The restaurant was one of the more extravagant establishments on the planet, built on a floating terrace overlooking a vast city of shimmering towers and glowing avenues. Soft music drifted through the open hall while attendants moved silently between the tables, and the entire place carried the relaxed atmosphere of somewhere where people came to spend ridiculous amounts of money simply because they could.
I found Steve almost immediately.
He was sitting comfortably at one of the finest tables near the edge of the terrace, looking completely at ease with one arm resting over the back of his chair and a drink lazily held in his other hand.
Two women were sitting across from him, one a demon with smooth crimson skin and curved horns, the other a Feran whose fluffy ears occasionally twitched whenever Steve said something particularly outrageous.
I stopped behind a nearby pillar and watched him for a moment. Apparently, three years had done nothing to improve his modesty.
