“We have guests.

We have twelve dozen oysters on ice.

You cannot simply turn us off our own yacht.”

“It isn’t your yacht,” Kira said again, without heat, and handed Winston a blue carbon copy of the notice.

“And as of three minutes ago, the personal guarantees attached to the Southampton residence and to your commercial lines at Harborstone have cross-defaulted.

Formal eviction notices for the estate will be served by five o’clock today.”