Sherry went inside and turned a few times around as if trying to take it all in.

Madison tried to see it through her eyes. The king-size bed, the huge walk-in closet, and the two spacious white cabinets opposite the bed. The view through the window was the same as Jake’s and Rita Mae’s, though.

“Where does this lead to?” Sherry pointed to the door to her left. “Your room?”

“No. It leads to the master bathroom.”

“And where do you sleep?”

Time for the bomb to drop. “Here. This is my bedroom. Ours now.”

Instead of complaining, or crying or maybe even shouting, Sherry just stared at her. After what seemed to be hours, she said in a voice that left no room for argument, “I’ll sleep in Rita Mae’s room.” Not giving Madison a chance to say anything, she added, “I understand that your interior designer expected me to sleep here, but we’re alone now, so we can stop pretending. About sleeping together, I mean.”

Anger surged through Madison with unexpected vengeance. “Do you think I would attack you like an animal while you’re sleeping?”

Sherry blinked repeatedly. It seemed that she hadn’t expected this reaction from Madison. “N…no. But it’s not necessary for me to—”

Madison strode over and came to a halt just within her personal space. Using the few inches of height she had over Sherry to her advantage, she looked down at her. But before she could decide on what to tell her, a realization hit her. How likely would it be that the boy spoke with anybody about their sleeping arrangements? She could keep the bedroom to herself, and Sherry would be happy too. “Fine.”

Sherry hadn’t backed off and still held her gaze as if trying to prove she wouldn’t budge. “Fine,” she echoed, and turned to the door.

“Carmen, my cleaning lady, comes in on Tuesdays and Thursdays at eight. Make sure to be out of bed by then.”

Without looking back to her, Sherry nodded and left the room.

Madison let the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding escape.

The phone on one of her nightstands rang, ending all her thoughts about this recent encounter. She grabbed the phone and said gruffly, “Yeah?”

“Hello, Madison. It’s me.”

No further introduction was needed. “Hello, Grandmother.”

“Oh, the joy in your voice is truly touching.” A quiet clacking came through the line. Probably from the ice cubes whirling around in her grandmother’s ever-present glass of scotch. “What is this nonsense that has just come to my ears?”

Someone from the hospital had contacted her? “What are you talking about?”

“Someone has moved in with you? Several someones? And Flinton informed me, you’d arranged for a money transfer because you want to become a joint owner of a bar. That has to be a joke, right?”