"Thanks," Freddy replies, giving a boyish smile that betrays his age of--oh fuck he turned thirty with Lawrence Dimick. What a milestone. His hair flopping this way and that with his fingers is still as butterscotch as ever.

The drive to San Domingo's is easy. Everything's easy when you live nearest the good side of the city, the affluent edge. It's not the same affluence of the Hollywood hills but for a place like this, they are somebodies. Enough to be left alone. Their arrival is without ceremony, just the way Freddy likes it. Valet? You bet. Larry's the big tipper after all.