One International Bank: Bridget tries to figure out Siobhan's ATM password, but it's no use. She finally approaches the teller, says she forgot her bank account PIN and would like to withdraw some money. The teller asks for her license and does a long, slow compare, then asks Bridget to come with her. But it's just because she's filthy rich, y'all. The bank manager likes to handle the monied customers, personally. He tells Bridget, "Special clients get special treatment." Bridget wants to withdraw the balance of her checking account. Mr. Atkins tells her there's not much in there. I think we'll want to know that for future reference -- not because of anything that happens in this episode, but just because the Martins live as if they're wealthy, so it seems curious Shiv's checking account would be so low that the bank manager wouldn't at least let "Shiv" decide if what's in there is enough.
Anyhow, he mentions the special account she set up with him a month ago, for "emergencies." Bridget smiles. "Does a shoe sale at Bergdorf's constitute an emergency?" Atkins laughs and Bridget is off in a flash with the cash. She gets in a cab and asks to go to the airport. She's no sooner on her way than she gets a call on Shiv's cell from Andrew's office. She ignores it and it goes to voice mail, but seconds later, it's ringing again. Bridget answers. It's Andrew. He asks if Juliet's home yet and once he learns she is and is "fine" in Bridget's world, he tells her his crisis du jour. A pipe burst at the venue, so he needs to book something on short notice. Bridget is all, "For..." Because she doesn't know about the cocktail party planned for that evening. Was it not in Shiv's orange magic dayplanner. Tsk tsk, Shiv. Of course, Andrew has decided to have the party at the unfinished loft where Dead Guy is currently resting, in relative peace, if (sadly) not in pieces. Bridget tries to argue with him, but Andrew won't take no for an answer. Besides, he's already sent the event planner over. Commercial.
Bridget doesn't take this opportunity to get the hell out of Dodge. No. She rushes back to the loft which is already full of the event staff, moving in chairs, rugs and whatnot. There's a fake out, where they're unrolling a rug just as Bridget enters. She yells, "Wait," sure that they're unwrapping Dead Guy, but nope, just a rug. Now, the event planner is not gay. He's ecstatic. As Bridget eyes the tarp wrapped lump in the corner that is Dead Guy, Ecstatic Event Planner (EEP) tells her she looks gorgeous as usual. "Per your suggestion, I went with a Titanic vibe, antiquated elegance, steamer trunks, violins, gin and tonics. It'll feel very Euro and travel-y and make people want to hand over their money. Do you like?" Bridget says she does and suggests they give the workers a break. EEP protests there's no time, but Bridget insists and hands him a wad of cash as she adds, "There's a bacon food truck downstairs and I'm buying." EEP: "Well, tempt me with trans-fats and I can't say no." Aren't trans-fats illegal in New York? And hey, bacon has its problems, but I don't think trans-fats are among them. I'm looking at you, nitrites. Deadly, delicious nitrites. Anyhow, EEP and crew take 20 minutes for lunch, leaving Bridget time to put dead guy in one of the huge steamer trunks. Now, it's only 20 minutes so there's sadly no way she had time to use that circular saw. How skinny little Bridget got Dead Guy in the trunk is beyond me, but I don't care with this kind of show. I'm just going with it. (Psssst. She can do it, because she's really Buffy.)