"How can you stand it?" Bekka Sanderson growled, slamming down the phone. The reverberation echoed through the living/dining room of the two-bedroom apartment.
Rene Ackley stopped, toast in her mouth, caught in the doorway coming from the kitchen. She gasped as the swinging door slapped her rear, and stumbled over to the saggy old couch a little faster than she intended. She sat as she chewed three times and swallowed, barely tasting the peach preserves. A shower of crumbs spattered across her green summer pajamas.
"Excuse me, but aren't you supposed to be starry-eyed and cooing when you get off the phone with your fiancé?"
Her roommate gave her a narrow-eyed glare. Then she looked down at the phone sitting on the molting olive green throw rug next to her. A grin replaced her exasperation.
"You're right, but Shane called to warn you, so you could avoid the gym for a while. He warned Vic, first, since he's in the danger zone." Bekka raked sleep-tangled brunette strands out of her face with both hands.
Rene took another bite of toast and wondered if she needed to get some coffee. Mondays, she didn't open the Gold Tone Gym, so she preferred to stay in her pajamas at least until seven a.m. Maybe her brain was getting soggy from sleeping in. She wondered what kind of trouble Bekka and her fiancé thought she and her business partner, Vic were in. Their other roommate, Kat, was the more dramatic one. Lately, thanks to weirdness going on between the students of the BWU experimental summer theater program and something she called a slaughter blog, Kat saw danger and threats everywhere she looked.