Sweetheart?
Madison chuckled as she waited for the coffee maker to brew. "That was priceless."
“Priceless, Miss Madison?"
Jenson appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, Jenson. Just murmuring to myself. Have you eaten your dinner?"
He had a grimace on his face. She forgot sometimes not to ask him to eat with her. She was the employer, he the employee. He'd made the distinction clear from the beginning, but there were times as a child when he'd been her only company.
“Yes, Miss Madison."
“Will you be sleeping here tonight?" she asked.
“If you don't mind?"
“Not at all." She wasn't sure what a sixty-year-old man could do to defend her but the sentiment was sweet. Jenson was loyal, if nothing else. “Is the room made up for Mr. Quincy?"
“Yes, shall I wait and show him to it?"
“No need, Jenson.
