"God, Malcolm!" Harley rounds on him, pinning him to his seat with one knee between his legs and her hands on his shoulders. "It's not. Going. To happen."

Her mouth is pressed into a hard thin line and she squeezes her eyes closed as she tries to keep her shit together. "Let it go, okay?"

Harley slides off his lap to slump next to him with her head in her hands. "Just... give me a list of whatever it is you want me to say and I'll stick to the script."