A car magnate watches his personal and professional life hit the skids because of his business and romantic indiscretions.

Jimmy Merino: When my father gave me this place years ago, I used to dream about these girls. Every night, dreams, all kinds of dreams about 'em. But then I'd see them coming back after graduation. They'd come to homecomings, ballgames. They'd sit at the same tables, eat the same food. And I'd look at them and I noticed, they don't stay like this. None of 'em. They put on years and pounds and wrinkles. And I got one like that at home. So. And we can talk to each other. I know her and I'll always know her.
Ben Kalmen: You got your little jokes, you know, the Spanish thing, interests are the same, and the studying. But, um, are you getting it, you know, where it counts?
Maureen: Oh, Ben. Cheston thinks you care about him.
Ben Kalmen: This has nothing to do with him. He's never gonna know about this. Never.
Maureen: Aren't you a little old for all this?
Ben Kalmen: You're still standing here, aren't you?
Maureen: Yeah, 'cause I'm contemplating throwing this drink in your face. But I'm not going to, because I don't want Cheston to know what you just tried. So you can just walk away. Please.
Ben Kalmen: Nothing personal.
Maureen: Hey. That is it, actually. Since you asked, that's what I get from him. Something personal. Besides getting it done where it counts, which he does. Cheston and I reach each other. He's tender and sweet and smart and funny and a million things that you aren't.
Ben Kalmen: I was once, honey. It doesn't last.