Damien’s charity event—an auction to raise money for a children’s charity working in Somalia, as Brad finds out in a quick Google search—takes place at the Bowery Hotel. Brad’s never been there, or any celebrity charity auction, and over the next few days his mind grows more and more uneasy.

Right after their coffee meeting, Brad was sure that Damien asked him to go as his plus one, but on Tuesday morning he isn’t so sure anymore. Apart from looking up the charity, Brad did more googling and found a few mentions of old gossip around an affair Damien had with a male ballet dancer. There’s nothing concrete—no pictures, not even any hint as to who the dancer had been. And it was years ago, before his rise to fame, and before Damien’s marriage to Idil Phoenix. And now Brad is more confused than excited.

During the day, which is filled again with slogging through statements relating to Mr. Liu’s murder, Brad finds his attention wandering. Around lunchtime, he stands before the big whiteboard in the incidence room that holds all the open cases for so long that Eric eventually comes up to him.

“Are you all right?” he asks in a low voice.

Brad turns to him. “Hmm? Yeah, sure…”

Eric gives him an appraising look, then jerks his head toward the door. “C’mon, I’m buying you a corned beef sandwich.”

Aware of what having lunch with Eric will entail, Brad gets his jacket with some trepidation. They go to the delicatessen on the nearest corner, where the servers all know the cops and always have a booth open for them.

“So,” Eric says, as soon as they’ve ordered. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean?” Brad asks. Maybe, if he plays dumb, Eric will leave him alone. His not very high hopes are shattered by Eric’s raised eyebrow.

“You got boy trouble,” Eric declares. Brad gives a snort.

“Is that what the kids call it these days?” he asks wryly.

“Maybe,” Eric says, spreading the napkin across his lap. “I don’t know many kids.” He lowers his voice. “Is it about Aiden?”

Brad gives him a pained look. “No.”

“You went to see him, didn’t you?” Eric asks.

Brad hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, I did. Thanks again, for kicking my ass over that.” He doesn’t want to talk about seeing Aiden. His feeling are still too raw. “This isn’t about Aiden,” he clarifies again

Unfazed, Eric makes another educated guess. “You’ve been asked on a date?”

Brad hesitates again. But then, what is there to be gained from keeping it all inside? “I’m not sure,” he admits.

“Ah,” Eric says, sounding almost smug now. “Have you by any chance been asked out by a bisexual?” His expression would be fatherly if his smooth face didn’t look so ridiculously young.

“Maybe, I can’t decide.”

Eric gives a knowing smile. “That’s always confusing.”

Brad refrains from voicing the sarcastic remarks that pass through his head and merely says, “It is.”

“Well, are you going on that maybe-date?” Eric says as their plates arrive, heaped high with huge sandwiches and fries. Brad takes a couple of fries and chews slowly, to give himself time to think.

The fact that Damien is a celebrity factors in his conundrum, of course. If he goes to a public event as Damien’s date, then there will be gossip and pictures. Brad isn’t sure he wants that, or even understands what it means. But he doesn’t think he should start that gossip himself by revealing who’s asked him out. When he doesn’t speak for a while, Eric finally adds, “They’re the same as us, really. Except the competition is twice as big.”

“You’re really cheering me up,” Brad grumbles.

Eric grins. “I always try.”

“And yes, I will go,” Brad says. “It might not be a date at all. Maybe I misunderstood.”

“Is he paying?” Eric asks, politely circumnavigating the issue of Brad’s date’s identity.

“In a way,” Brad replies.

“Well then,” Eric says past a large bite of his sandwich. “Go and enjoy. Drink all the cocktails, eat all the food, and report back!”

Brad smiles. Eric’s youthful enthusiasm is endearing as always. Maybe his partner is right. He worries too much and needs to loosen up. And there will be free booze and food, at least.