Steven picks up a pile of things, with his picture of Laura on top, and takes a look around his apartment. Suitably disgusted, he decides to clean up, and there's a montage of scrubbing, unpacking, and throwing things out. When it's all done, he's in a sparse but clean apartment. When he's done he checks the time, but realizes he has no watch. He decides to skulk outside until someone passes and he can ask the time -- it's 7:40 AM. Of course, Carlos is actually the stranger who helps him as he hustles by. Steven's got the classic "now what?" on his face. I in no way believe that he really cleaned up everything in that time -- it was light out when he first realized that he lived in a garbage dump, and even best-case scenario, that would have given him an hour in a half. Since we saw him dump out a bag of cleaning supplies that it looks like he ran out and got that moment, I refuse to believe he overhauled his apartment, went shopping, and cleaned everything in that amount of time. It's the one thing that's a little irksome about this show -- I understand that it's TV, but on a show that's supposed to portray reality, a little attention to detail would be nice.
An NYC montage -- including a couple making out on the sidewalk -- takes us to Carlos telling his co-worker about how amazing it was that he ran into Mae and they went on a great date. He's beaming and admits that this is him not only giddy but without sleep, and his co-worker dryly points out how happy that will make his clients. Inside the courtroom, the two flip through case files and Carlos, apparently buoyed by the love of a good woman, decides that after two years defending petty thieves, he's up for a felony case, even though it wasn't assigned to him. He tells his buddy, "Possession of a deadly weapon. I like that." His clearly more rational buddy replies, "Look, I'm not saying you're not the best public defender in the history of them, but don't let one date with a pretty girl who plays hard to get boost your ego to the point of self-destruction!" I like this guy, he's logical. I'm sure he won't be around much. Carlos only tells him, "Today is my day. I can do anything," and skips out of the courtroom.
Whitney and Roy are curled up in bed, and the director decided that to portray "relaxed, happy, and romantic," he'd curl up Bridget Moynahan so that she's wrapped around the guy, contorting her back so that her head is on his chest. Watching her, all I want to do is stretch. Well, stretch and yell at my TV screen until this fictional character can actually hear me, since every sign points to "Run! Run Away Now!" For instance, she suggests writing their own vows, which he basically makes fun of by telling her he wants nothing to do with it, doesn't like poetry, doesn't like the idea, and just wants a couple of "I do"s and a party. She's taken aback, but tries to be understanding. He realizes he needs to act like he actually wants to make his fiancÃ©e happy, so he says they should do their own vows, joking as if it was his idea in the first place. How romantic, crushing her spirit and then giving her a little love back as if it's a brightly wrapped gift.