Annie hauled herself up onto her elbows, out of a sated sleep, glanced at the clock on the table next to her bed and screamed.

　　"What?" Naomi asked, bolting awake.

　　"Look at the time!" Annie wailed. "My boss is going to kill me, I'm running late for a meeting!"

　　Calmly, Naomi reached for the telephone receiver and handed it to her. "Call him and tell him that you are a little bit unwell and you'll be there soon."

　　"Unwell?"

　　"Would ...