your father
is done with this shitty act of yours.

That's why your clothes are dirty.

Your delusion must be on some epic level

to even imagine for one second
that he would show up here,

let alone pay
for a fucking fancy-ass stylist

to dress you up
like a courthouse Barbie doll!

The jury loved her.

Fucking ate up
every spoonful of her bullshit.

She's a no-talent want-to-be
trolling for fame off my back.

And they loved her.

They couldn't take their eyes off Rachel.

But it's because she's,
she's prettier than me...

more likeable.

She can fit in anywhere.

She's a better actress.

This is not her show.

- This is our show.
- And did you see?

She made them fucking cry.

This is our show. You're the star.

I'm the fucking, what do you call it?

Loser lawyer
who gets fired in the first episode.

No, not that.

Costar.

The one who stands by you
when no one else will.

The one who never abandons you,
even when I can't stand you.

Even when you treat me like shit,

I still defend you to anyone
who thinks you're an asshole and a dick.

Which you are.
You're a fucking dick, Anna. A huge dick.

But you've also got balls.
Big fucking rhino balls.

Yeah, I respect the fuck
out of those big, swinging...

the kind you need to get shit
accomplished in this town.

But those people, they don't see it.

They see a selfish dick
who steals from her friends

and fucking raids fucking hotel mini-bars

like some rabid
little Russian racoon all over town.

I will change that.

I will expose Rachel
for the fucking hypocrite that she is,

- and serve up those big, huge...
- Gross.

...on a big fucking silver platter

for everyone in the court
and world to admire.

I will kill for you.

Not because you deserve it, you do,

but because I need it.
Because I fucking need it.

For me.

And because I can.

I'm fucking down to fight.

But you need to stop fighting me.

I would rather go to jail forever
then come off like some wannabe.

Some amateur.

Some lazy millennial just looking
for a shortcut to fame and fortune.

Yeah. Some Rachel.

I want respect.

I want you to defend me out there.

I want you to defend my work,
my foundation. My achievements.

My father...

everyone, everyone,

they have to know how close I was.

They have to know that I'm not a fraud.

You have my word.

Get dressed.

This is unacceptable
and inappropriate.

I have had a jury here since 9:30.

You are on trial in a criminal court.

This is not a fashion show.

Who in the hell do you think you are?

I apologize, Your Honor.

Next time, the officers will

wrap you in drapes
and drag you to that chair.

- You understand, Miss Sorokin?
- Yes, Your Honor.

Okay. Let's bring in the jury.

We learned a lot about
your bio from your testimony.

Good upbringing, good college.

Landing your dream job
three months after arriving here.

Wow.

Congratulations on your
success as a writer.

- It's enviable. We should all be so lucky.
- Objection.

Ask a question, Mr. Spodek.

Were you familiar
with Anna before meeting her?

I saw her on social media.

So fair to say you wanted
to meet her before you did.

She was interesting.
Her feed was interesting to me, yes.

What was interesting about her?
Or her social media feeds?

Photos of art, travel,

the editor-in-chief,
I guess, at Purple Magazine.

So similar careers attracted you?

Both working in fashion magazines.
Anna maybe had a leg up but...

Yes.

And when you did become friends with Anna,
did you ever pay for a drink?

- She wouldn't let me...
- Answer the question.

Not that I recall.

Any of the dozens of dinners at Le Coucou
and other fine dining establishments?

- Not that I recall.
- Spa treatments? Facials?

Infrared saunas? Massages, nail salons?

- No. Anna was very generous.
- Celebrity personal training sessions?

- No.
- You never paid for any of them?

And how many of these various luxuries

did Anna buy for you
over the two years you hung out together?

- Like what?
- Start with dinners and go from there.

How many?

- I don't recall.
- You didn't write them down?

- No.
- How will you remember them for your book?

- Objection, Your Honor.
- Sustained.

Did you cooperate with the NYPD,

with a detective to aid in the arrest
of your friend, Anna Sorokin?

Yes. It was the only way...

Why didn't you mention that
in your account in Vanity Fair?

I didn't have enough space.

But of all the details.

You wrote about hitting the town together

and nice little bonding moments
you had with Anna with beautiful detail.

