Rebecca: Hello, Woody.
Woody: Miss Howe?
Rebecca: Woody, where's Sam?
Woody: In his off- Oh, I mean, in your- In your... I... I haven't seen him.
Rebecca: Hello.
Al: Love your hairdo.

Rebecca: I don't get it. Just when I thought I had you pegged, you go out and do something like you did today. Sam, that really was the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me.
Sam: Well, you deserve to have nice things done for you. You're a very nice person.
Rebecca: So are you. Sam? [they scoot closer together]
Sam: Yeah?
Rebecca: Is that your hand on my leg?
Sam: Oh, I'll be darned. My left hand does seem to be missing, doesn't it? Do you want me to move it?
Rebecca: Yes. [Sam removes his hand] That's not what I meant.
Sam: Oh, thank you, God.
Rebecca: Ah! [dashes away from Sam] Mr. Stone! Hi! What a surprise!
Greg: Oh, good evening. I wonder if we could have the table over there?
Rebecca: Mr. Stone, I'm not the hostess. I'm Rebecca Howe, from downstairs.
Greg: Ah, yeah, of course you are. Miss Howe. I guess I ought to say welcome back. I was a little surprised you agreed to the conditions, but if you can live with them, so can we. Ah, here's the maitre d'. I wonder if I could have that table in the other room? Nice to see you again.

Rebecca: What was he talking about? What conditions?
Sam: You want some more champagne?
Rebecca: Sam, what conditions?
Sam: Well, they were so insignificant, they really slipped my mind. Uh, all right, uh. Well, uh... You have to take a slight pay cut and go back to school for your MBA and share the office with me, consult with me on all major decisions, and since you lack any practical experience, you'll have to wait tables when the bar is busy, which will put you under the immediate supervision of Carla. Any wonder it slipped my mind?
Rebecca: Sam, uh, when were you planning on telling me this?
Sam: After.
Rebecca: After what?
Sam: Afterwards.