Her cheeks are pink, likely from heading up and down the stairs to her living quarters. Situated over the garage, it’s more of a studio apartment than a room. I’d ordered furnishings for it after she’d left Tuesday, paying top dollar for rush delivery. When I bought the house, I figured it’d be wasted space gathering dust. Now it’s home to Cecelia ‘Cece’ Cook, the curvy caregiver whose leggings I consider banning as she turns to look at something Lady’s chattering about. Oh, fuck. That ass could inspire world peace.
