Dewalt was waiting, sitting in a big leather booth at the Waldorf’s Bulls & Bears bar when Neal arrived. It was late afternoon and the place was buzzing with business suits, and out of towners. The room was dim, all dark wood, dark leather, high banquette seating, old world men’s club. Neal—in his ankle length dark wash skinny jeans, pink V-neck T-shirt and chunky Roman sandals—felt a bit too impish. Dewalt smiled, gold teeth gleaming. He had on a button-down blue shirt and dark jeans. Respectable. Dewalt stood as Neal approached, then grabbed him for a hug and lip kiss. Neal looked around. Nobody seemed to notice. He sat in the booth, leaving the two outside facing chairs for his parents. Dewalt was drinking a beer. Neal wondered if he ever did drugs. He gave up dealing but that didn’t me
