“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.” He advanced 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 for him.

Stewart tried to hold the cat off, because he well knew Diesel intended to rub himself against his legs. “Darling kitty, I adore you, but I don’t want to have to de-hair myself.” He glanced over at me. “Why is it that they simply must get their hair on anything black?”

Diesel sat on his haunches and gazed up at Stewart. He warbled twice.

“I think he may be telling you his hair is special.” Justin laughed.

“It is.” Stewart flashed a grin. “But not on my best suit, and not when I have a command performance.” He kept a wary eye on the cat as he approached the table and took the chair to my right.

Justin glanced at his watch. He pushed back his chair. “Sorry, gotta get going. See y’all later.” He waved to Diesel as he trotted out of the room. Moments later I heard him run lightly up the stairs.