THE HARKEYS AT HOME
The sun nestled on the edge of the Pacific and sent out those little shimmery glimmers towards the windows in their mansion in Dana Point at the Ritz Cove.
Dan Harkey reached over and touched his wife's hand, Assemblywoman Diane Harkey. The months at Orange County Superior Court were over for the time being.
"Well, honey, we lost. Judge Perk and the jury decided I was guilty of "malice, oppression or fraud" in breaching my fiduciary duties to investors in my company. Plus Elder Financial Abuse. I got a $10 million fine, and another million in punitive. And I'm only worth $9 million."
They both sighed as their sun sank.
She sat down her Absolut and turned to him. "Honey, think of the bright side. Your company, Point Center Financial, is worth $110,000,000. That's something. We can start over."
His face brightened and suddenly the masses of forehead furrows almost smoothed away.
"You're right, Diane! Of course you're right. I don't have to worry about paying off the other thousand investors since they haven't sued me. I declared bankruptcy."
"Yes!" Her enthusiasm built and soared. "We can check the Yellow Pages tonight for some old folks homes all across California and maybe, maybe even into Arizona. You can pitch your trust deeds there. They won't know the difference. They're old!"
He left, returned with a bottle of Crystal and two crystal stemmed flutes.
Dan smiled and looked directly into her narrow eyes, then poured.
"Pretty soon you will be elected to the Board of Equalization, and we will be back in shape again," he said.
"No more attacks from Patch or the OC Register or OC Weekly or The Desert Sun or the Arizona Republic," he said. "Or that damn LA Times," she added.
They raised their glasses to the ocean.
In unison, they exclaimed: "To America!"
