The main hall doors slammed back against the wall, bringing a wave of wet wind with them. Margaret marched in first, her wet coat leaving a trail of fog and damp wool behind her. Right on her heels was a tall guy in a grey suit, jaw locked, eyes tracking the room as he’d rather be anywhere else.
I stayed on the bottom stair, my hand on the banister. Above me, Julian paused with his whiskey glass, staring down at Margaret. The guy with her didn't miss a beat; his eyes flicked over Julian, then locked onto me.
"David," Margaret said, her voice flat and completely in control. "This is your brother, Julian. And this is Tamara, who has been staying here." She gave a quick, dismissive wave between us. "David will be acting as my personal estate advisor from today. He has full access to the g
