Nathan's troubles kick off a music sequence in which we see Susan, alone in her apartment, sitting down to dinner and a glass of wine. She pauses and lets her face fall into her hands, rubbing her eyes briefly before sighing, sitting up, and beginning dinner.
Luka sits in a blue-tinged, seedy bar, nursing what looks like a whiskey on the rocks. A pretty blonde Janel Moloney stunt double sidles up to him and perches attractively on the stool to his left. "You look like you've had one of those days," she says. "What do you do?" Luka opens his mouth, then bites back his answer and laughs. "I'm a jockey," he grins. Ooh, yeah. Ride 'em, Luka baby. "Ah, he has a sense of humor," Janel smiles. Luka shoots one back at her and then stares straight ahead, silent. "Pretty dead in here tonight," she observes. "That's the way I like it," Luka says quietly. "I don't buy that. You look like a guy who knows how to have fun," she purrs gently. As they make giggly eye contact, Luka's mobile phone rings. He answers; it's me, calling to beg for sex and a second chance. He should probably give it to her so that he and I can continue our illicitly hot rendezvous, but damn it, my husband tweaked Luka's conscience when he visited him earlier. Luka hangs up on me curtly, telling me not to call again. But I don't know when to give up, so I call again immediately. I am a slut. Luka hangs up without even speaking to me. Great. Now I'm stuck with my sad-eyed shlub of a husband.