Four Faces Of Jezebel

There were eight of us: four couples, friends for years. We loved one another dearly; we were as close as fleas.
It was Monday morn; it had snowed all weekend. The federal government had closed for a snow day. We all worked for the federal government. We had a day off.
The phones started ringing at 10:00 a.m. “We will all meet in the lounge and have lunch together. Bring what you have in the refrigerator—anything cooked and ready to eat. We will buy fire logs to burn in the hanging fireplace.” The lounge we were to meet in was in the condominium complex in which we all lived.
The gathering place was a raised platform two steps up from the floor, about twelve feet long by ten feet wide. Against one wall was a full wall-length upholstered bench. In the middle of the platform was a table about the size of two bridge tables side by side. Hanging from the ceiling and off to one side was a fireplace with a stovepipe chimney vented to the outside. Opposite the bench on the open side of the platform was a polished brass railing to keep users from falling off. And leaning against it were four cane chairs. Off to the side of the platform were restrooms—one for women, one for men; on the opposite side were three pool tables and in the same area a ping-pong table.