“I’ll admit I was hard on you last week.

I let the pressure of my real estate deals cloud my judgment.”

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together.

“Let’s take this conversation inside to the sitting room,” Richard said, waving toward the open glass door.

“Come in out of the cold.”

I picked up my tea mug and followed them through the door into the sitting room.

It smelled of cedar polish, old wool rugs, and the cold rain tapping at the leaded glass windows.