Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Cliff nodded generously, "Yeah, I stay in touch with Roseanne quite a bit. What's up?"

York narrowed his eyes, as if he could see through everything, "I know what you're getting at."

"Whether it's me and Roseanne keeping in touch, or my willingness to lend her a hand today, you're wondering if it's because of your connection to her, or if it's all about Roseanne herself." York paused, then continued, "Let me be clear, it's all about Roseanne herself, and it has nothing to do with you. Cliff feels the same way." Murray frowned.

"Why?"

York chuckled, "Isn't it all about give and take between people? You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, and that's how relationships are built."

"You think Roseanne's just been a shadow to you these past six years? We meet up at least a couple of times a month, right? We've had plenty of chances to get to know her."

"Take Cliff, for instance. If I'm not mistaken, didn't Roseanne help you out with your computer, even wrote some software for you?"

"Yeah!" Cliff nodded vigorously, "Roseanne's a wizard with coding. That time I nearly got screwed over with financial shenanigans on a project investment, it was Roseanne who wrote an auto-accounting software that helped me sort out that mess." "And then there was that time..."

Cliff went on and on, but the more Murray listened, the more confused he became.

The "Roseanne" they were talking about, was she really the same person as the "Roseanne" he remembered, who would always wait for him to come home and meticulously plan everything for him?

Cliff added, "And don't forget, Roseanne's helped you out too..."

"Cough!" York interrupted, "That's enough, I'm off. You guys should head home too."

he quickly jumped

"Let's go, driver."

...

got a contact request from York and quickly added

was immediately accepted, triggering

you're an author, please

you're looking

for urgent matters, please

then picked out a suspense novel she had written last year, sent it over in a Word

there was no reply

much, figuring a response might come in a

deeper,

the door, smiling like a hostess

but admire her

Millie reached out to help him, the smell

the housekeeper, to

he had only had a

drunk meant Millie wouldn't cling to him,

be drunk was the

upstairs to the master bedroom, then went