From the outside, the house looks gray and cold, but the interior is almost ludicrously majestic. There is a sweeping staircase leading to the second floor, and a beautiful, glittering chandelier hangs in the foyer. To the left I glimpse the spacious living room with its lush, gilded furniture and an ornate fireplace. With a hand on the small of my back, Julian steers me towards the right and walks me through wide double doors into a rather messy office. “Please, take a seat, anywhere you like...or rather, anywhere you can find a space,” he mumbles, hastily clearing away stacks of files and papers from the leather chairs. He dumps them on a desk that is already overflowing with charts and papers and strewn stationery. Facing me, he stuffs one hand in his pocket and scratches his head with his other hand. He suddenly seems awkward and unsure of what to do. Clearing his throat, he turns around in a half circle, toppling a leaning tower of files in the process. “Oh, sh...sorry. Would you...like some tea?”