You didn't think the dramatic event
of setting up a sting operation

to arrest Anna was worthy
of space in your article?

I didn't have enough space.

Mmm.

How much are you being paid

to write a book
about your experience with Anna?

I don't know.
I don't really understand how contracts...

I'm an attorney, so let me help you out.

It says here you get 300 grand spread out
over four payments. Sound about right?

Yes.

And your TV deal, do you know
how much you're getting for that?

- Or do you need help explaining it?
- I think it's around... 30,000.

For the option. And then another $300,000
if the show gets made. Correct?

- Correct.
- So in total, $630,000.

Plus the 1,200 you got from Vanity Fair
for writing the article. Correct?

I don't want my testimony
to be misconstrued or seen

as a ploy for my own benefit
because it's not.

It's not about entertainment,
it's about law and order and a crime!

For you it is about entertainment, right?

This is about trauma, the judicial system
in America, warning others so...

This is not about entertainment,

this is the most traumatic thing
that I have ever been through.

I understand all that.

But this traumatic experience
that you went through,

you sold to three separate people. Right?

I worked very hard.

Answer the question.

Yes, I did sell to three separate people,
but I worked very hard.

And when you say
you worked very hard,

you worked very hard
on befriending Miss Sorokin,

by benefitting from her connections,

her extreme generosity,

and after one thing
that doesn't go your way, one mishap,

you worked very hard on cooperating
with the police to have Anna arrested.

You worked very hard on luring her
out of her rehab center in Malibu,

pretending to be meeting her for lunch.

You worked very hard
on your dream of becoming a writer

by finding a character
and creating as juicy a story...

- Objection.
- Overruled.

No. This is...

And you worked very hard
on selling that story

of your experience with Anna
to the highest bidders, right?

This is not...

I wish I'd never met Anna.

I wouldn't wish this on anybody.

This is the worst thing
that's ever happened to me.

Two years after arriving
to this city to make it as a writer,

you've published
an article in Vanity Fair.

You have over $600,000 in book
and TV deals coming your way.

All because you found and befriended
and turned Anna in to the police.

If this is the worst thing
that happened to you,

- we should all be so lucky.
- Objection.

Withdrawn.
No further questions, Your Honor.

You dropped a dime on Anna?

Worked with the cops?
Set her up? Lured her out of rehab?

Look, I can explain.

- I know you're probably angry...
- This is shock.

You'll know when I'm angry.

I had to cooperate with the police.
It was the only way to get reimbursed.

Why hide it?

I was ashamed.

I felt used.

By the police, by the prosecutor...

I feel used.

By you.

Thinking you're some kind of victim
in all this. Taking care of you.

I am a victim in all of this.

At least you'll get to cry
into all that money.

Looks like you'll have plenty left over,
even after you pay Amex that 60K you owe.

Unless someone
already paid that back for you.

Do not withhold
from me in this moment or...

Amex took care of it. They saw how crazy
this situation was and they...

So you made out just fine
from dropping a dime on your friend!

- Is that...
- Yeah.

- Are you going to...
- No.

Okay.

- But what if it's...
- Lines. Boundaries.

Cheers to...
your excellent cross of Rachel today.

Could help with one charge,
but the other nine...

Oh, Catherine's like
this unstoppable fact robot,

shoveling her evidence
down their captive throats

until they're so fucking full
there's no room for any of mine.

So we shift strategy.

Yeah, well, my best strategy

that she was never dangerously close
to getting any of that money.

I can't fucking use because my client

would rather rot in jail
than allow strangers

to think she's bad at business.

- Who says you have to listen to her?
- Ethics. Decency.

Whatever it takes, right?

Come on.
You did great today. You got this!

How drunk are you?

I'm excited. We could win this puppy.

Anna could be sitting right there,
on that stool, in a week's time.

Anna would never be
caught dead in this place.

We should go home.

Probably should.

Oh.

Boundaries. Boundaries, Vivian.

Yes, I accept.

What's up, Anna?

You got a thing I don't know about?

I thought you were asleep.

I was.

I keep thinking I'm hearing her cry.

Then I wake up
and it's like ghost cries or something.

