Don wakes up next to Joy, who's already awake and reading The Sound and the Fury. She tells him she took a survey of American literature, and I'm taking the fact she feels the need to mention this as a reference to her being European, but Don hasn't figured this out, merely asking if she's in school. She tells him she was at Pembroke, as Willy has a house in Rhode Island, so "it seemed convenient." This explains her lack of a European accent, I suppose. Don admits that he's never read the book, but while she deems it merely "okay," she says the sex is good. "I like sex." I never would have guessed. She says she can tell he does too, like sex is some weird delicacy instead of a biological need, and then, after they hear Greta and Carlos arguing through the wall, Willy enters, sits on the bed, and tells Joy that "Christian" and the kids will soon be joining them. Joy gets a pouty attitude about the news, which suggests that Christian can only be her brother, and then Willy stares at a shirtless Don like he's going to kick Joy right out of the bed, declaring, "You are so beautiful!" Joy tells him in French not to touch him, and seriously, I get the theme of European sexual fluidity here, but asking for your daughter's literal sloppy seconds is a bit much for me. I mean, I've heard things about people from the Continent not liking to shower, but this is ridiculous. Oh, that's right, in case you hadn't guessed, Willy is Joy's father. (I think Rocci is her mother, but who the hell knows with this crowd?) Don, having a thousand and one questions after that exchange, settles on, "That's your father?" Which is really a neat way of asking about three hundred of them. Joy "explains" that he doesn't want people to think he's old. Here's an idea: Just For Men. The name alone should intrigue you.
Pete apparently got out of his business dinner alive, and is taking a half-full view of Don's absence as he sets up another meeting by the pool. (For the trivia-minded, Pete tells the guy he can't drive, in case that's ever relevant.) A couple of his papers blow into the path of two oncoming women, who pick them up and hand them to him. However, when he tries to strike up a conversation, they simply keep walking. Non-speaking extras can be so standoffish.
Duck enters a restaurant, heads over to table, and greets "Saint John Powell," played by Charles Shaughnessey, whom viewers of The Nanny will remember as "Missstaaaaaah Sheffffffffffffffffffffffield!" I think I spelled that right. Powell and Duck apparently worked together in England, and Powell introduces his companion, "Alec Martin." Duck hasn't been seated for five seconds before Martin pushes some booze on him, but he begs off, saying he's got a cold. After Powell basically calls him the biggest lush that ever lived, they tell him they won't be in New York long, so Duck gets down to business by asking for a position at his old firm. Powell, however, tells him it isn't a good time, although he says if they were hiring, he'd be at the top of the list. The waiter has conveniently just brought Powell's offer of another round of martinis, so when Martin proposes a toast to their "noble profession," Duck finally succumbs to the pressure that's been building on him all season and takes a sip before quickly downing the rest in one gulp. Seems like a good time to buy stock in Martini & Rossi. Duck bluntly asks if Powell thinks he has nothing to offer, and then, at Powell's unconvincing denial, points out that Powell's firm represents over twenty American companies but still doesn't have a U.S. presence, and suggests they buy Sterling Cooper to remedy that. I doubt this is what Roger meant by "making rain," but Duck's certainly showing more creativity here than anyone might have guessed. Intrigued, Powell says he didn't know SC was for sale, but when Duck tells him about Roger's imminent divorce-fueled financial woes, Powell asks Martin to give them a moment alone. When it's just the two of them, Powell asks if Roger sent him there with a price, but Duck makes it clear that he's doing this on his own initiative, and lays out his terms -- a two percent finder's fee, purview over all international business, and the presidency of the U.S. concern. Powell looks impressed with Duck's newfound balls, and Duck takes the opportunity to down another drink. I hope the offer doesn't come through the next morning, because he is going to be in no shape to handle it.