Henry rose, extending his hand to take his father's in a firm grip. "It's good to see you, F..." He tilted his head.
"Okay, what do I call you in public?" he asked, a grin forming. He knew his father had an image and be all technicalities they looked the same age. Henry didn't want to blow his father's image at all by calling him Father where reporters and the papparazzi could hear him.
"Please, sit," he said. He had ordered a nice wine for them. Getting through this dinner was going to be interesting for him. He could and did eat human food when necessary, but it had lost the luster it once had in his younger years.