Taking Tiffany by MK Harkins Page B

hell…I mean, where the heck it is.”
    “Over this way,” Mr. English accent said from behind. His voice was so…ugh! It was deep and sensual when he wasn’t shouting about how I was the worst person on the planet. “And you shouldn’t be swearing in front of the children.”
    “I corrected myself! Open your ears Mr. Proper English-man.”
    He turned toward me, hands on hips. I mimicked his stance, but I couldn’t quite pull off intimidating like he could. Not with a rug rat attached to my leg. I watched as his entire demeanor shifted.
    He squatted down to speak kindly to Ivy. “How are you doing today, Mirela?”
    She buried her head in my leg and shook her head.
    “We were just going to find the cafeteria.” That’s when I heard it, that same squeaky sound when I’d first entered the office.
    “Ivy,” she said as she pointed to herself. Oh, I guess she does talk after all.
    “Yeah. We just had a little chat. I decided I’d call her Ivy.”
    Dr. Stefan rose slowly with a blank look on his face. He turned and walked away. Great. I’d probably already broken some rule.
    “Well, it looks like we won’t get an escort from the doctor. But he pointed in this direction.” What was his problem anyway? I rolled my eyes. Whatever.
    We did manage to find our way to the cafeteria with a few helpful tugs on my leg. Ivy must have visited already. Too bad she wouldn’t eat. The food wasn’t disgusting, a bit bland, but at least it didn’t have bugs crawling out of the stew. When I first arrived—was it only hours ago?—I assumed the food would be inedible.
    “Really, Ivy. It isn’t horrible. It’s not great, but…look, there aren’t bugs,” I coaxed, tipping her bowl so she could see.
    I was rewarded by another hint of a smile. Progress. Once I got her to eat, I could shake her loose. Literally.
    Maybe she wasn’t eating because of the chaos in the room. It was a large space with ten round tables all within a few feet of each other. Five children and one adult sat at each. I hadn’t met everyone yet, but they all seemed to know I was coming. Once Ivy and I entered the room, we received distracted waves as the workers tried to either help or contain the children. Loud talking and laughter filled the room. I could barely think straight. It was no wonder Ivy froze up and wouldn’t eat.
    “Ivy, let’s blow this Popsicle stand. I’ve got something better.” And I did.
    Limping, walking, and dragging across the property, back to my hut, took up most of my energy. I opened the door, ready to be assaulted by the horrible stench of death, but I was met with…lemons? Without the smell that catapulted me outside the first time, I was able to take a good look around. My living quarters were about ten-by-ten feet, with exposed beams and a thatched roof with bits of sunlight seeping through. That meant I would also feel the rain. Great. I loved the rain, but sleeping with it while it pelted me? Not so much. But I’d worry about that later.
    At least it was clean, or at least it looked clean. I lifted the sheets that covered the small twin bed. I’d always slept on a queen, so this would be another adjustment. The sheets smelled good, like fresh linen. Elise must have changed them. The blanket was worn, but also appeared newly washed. A small, wooden dresser was tucked into the corner. I slowly opened each drawer, half expecting some hideous creature to spring out. But nope, all clear.
    Another door on the far wall beckoned me. A closet, I hoped. Again, opening it carefully, I was pleasantly surprised to find a bathroom that included a toilet and shower. Granted, it was bare bones, but still a welcome sight. The toilet looked like it was from the 1920s and the shower didn’t even have a curtain. By the long shape of the hut, I assumed I’d share this bathroom with whomever lived on the other side. I didn’t care, as long as I didn’t have to traipse around in the dark at night.
    Now, back to Operation