Do you hear those too?

What happened to all of my dresses?

Fashion police
raided the place this afternoon.

I should have told you.

I have to get clothes to Rikers by 11:00
or they won't be there

when they take her in the morning,
and it'll be another fiasco.

Her? See, when I say "her,"
I mean our daughter. When you say "her..."

It's just clothes, I'm just helping.

Ah, there you are!

If I showed a video of you
to college you right now,

she would freak the fuck out.

It's just a dress, Jack.
Why does this bother you so much?

It's bothering me
that it's not bothering you.

Of course it's bothering me.
I hate thinking about clothes.

I hate being away from my daughter
and going to Rikers.

Then why?

Because I created this monster.

Now the eyes of the world
are on her. She has no one.

There are plenty of good reasons
why she has no one.

I need to get this to Rikers, so...

How can you even say this to me?

For months, you have known
about this vacation!

It's my fault
this trial is dragging on?

- Nothing is your fault. How could it be?
- I can't just abandon my client!

Handing off to co-counsel
is not abandonment.

You haven't been there,
not once, to support me.

You have no idea, with a shit-ton
of media attention, I can't just give up...

- Now we know what this is really about.
- What?

You wanna be there
for the press conference,

so half a dozen
of your law school classmates

can see your face on New York 1. Pathetic.

- I could give a fuck...
- If this was a death row case, sure!

Take all the time you need,
but your entire ego is riding

on this spoiled little thief who is,
let us face it, guilty as all get-out!

If she is a killer,
she wouldn't need me,

but she's not. She's a kid.

An immigrant kid, who came to this country
for the American dream...

Please don't wrap the flag
around this psycho.

I am all she has!

You were raised on Mount fucking Olympus.

You could never understand
what that's like.

Please... explain it to me.

- Get it, go on.
- No.

Go tell Anna
how great she looked in court today.

You act like I'm fucking this chick.
She's a client!

I wish you were,
because it would help explain to me

why you suddenly think it is okay

to completely ruin
our only vacation in two years.

- I have boundaries.
- She'll call again.

Hello.

Oh. Hi. Brian, right? Is your dad there?

He's fighting with my mom.

I can wait.
But not very long. I'm in jail.

What did you do?

Nothing, I just borrowed some money.

And a jet.

Can I borrow some money?

Your dad has all my money.

He won't give me any.

I doubt that.

He's a nice guy.

And he loves you very much.

But he's making my mom sad.

You can probably blame me for that.

But you can also use that
to get what you want.

I can?

Sure. People give people money
for all sorts of reasons.

Guilt and love are two of the biggest.

And you've got both.
You should ask for the moon.

I'll go get my dad.

No, don't. Let them fight.

But I don't like it. It's loud.

It's better than silence.

Well, uh...
Brian, my time is up.

Bye.

Bye.

When Detective McCaffrey went to look
for Anna in court, was she there?

No.

Did she stay to fight her charges?

No.

She went to California because she knew
there was no defense to these charges.

She knew that she was guilty
of these charges.

That shows plainly that the defendant...

White for the closing arguments? Genius.

...committing crimes.

When you go back
to the jury room to deliberate,

I urge you to come to the only verdict

that is in accord
with the law and the evidence.

And that is that the defendant is guilty

beyond a reasonable doubt
of all ten counts.

Thank you.

Mr. Spodek?

Todd.

Remember how I told you I'd kill for you?

What?

Just... trust your costar.

Okay?

You've heard a lot of evidence
from a lot of witnesses in this trial,

but have you noticed one thing throughout?

Every witness who came before you
in this trial was embarrassed.

They didn't want
to tell you the full truth.

Every witness blamed
someone else for their mistakes.

Everyone had a story.

Because every one of them,
all highly paid,

well-educated, experienced businessmen,

every one of them
was fooled by a 25-year-old kid

with no college degree, no credentials,

and no business experience
beyond an internship.

Anna was as green as they come.

In a world where she knew no one
with no idea of what she was doing.

How could she get dangerously close
to fooling these banks?

To getting any of this money?

Now, you may have found Miss Sorokin's

behavior wrong, immoral,
unethical, unorthodox.

