Narrator: But of course, he’d also yet to figure out she was a prostitute.

Nellie: Well, I was buried in loan debt from business school, so I started whoring myself out.

Narrator: Not that there weren’t clues.

Nellie: What do you say we go up to my room and seal the deal?

Michael: Even if we’re not related, I think I would like for you to work here. You’re very, very good at it. What you do for a job is not really a great way to make a living, you know?

Nellie: I make 300 grand a year.

Michael: Marry me. It’s weird on so many levels.