"They're also rich as hell," Malcolm pointed out. "Personal chefs and personal trainers do a lot for a fitness level."

Malcolm had neither, but he knew this world.

Malcolm sat down on Raylan's right, leaving the centre seat facing the MC for his mother, who hadn't arrived yet. Then Raylan would be a nice-sized buffer between her and Malcolm's... well, depending on her mood, she would consider them either his 'dietary requirements' or his 'picky eating'.

"Other than it being free?" he joked at Raylan's quip. He flagged down a waiter and ordered a scotch for himself, then looked to Raylan for his order.