You may love her or hate her
for exploiting the system.

- But if anyone in this case...
- What is he...

...is trying to remove people
from their money, it's the bankers.

They will literally do anything
in their nature

to get your accounts and business.

Was Anna ever remotely close

to getting any of these loans
from any of these banks?

Never.

And if she had been,
it wouldn't have gone into her pocket.

It would go to the landlord
for the building

she wanted to renovate for her business.

But look at the evidence, and you'll see,

there was no business.

It was just a dream. An idea.

The only thing that materialized
was a pitch deck.

A few words and pictures.

It was never real. Never tangible.

Anna was young,
ambitious, in over her head,

totally unprepared and incapable
of what she set out to do.

She was never, not for one second close,

let alone dangerously close,

to getting this money
or building this building,

or starting this club,
this art foundation.

It was all talk. Hot air.

A road to nowhere paved
with naiveté and good intentions.

To prove she had the intent,

you'd have to prove
she was dangerously close.

And if you can't find her intent,
you cannot convict her of any crimes.

If you have a reasonable doubt
as to her intent,

her state of mind,

then you must find her not guilty
on all counts.

Thank you.

Thank you, Mr. Spodek.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,
try to stay with me.

I'm going to change the tone
of my voice a little

so that you will pay attention
because this is important.

He tanked her. He totally tanked her.

The indictment
is not evidence of guilt,

it's a notice of the charges...

- I had to. It was...
- ...against the defendant

served as the mechanism
for bringing her to trial.

Throughout these proceedings,
the defendant...

Hey.

How long does this shit take?

As long as it takes, I guess.

I'm not a patient person,
so give me some mantra or some shit.

God, give me the strength to accept
the things I cannot change...

You made that up
or steal it from the Bible?

Neither.

My ex is in Alcoholics Anonymous.

So ten counts against Anna, right?

Yes, Vivian, ten counts.

And she could get 15 years
if convicted on all of them?

You've known this... What is this? Amnesia?

Early onset fucking Alzheimer's...

I'm trying to distract you
so you'll stop twisting that bottle cap.

It's a big hallway, Vivian.

Think it's a one holdout,
12 Angry Men situation in there, or...

Is it the legal definitions
they're struggling with?

I don't even care anymore.

I've done my bit.

I'm getting on a plane for Mexico
in five hours. Come what may.

You're leaving?

Well, it's either that or divorce.

So...

Alexi can handle it from here.
He's more than capable.

You're leaving today?

- It's just a case, Vivian.
- I know that.

I've abandoned my family for long enough.

I get it. It's just...

- Anna's a big girl.
- I know.

It's not that.

It's... I guess...

I don't have the words,
and I should because words are my job,

but the closest thing I can come up with

for how I feel is that I will miss you.

This is not... We'll cross paths.

Of course.

And there'll be other cases of interest.

I mean, for sure.

Right.

We can go out to dinner. The four of us.

Maybe five.

Right. Yeah.

Here's hoping.

Nothing yet?

Don't ask me again.

Maybe there's no connection,
bad service...

Viv's online.

This green light tells me so.

This computer thing
even tells me when she's typing.

It actually tells me
Vivian is typing when she's typing.

Who the fuck needs that much information?

Is that supposed to ease my anxiety?
It does the exact opposite.

Since Vivian's not typing,
I'm making a green tea run. Anybody?

I'm good.

I'll have a... a red eye.

Hold it, hold it...

Vivian is typing.

This is it.

This is it.

Let's bring in the jury.

Everybody, sit down! Now!

- There's a verdict.
- We can read.

Hi.

All right.

Members of the jury,

I understand we have a note indicating
you have reached a verdict.

I would ask the clerk...

Would the foreperson please stand?

- You gotta stand up.
- Oh.

Is the verdict unanimous?

Yes.

How say you as to count one,
charging the defendant, Anna Sorokin,

with attempted grand larceny
in the first degree,

attempt to steal property
from City National Bank

exceeding $1 million.
Guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

Whoo!

Yeah! Fuck, yeah! Okay.

