Melrose Place

Lauren:
What are you doing?

Ella:
[holding an envelope of cash she found in Lauren's wardrobe] I was just going to ask you the same thing, pretty woman. The late nights. The amazing wardrobe. The mystery men. How did I not figure this out sooner?

Lauren:
Figure what out? My dad sent me that money for school.

Ella:
Yeah, who's your dad, Tony Soprano? This is a brick of cold cash.

Lauren:
He won it playing poker. He's been playing every Wednesday night, ever since I was a kid.

Ella:
Lor, it's the middle of the afternoon, and you're dressed like a million bucks. Which better be in the ballpark of what you're charging.

Lauren:
I was at a luncheon, okay? An interns special honors lunch. And I resent you interrogating me like I'm some kind of...

Ella:
Prostitute? [Lauren yanks the envelope out of Ella's hand] You're right. I'm sorry. Having said that, if you help my client, maybe I can relieve you from some of your intern luncheons.

Lauren:
You're not seriously still trying to get me to change Jessie's hospital records?

Ella:
Wow, Lauren. I'm confused. You refuse to screw the system just a little bit, but you have no problem at all screwing...

Lauren:
Hey. Seriously, stop.