Betty comes outside and gushes over the new ride, and she and Don hop in together. He seems genuinely pleased at her enthusiasm, and she adds that he deserves it, as he works so hard. She then brings up Jimmy's party, which Don didn't yet know about, and speculates that Jimmy likes talking to her. However, since she's not showing any skin, Don doesn't get upset, and Betty suggests they take a ride. Don: "Not in here." Heh.
Jane's carrying her things, but instead of heading to the elevator, she goes straight to Roger's office. She knocks and enters, and tells him goodbye. Roger says that "Draper's a tough desk," but when Jane tells him it was Joan who fired her, he offers her a drink and the opportunity to tell him what happened. She gets a little teary as she says she's just trying to do her job, and Roger tells her that Joan is going through a tough time. "She's engaged, you know." Heh. Jane convincingly quivers her lower lip and Roger finally manages to elicit her address from her ("Jane on Jane Street. It's a pretty picture") and then tells her to go home and come back on Monday, and the whole thing will have been taken care of. Joan does not strike me as the type to forgive, let alone forget, so you'd think Roger is offering to directly intervene. The fact that he doesn't makes me think either that he doesn't find Jane all that attractive, or, far more likely, he's starting to lose it. Not being aware of this at this moment, though, Jane thanks Roger effusively, and leaves.
Sal's home with his wife Kitty, who's being played (unrecognizably, to me) by Sarah Drew, who Everwood fans will remember as Hannah. The bell rings, and Kitty answers it to find Ken with a big bouquet and compliments on how great the meal smells. Kitty passes the credit to "the Maestro," and given everything that's going to happen she might as well hand the flowers off to him as well. Sal shakes Ken's hand and goes to get him a drink, and Ken takes in the décor, which I can't see much of at this point but still might describe as sixties kitsch. Kitty gives credence to this by saying that she and Sal "let [them]selves go," and then tells him that she grew up a block away from Sal in Baltimore. "I guess I just always had a crush on an older man." Nothing wrong with that -- what made you pick a gay one instead? Sal adds that when he moved his mother up there (like the good Italian he is), Kitty came as well, and then gets Ken to taste the sauce: "Be honest. I'm fragile." Heh. Ken loves it, but then tells Sal he doesn't want to keep worrying about what he thought, so: What did he think? Sal assures Ken that he loved the story, and Kitty chimes in that he wouldn't stop talking about it, but also wouldn't let her read it. Sal's outside voice: "I didn't know how you felt." Sal's inside voice: "When I read your story, it was like we were the only two people in the world, and my wife horning in would have been weird for a host of reasons from which you can take your pick." More pleasantries are exchanged, and then Sal proposes a toast to the story, which just so happens to be episode-titled "The Gold Violin." Ken tells Sal that he saw one at the Met. "It's perfect in every way, except it couldn't make music." A lot of people would find that an appropriate nickname for Ace Young, then. (That one's for Joe R.) The food is served, and Sal digs in as heartily as you might expect from someone who's sublimating hardcore.