How say you as to count two,
charging the defendant

with attempted grand larceny
in the first degree,

attempt to steal property
from Fortress Investment Inc.

exceeding $1 million.

Guilty or not guilty?

Come on, come on, come on, type faster.

Type, Vivian.

Guilty.

Count three,
charging the defendant

with grand larceny in the second degree,

stolen property
from City National Bank exceeding $50,000.

- Guilty or not guilty?
- Guilty.

Count four, charging the defendant
with grand larceny in the second degree,

stolen property
from Citibank NA exceeding $50,000.

- Guilty or not guilty?
- Guilty.

Count five, charging the defendant
with grand larceny in the second degree,

stolen property
from Rachel Williams exceeding $50,000.

Guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

Count six, charging the defendant
with grand larceny in the third degree,

stolen property
from Signature Bank exceeding $3,000.

- Guilty or not guilty?
- Guilty.

Count seven, charging
the defendant with theft of services,

intent to obtain air transportation
service with Fly Blade Inc.

- Guilty or not guilty?
- Guilty.

Beekman Hotel?

Guilty.

- W Hotel.
- Guilty.

- Le Parker Meridien Hotel.
- Guilty.

Well...

that's that.

Ladies and gentlemen,
it has been a very difficult job.

I understand that and I appreciate it.

As I said,
no matter what your verdict was,

you served your community well.

A couple of things, all of the...

Hey, we won two out of the three big ones.
That's not nothing.

- No, yeah. City National and Rachel.
- Mmm-hmm.

It's not bad.

If you wish
to speak to them, you may.

I think that some members of the media
might wish to speak to you as well.

Again, it is your choice
if you choose to speak with them.

And I want to mention
something about the media.

Obviously, you have
seen them here the whole time.

I'm very proud of the way
you've focused on this case, not on them.

I'm sorry,
but I've got to go right after this.

Alexi will walk you through
the next steps.

I'll be back next week
to check on you. Okay?

Yes.

Have a good vacation. You earned it.

And thanks once again
for your service.

Thank you.

You may exit. You are discharged.

- I'm so proud of you.
- Thank you. That means a lot.

We should stop and pick up
sticker books for the kiddos

if you want any chance
of surviving this flight.

I had Gloria call the hotel

and sign them up for kids club
every day,

so we can claim half a day
to ourselves to hit the golf course,

wander into town,
spend the whole day in bed.

What is it?

I can't go. Not now.

Why? Todd, it's over.

I'll come as soon as I can.

I don't think you understand
what you're doing right now.

I do understand.

I don't think you understand...

She's got you parking her car, Todd.
You know that.

I love you, I...

You okay?

You betrayed me.

That's one way to look at it.

I also beat two out of three
of your biggest charges.

You don't have to like how I got there,
but let me explain.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter.

The jury, they saw through you.

They saw how close
I was to the money, to ADF.

They saw through Rachel's bullshit.

I... I didn't need to fuck over
my friends for 60 grand

when those fucking frat boys at Fortress
were willing to hand over 20 million!

Those people in there.
They... they saw me.

I was dangerously close,
and they saw that.

Now... now the world will know
that I am not an idiot.

I'm not some dumb socialite.

I'm a player.

I was so... I was one step away.

I'll call your dad.

I'll let him know.

The traffic
on your original story is insane.

Between the trial and sentencing,

it's consistently peaking
as the top-trending,

highest read ratio
of any story on the site.

Globally, over four million
unique impressions.

We've never seen anything like this.

- Have we, Paul?
- Not in my memory.

The interest in this is, well, just...

We obviously need a follow-up.

Absolutely.

Cover story.

Yeah, big splash.

Get micro with it.
I want all the inside color.

The conflict with the judge.

The whole courtroom,
this runway business.

Apparently she wore white
on the day of her closing arguments.

I mean, this chick's amazing.

Was that white dress her idea?

Or the stylist's?

Hey.

We should move you.

She needs an office.
The office next to you is free.

You want the office next to Paul?

Don't worry about...

Uh, we're going to need
art directors, photographers...

- The kid, the Mexican kid.
- Who?

Oh.

Landon offered me an office.

Next to Paul's.

Attagirl.

I'm moving out of Scriberia.

