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Wife tries her best to save husband's job.

Cleaned up, he looked like any regular guy, minus of course the bruise on his cheek.

"Now that you are dressed, let's sit down and talk a deal," I said, motioning towards the bed. I sat down on the edge of it and he did the same, facing me as I spoke. Sarah and Freddie lingered away from us, trying to stay as neutral as they could. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet, removing a gold credit card from it's sleeve.

"Do you know what this is? It's a credit card. More importantly, it's a credit card with a $2 million limit on it. I've never used it as it is a company card but take it, it's yours. Feel free to max it out if you want, buy whatever you want with it," I said, handing it to him. It occurred to me that he would now know the name of my company but I couldn't really think of a way to avoid showing it.

Randy sat silent as I continued. "Freddie, what kind of car do you drive?" I asked.

"Dodge Viper, 2001 model," he said.

"Give me your keys," I replied. Freddie reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, tossing them to me from across the room.

"This car is yours now too. In exchange for all this, last night never happened. You never came here and never saw anything. If anyone asks, you got in a fight with someone at a bar. If you keep up your end of the bargain, that credit card will stay active for as long as it takes for you to max it out and the car will be transferred to your name. If you don't however, I will call the cops on you and have you arrested for solicitation, not to mention have the car and it's plates reported stolen," I said.

"So you're paying me off in exchange for keeping quiet?" Randy said finally. I couldn't tell if he was having a moral dilemma or just getting his facts straight. Judging by the way he gripped the card and keys, it had to have been the latter.

"Pay off is such a harsh phrase," I said. "Let's just call it a gift from two of your Hollywood friends. So, do we have a deal?"

Randy seemed to consider this for a second, staring down at his lap while he thought. "Yeah, I suppose so. I know that Freddie didn't mean for this to happen, nor did Sarah, so if it's just an accident than no harm no foul I suppose," he said.

"That's the kind of talk I like to hear," I said, extending my hand for a handshake. He returned it, his shake surprisingly firm for someone who had been through such a rough time. "Good. Great. Everyone is happy. Now, I know that traffic is going to be getting tough out there real soon. Freddie, why don't you walk our friend Randy out won't you?"

Freddie nodded and headed for the stairs, Randy following right behind. Sarah seemed to linger in the door way for a moment and then followed behind them. Not wanting to be left in the room alone, I came with them as well.

We all watched as Freddie climbed into the car, a jet black beautiful machine that seemed to purr like a kitten when he started the engine. Watching him go until he was just a speck on the Pacific Coast Highway, the three of us stood awkwardly on the front step.

"I guess I'll go clean up my mess," Freddie said, his voice showing exhaustion but also signs of relief that the problem was solved.

That left Sarah and I on the doorstep alone. We stood in silence for a few moments, watching the waves crash onto the rocks a hundred feet below us.

"You know, you really didn't have to do that for us Dean," Sarah said finally. The ocean breeze whipped around the two of us, the salty air making you squint and your hair flying in undetermined directions.

"Actually Sarah, I did. It's my job. Remind me to tell Freddie that I will buy him a new car when I get back to the city," I said. We stood side by side, staring off into the distance.

"What about the money? $2 million is a hell of a lot for something like this," Sarah said.

"Well, if it costs me two million to get you and Freddie $15 million per picture later down the road, then so be it.

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