"Well," Harvey said, eyebrows raising slightly, "I will give you that you're more mature than I am. But if we were having a maturity contest, I think we'd both lose anyhow so it's not really a valid comparison." And that wasn't exactly true, but Harvey was trying to be a little light-hearted. The fact was that Glibt really was a lot more serious than Harvey was. They could pretend they were both a couple of immature men far younger than they currently were, though.
"And no, I would never do anything like that. I'm a politician, after all..." he snorted. Definitely not a crack at Mark. A crack at Mark's brother, on the other hand... He grinned back at Glibt as the front door of the apartment building was opened for them and he led Glibt in and towards the elevator. It was a nice, proper apartment building and yes, it was far different from the room above Castro Cameras that he kept back in San Francisco.
"You'll just have to make sure you smile and laugh as much as you work so you can still convince people they're laugh-lines, huh?" he said as he pushed the button on the elevator and the doors closed in front of them. He was up a few floors and figured that Paul was already up there - no doubt doing a sweep of the apartment to make sure nothing was out of place. A few seconds later the doors opened and Harvey nodded down the hall, "I'm not sure there actually is one, but I'm going to say 'excuse the mess' anyhow..." he said, pushing the already unlocked door open.
Paul's bag was dropped on the end of an L-shaped sofa opposite of the doorway and a whole side of the room was floor to ceiling windows looking out over the theater district. There was paperwork strung out over the top of a long table in the corner closed-in terrace and, though it took a moment to notice her, an almost entirely black Doberman had perked up and was sitting next to the island counter between the living room and the kitchen. "Home, sweet home," Harvey announced, setting his bag on the counter.