Free Razor Sharp by Fern Michaels

busy here.” Spatula in hand, Annie slid the pile of bacon from the grill onto a serving platter. She waited another minute, then added the sausage patties Bert Navarro loved.
    Myra made her way back to the kitchen, the encrypted phones in her hand. “Oh, oh! Maggie called five times. Lizzie called three times. I’m leaving them turned off until breakfast is over, and we have our heads on straight. God, Annie, how do people drink like that day after day? I hope we didn’t rot out our livers.”
    “Myra, shut up! Look, we got drunk, we’re paying for it this morning. We are never going to do it again, so just shut up. Whatever Maggie and Lizzie were calling about can wait. It’s now five minutes to six. Try to look alive even if you don’t feel like it. And, remember this, we are of an age where we do not have to explain ourselves to anyone.”
    Myra fingered her pearls with one hand as she tried to smooth down her wiry curls with the other. She shrugged. Sometimes Annie made perfect sense. Other times she was halfway to the moon.
    “My dear, you are absolutely right,” Myra said, placing a hand on Annie’s shoulder.
    “If I hurt your feelings, I’m sorry. This just hasn’t been a good time for me lately. I promise to do better. It is what it is. I’m going to build up the fire unless there’s something else you need me to do.”
    “I got it covered. Tend to the fire while I carry all this over to the sideboard. I think I hear the girls! We pulled it off, my dear. Age and determination wins out every time.”
    Myra smiled to herself as she tossed a huge log onto the dying embers. Flames shot up the chimney as the log caught and blazed to life. She returned to the kitchen to wash her hands before she joined Annie in the dining room.
    The early dawn chased away the dark, velvety shadows of the night as the girls crossed the compound, the men behind them, to the main dining room for the early breakfast they’d all been ordered to attend.
    The mountain was quiet with a blanket of over five new inches of snow that had fallen during the night. They grumbled among themselves but only because they’d all wanted to sleep in that morning.
    On the porch they stomped the snow off their boots, then slid out of them and set them aside once they were indoors.
    The blazing fire along with the aromas of fresh-brewed coffee and fried bacon put them all in a good mood as they lined up at the sideboard to fill their plates. No one made a comment about Myra and Annie looking less than fresh or that they were wearing the same clothes they’d worn the night before.
    The conversation was light, bantering, as they talked of the snow and the spring that was slow in arriving.
    Myra nibbled on dry toast and sipped at her coffee. She murmured something vague about going on a diet. Annie, on the other hand, gobbled down her own breakfast and went back for seconds. She kept up a running dialogue about planting marigolds that were guaranteed to give triple the amount of blooms if sulfur was added to the potting soil. No one was interested enough to comment.
    Yoko and Isabelle cleared the table the moment everyone placed their napkins on it, the signal that the social aspect of the gathering was at an end per Charles’s previous instructions. Old habits were hard to break.
    “I only have forty minutes before I have to head down the mountain,” Bert said as he inched his chair closer to the table. “Having said that, let me bring you up-to-date on what I know personally. I was called to the White House seven times in as many days. The new administration at the moment is in total chaos. I had two closed-door meetings with the president, and may I say she serves a good cup of coffee. She’s haggard, she’s a nervous wreck and admitted it to me. Half of her appointees are probably going to be resigning, and if they haven’t done so yet, their resignations are ready to be handed in. That old devil sex has reared its ugly head once again.