El, if I'm gonna be your alibi, I need to know the real story.
Okay. Only if you promise not to tell a soul.
I promise.
I mean it, David. You say anything, and I will tell everyone that behind all the Prada, you're really the prince of San Berdoo.
Cough it up, El. What are you hiding?
Okay. You want to know the truth? The night Sydney died... I slept with a client.
I'm sorry, what?
I slept with a client.
That's it? That's your big confession?
Well, it is when their high-profile wife is also a client. Look, if this hit the blogosphere, I'd get 15 minutes of fame and a lifetime of peddling In-N-Out burgers.
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