That's the goal.

Vivian. What?

It was mine. The white dress Anna wore.

Huh. Huh.

I took it out of my closet, Lou.

Yep.

Lou...

Scriberia, white dresses...

You're burying the lead.

I care about her.

More than I should.

She doesn't care about me at all.

Did she care about me at all?
Was I just another con?

The lead.

Vivian. Huh.

What the fuck do I do now?

You move onto the next story.

That's the job.

It's okay. It's okay.

Miss Sorokin,
I have no confidence whatsoever...

None... Zero... To face the music.

I am remanding you to Rikers Island

for five to 15 years,
state prison until trial.

Anna Sorokin,

convicted of swindling New York's
elite out of more than $200,000,

will be sentenced tomorrow
in a Manhattan courtroom.

Sorokin faces up to 15 years in prison.

Rachel can write.

- What's it say? Give it.
- Stop it. You're not in here much.

Give it!

Should have come to Morocco,
you'd be famous like me.

How can she write so fast?

- She's got the trial in here.
- Give me the book.

It'll be out by summer.

You can read it on Jones Beach
like the other basic bitches.

Here, have at it.

You know what, no.

I have wasted enough...

I'm shooketh.

I am done... living life
through the eyes of others.

I am a director.

I'm a fucking film director, starting now.

I'm going inside and giving 'em
my two weeks, right now. Watch me.

- Honey, wait.
- Don't try talking me out of it.

Wait, Anna's sentence.

The judge is ruling. It's out.

How long?

Twelve years.

Four to twelve.

Twelve years.

In 12 years,
my daughter will have a cellphone.

Twelve is the max.

In 12 years,
there won't be Arctic sea ice.

- I'm not sure what that has to do...
- In 12 years, Anna will be 40.

She won't be a viral sensation.

She won't be an Instagram star.

She won't be daughter of the zeitgeist
or queen of the millennials.

She'll be a lonely middle-aged woman
whose life was stolen from her.

Todd.

What? What do you want me to say?

You didn't make her do the interview?

You didn't use her?

She didn't end up
getting a longer sentence

because of the media attention?

Sorry, but you got more clicks,
Anna got more time. Plain and simple.

How's your phone?

My phone?

I'll bet it's ringing.

Finally.

Getting some new clients these days?

Yeah, exactly.

You're about to get rich
off of this case. Enjoy that.

Maybe give yourself a break. Regroup.

- Maybe take your family on vacation...
- I missed my family vacation!

I suppose that's my fault too?

Go to the fucking airport.
Be with your family. I'm not stopping you.

Where's she going?

Bedford Hills.

When does she leave?

Are you nervous?

Fuck this place. I'm ready for real prison
with real criminal masterminds.

It'll make the days more interesting.

And Bedford Hills, they say it's nice.

Yeah.

Anna, I... just wanted to say I'm sorry.

For what?

For how... everything turned out.

For all of this.

- I thought...
- You thought what?

I know you didn't think
you were going to rescue me.

Anna, come on.

No touching.

I never thought...

You don't deserve this kind of a sentence.

The guys who broke the Wall Street banks
didn't get this kind of a sentence.

You should...

If I hadn't written that article, I...

You are just starting out.

I'm saying... mistakes were made.

My only mistake was to overestimate
people's ability to handle stress.

Your only mistake?

You're telling me... that given
the chance to do this all over again,

you'd do the exact same things?

Anna.

This is it. This is the last time
we're going to see each other.

I'm saying I'm sorry. I'm asking you...

No, stop, Vivian. You're not my friend.

We're not some giggling idiots,
BFF, whatever.

I don't like you. You have terrible shoes.
This was a transaction. We had a deal.

- Anna.
- No, it's okay.

You made good on your part of the deal.

You said you would
make me famous, and you did.

Who's more famous right now
than Anna Delvey?

No touching.

You'll come visit.

No touching.

You'll come visit.

I'll visit.

God, just calm the fuck down.

- Time's up, Anna. Let's go.
- Okay, I got it. Okay.

Goodbye, Vivian.

Goodbye, Anna.

Vivian...

you look good.

You lost some weight.

You're not so fat anymore.