her cranky-sassy moods that day. If she was right, then Bernice had about five minutes to get over it because the day was young, and she had a to-do list a mile long. Worrying about Bernice wasn’t on her list.
“Whatever you say, boss. Will the ladies be wanting their breakfast anytime soon?”
“Fix a plate of fruit and some of those steel-cut oats for Mavis. I expect her to come downstairs any minute since she’s always been an early riser. Sophie can share my Froot Loops. I’m not sure about Ida, maybe a boiled egg?” Toots knew whatever went in Ida’s mouth had better be as germ-free as humanly possible. She was just itching to succeed in helping Ida overcome her phobia.
“I’m on it, boss,” Bernice said. “Any tea drinkers in the group?”
“Not that I know, but don’t worry. I can nuke a cup of water if need be.” Toots wasn’t worth a grain of salt in the kitchen, but she was more than efficient when it came to the microwave.
“Whatever you say, you’re the boss.” Toots grimaced as she watched Bernice remove oranges, grapefruit, and strawberries from the refrigerator and place them on a cutting board. “Do you want me to fix you a bowl of Froot Loops, too?”
“Oh, hush, Bernice! You never fix my cereal. I don’t know what in the world has gotten into you the past few days.” Toots knew Bernice was ticked off because of all the extra work, but it wasn’t like she didn’t pitch in and help her wherever she could. Bernice was simply getting too old to work so hard. Toots had a nice retirement account set up for her. Maybe it was time to consider telling her to slow down or to out-and-out retire. Toots felt sad at the thought. As soon as she knew what her duties would be as the new owner of The Informer, she would give some serious thought to Bernice’s retirement.
Before Bernice had a chance to come back with a snappy reply, Sophie entered the kitchen, wearing a red-and-blue-plaid robe that had seen better days. “Is that coffee I smell?” she asked of no one in particular.
Toots watched as Bernice quickly looked up, then genuflected. “Does it smell like coffee?” Toots asked with a grin.
“Oh, you witch! It’s early. Every person I know says the same thing first thing in the morning.” Sophie filled a bright orange mug with coffee before finding her place at the table.
Toots refilled her own cup and sat in the chair across from her. “If you say so. Listen, I spoke with Abby before I went to bed. She’s thrilled to death at the prospect of seeing her godmothers. She’s offered to let us stay at her place, but I told her I took care of our temporary living arrangements.”
“You never were one to procrastinate. What did you do, buy a house?” Sophie asked between sips of the dark brew.
“No, but I’m sure I will sooner or later. I can’t live at the Beverly Hills Hotel forever. I heard Aaron Spelling’s mansion is on the market.”
“Lord help us all,” Bernice tossed out as she sliced a pink grapefruit.
“I hope He does because I’m going to need all the help I can get once we’re in LA. Sophie, how do you feel about living in a Hollywood bungalow for a few weeks? LA isn’t New York, so I don’t know how you’ll feel about having more than ten square feet of living space.” Toots was forever joking about Sophie and Walter’s cracker-box apartment. Before he and Sophie had married, Walter had purchased the eight-hundred-square-foot apartment for a pittance, and they’d remained there for almost forty years. Toots wasn’t sure how Sophie would react to large open spaces.
“Woof! Woof!” Coco, all five pounds of her, with nails click-clacking against the wood floors, made her grand entrance, with Mavis at her heels. “Sorry, she’s so noisy in the morning. She needs her caffeine. Did I tell you that? I share my coffee with her. I don’t think she’ll do so well going cold turkey,” Mavis huffed.
Sophie and Toots laughed.
“A Chihuahua on
“Whatever you say, boss. Will the ladies be wanting their breakfast anytime soon?”
“Fix a plate of fruit and some of those steel-cut oats for Mavis. I expect her to come downstairs any minute since she’s always been an early riser. Sophie can share my Froot Loops. I’m not sure about Ida, maybe a boiled egg?” Toots knew whatever went in Ida’s mouth had better be as germ-free as humanly possible. She was just itching to succeed in helping Ida overcome her phobia.
“I’m on it, boss,” Bernice said. “Any tea drinkers in the group?”
“Not that I know, but don’t worry. I can nuke a cup of water if need be.” Toots wasn’t worth a grain of salt in the kitchen, but she was more than efficient when it came to the microwave.
“Whatever you say, you’re the boss.” Toots grimaced as she watched Bernice remove oranges, grapefruit, and strawberries from the refrigerator and place them on a cutting board. “Do you want me to fix you a bowl of Froot Loops, too?”
“Oh, hush, Bernice! You never fix my cereal. I don’t know what in the world has gotten into you the past few days.” Toots knew Bernice was ticked off because of all the extra work, but it wasn’t like she didn’t pitch in and help her wherever she could. Bernice was simply getting too old to work so hard. Toots had a nice retirement account set up for her. Maybe it was time to consider telling her to slow down or to out-and-out retire. Toots felt sad at the thought. As soon as she knew what her duties would be as the new owner of The Informer, she would give some serious thought to Bernice’s retirement.
Before Bernice had a chance to come back with a snappy reply, Sophie entered the kitchen, wearing a red-and-blue-plaid robe that had seen better days. “Is that coffee I smell?” she asked of no one in particular.
Toots watched as Bernice quickly looked up, then genuflected. “Does it smell like coffee?” Toots asked with a grin.
“Oh, you witch! It’s early. Every person I know says the same thing first thing in the morning.” Sophie filled a bright orange mug with coffee before finding her place at the table.
Toots refilled her own cup and sat in the chair across from her. “If you say so. Listen, I spoke with Abby before I went to bed. She’s thrilled to death at the prospect of seeing her godmothers. She’s offered to let us stay at her place, but I told her I took care of our temporary living arrangements.”
“You never were one to procrastinate. What did you do, buy a house?” Sophie asked between sips of the dark brew.
“No, but I’m sure I will sooner or later. I can’t live at the Beverly Hills Hotel forever. I heard Aaron Spelling’s mansion is on the market.”
“Lord help us all,” Bernice tossed out as she sliced a pink grapefruit.
“I hope He does because I’m going to need all the help I can get once we’re in LA. Sophie, how do you feel about living in a Hollywood bungalow for a few weeks? LA isn’t New York, so I don’t know how you’ll feel about having more than ten square feet of living space.” Toots was forever joking about Sophie and Walter’s cracker-box apartment. Before he and Sophie had married, Walter had purchased the eight-hundred-square-foot apartment for a pittance, and they’d remained there for almost forty years. Toots wasn’t sure how Sophie would react to large open spaces.
“Woof! Woof!” Coco, all five pounds of her, with nails click-clacking against the wood floors, made her grand entrance, with Mavis at her heels. “Sorry, she’s so noisy in the morning. She needs her caffeine. Did I tell you that? I share my coffee with her. I don’t think she’ll do so well going cold turkey,” Mavis huffed.
Sophie and Toots laughed.
“A Chihuahua on
Similar Books
