"Always up for Chinese," I said.
My very first meal with Mark and Steven had been Chinese takeout here in the office, on a night when we'd worked well past closing and Steven had stopped by to feed us.
Mark and I headed out at noon, and I refused to feel guilty about something I enjoyed so much.
Steven was waiting for us at the restaurant, seated at a round table with a lacquered lazy Susan in the middle.
"Hey, you."
He greeted me with a big bear hug, then pulled a chair out for me.
He studied me as we both sat down.
"You look tired."
I guessed I must really look like shit, since everyone kept telling me that.
"It's been a rough week so far."
The waitress came by and Steven ordered a dim sum appetizer and the same dishes we'd shared for that first late-evening meal - kung pao chicken and broccoli beef.
When we were alone again, Steven said, "I didn't know your roommate was gay.
Did you tell us that?" "He's bi, actually."
I realized Steven, or someone he knew, must have seen the same newspaper Cary had showed me.
"I don't think it came up."
"How's he feeling?" Mark asked, looking genuinely concerned.
"Better.
He might be coming home today."
Which was something that had been weighing on me all morning, since Gideon hadn't called to tell me definitively one way or the other.
"Let us know if you need any help," Steven said, all traces of levity gone.
"We're here for you."
"Thank you.
It wasn't a hate crime," I clarified.
"I don't know where the reporter got that.
I used to respect journalists.
Now, so few of them do their homework, and fewer still can write objectively."
"I'm sure it's tough living in the media spotlight."
Steven squeezed my hand on the table.
He was a gregarious, playful fellow, but beneath that fun exterior was a solid man with a kind heart.
"But then you have to kinda expect it when you're juggling rock stars and billionaires."