Julia smirked and turned towards the window facing the front of her house where her brand new Bentley was parked.
“Count your blessings Jules,” Sanford said, “that car of yours is worth more than most people make in 10 years.”
An olive colored El Camino loaded with a lawn mower and few leaf blowers sped past Julia’s line of sight.
“Did you see that guy? That guy used to be my landscaper, George!
I figured out he was bringing his kids over to swim in the pool during weekends I spent at the Springs, so I fired him!”
“Did you have proof?” Sanford asked.
“No! I didn’t need proof. You don’t need proof to know that a swarm of locusts have just finished dining on your crops! Do you, Sanford?” Jules replied with a snarl.
“No. I suppose you don’t, Jules. It was me. I bring Estelle and her kids over to swim in your pool, while you’re away at the Springs. It wasn’t your gardener.”
Julia turned quickly to face Sanford.
“Fuck you, Sanford! Fucking, bastard that you are!”
“Ahh, Jules, you know I would love you, even if you weren’t dipped in the gold your grandfather plucked from the mouths of sweatshop workers. But you’re becoming paranoid. For your sake, I hope you age well.”
“Leave Sanford. At this point I’m getting paranoid, as you put it, out of sheer boredom!.”
Julia shot back.
“On that note, Jules is my queen. I’ll leave you to it. Oh, before I go, I have a question.” Sanford said.
“What? What? What?” Jules yelled, with each iteration getting louder.
“You wouldn’t happen to be spending this weekend at the Springs, would you?”
“And CUT!…That was great, so great, loving the chemistry!” said the director with a flourish. “Take 10 while we finesse the lighting and then we’ll shoot it!”