“Julius, you look like hell.”
With a sigh, he turned to face an older version of himself. March was ten years his senior, and growing up the brothers had been quite close. Their connection remained to this day. Standing next to each other, it was not difficult to see the family resemblance: sandy blonde hair, gray eyes, prominent nose, chin and jaw. They could almost be twins.
Julius gave his brother a warning look before sipping his whiskey. All around them were people dressed in fine suits and summer dresses despite the lingering chill. The air had a party feel with balloons and even a DJ as they crowded the wide, stone patio surrounding the pool of the DaLair family estate. A large sign declared: Happy Birthday, Augustus!
At sixty-five, the DaLair’s reigning patriarch was
