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sighed. “I guess it’s really not that big a deal, but it takes up a lot of time. Because those letters sure aren’t short.”
    “Does she actually read them?” I thought two detailed thank-you letters per semester excessive. The woman evidently needed massive sops to her ego.
    “She sure does.” Justin laughed. “Because you always get a letter back, and she comments on things. So you don’t dare skimp on the details when you write to her.”
    “That’s going way overboard on her part.” I grimaced. “I admire her for endowing scholarships, but requiring written proof of gratitude so frequently is just weird. Not to mention the bit about
growth as a mature, moral person
.”
    “Well, yeah, it is weird.” Justin shrugged again. “But without that money I’d have to go to school part-time and work full-time probably.”
    The more I found out about Vera the more fascinating—albeit distasteful—she became.
    “But why does Miss Azalea hate her so much?” Justin forked some egg into his mouth.
    I shrugged. “I haven’t the foggiest.” Had Azalea worked for Vera at some point? I couldn’t see Azalea tolerating Vera’s high-handed manner, but her reaction to Vera argued a more serious offense.
    “She must have done something pretty awful.” Justin ate more. “I mean, Miss Azalea’s not exactly a warm and fuzzy person”—his eyes glinted with amusement—“but she doesn’t usually go around bad-mouthing anybody.”
    I agreed. Azalea’s reaction implied deep animosity.
    “Definitely a mystery.” I had a bite of bacon, and suddenly a paw tapped my thigh. I glanced down at Diesel. Hisgaze riveted on the bacon in my hand, he chirped. “You’re incorrigible.” I broke off a piece and fed it to him.
    Justin laughed. “He does love bacon.”
    “That he does.” I fed the cat another piece. “That’s all.” I held up my hand to show Diesel that it was empty.
    He glared at me for a moment before he turned and walked over to Justin’s chair. His tail bristled with indignation.
    “A couple of bites,” I told Justin. “No more.”
    “Yes, sir.” He grinned as Diesel warbled for him. He broke off almost half a slice and fed it to the cat.
    “Justin.” I shook my head. “That was more than a couple of bites.”
    My boarder ducked his head briefly, but when he returned my gaze, he grinned. I suppressed a chuckle. I couldn’t be angry with him.
    Justin popped the remainder of the bacon into his mouth and held his empty hands where Diesel could see them. Diesel knew what that signal meant, even if it annoyed him.
    Tail once again in the air, Diesel marched out of the kitchen into the utility room. Justin and I shared a quiet laugh.
    “What’s so funny?” Stewart Delacorte, my other boarder, entered the room like a diva coming onstage. Once he had our attention, he preened, striking in his black suit, white shirt, and crimson tie. “Well, what do you think? Am I not simply
gorgeous
this morning?”
    “Why should today be different from any other day?” Justin flashed a grin at me. When Stewart first moved in, his assumed flamboyance had disconcerted the younger man. Now, however, Justin took Stewart in his stride, and the two had become friends.
    Stewart blew a kiss. “You are too, too sweet.” Headvanced to the table and rested his hands on the back of a chair. “I have a meeting with the president today, therefore the professional drag.” He grimaced. “I
must
have caffeine in my system if I’m going to listen to Mr. Prez blather on and on for an hour or two.” He wandered over to the counter and poured himself coffee. “Now, what were you two laughing about?”
    “Diesel.” Justin and I replied in unison.
    “How dare you laugh at that magnificent feline,” Stewart chided us in a mock-fierce tone. “Where is he, by the way?” He glanced around the room as he sipped his coffee.
    Diesel chose that moment to stroll back into the kitchen. He spotted Stewart and made a beeline