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I'm glad you spoke up. I had to stop myself because I almost said you were my boyfriend. I'm certain she would have got a rise out of that. I smiled broadly. I peered through the front door's glass. A blond, lean and muscular six footer, in a blue velvet blazer and white slacks, climbed from the jeep, reached for his briefcase, and strode toward the house. He knocked, then boomed, Linda? Fred? I tied the robe's belt, opened the door, and smiled, I'm Ellen. Linda and Fred left on vacation. My husband and I their 'official' house-sitters. Frustrated, he apologized, Sorry. My name's Jack. I'm a vice president at the bank. Linda's my secretary.
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