and grabbed my bags. The director of the orphanage would hear about this. This was no way to treat a woman, especially a woman who came from my background. And, I’d be working for free. Ugh! I placed each bag in the back carefully. They held all my favorite belongings. All my beloved designer clothes, perfume, jewelry, and some money. Money solved most every problem. I’d use it to bribe people to get what I needed. Or wanted. Whatever.
I wondered if all men in Romania were pigs like this man. A handsome, insolent pig, but a pig nonetheless.
I stomped around the back of the truck and opened the passenger door. I was a smart girl, unlike this simpleton. I learned quickly. He wasn’t a gentlemen, and I could’ve stood for hours waiting for him to open the door.
We spent the next three hours in silence driving to the orphanage, my new home.
Home. What a laugh.
I glanced over at the handsome pig and his expression remained the same. His eyes still held derision. Maybe it was because I was out of his league and he couldn’t have me. Or perhaps he was frustrated by his lack of education and didn’t know my language. His irritation showed as white knuckles gripped the steering wheel. He obviously hated me.
Welcome to the club.
Chapter Nine
Tiffany
I GROANED BEFORE my eyes opened. The alarm made the most obnoxious buzzing sound, penetrating the fog of sleep. I wanted the fog back. I needed the fog back. My hand felt like a hundred pounds as I slammed it down on the clock, missing the snooze button.
I’d slept for only two hours, fifteen minutes. Today would not be fun. Coffee, coffee, repeated in my head. I could do this.
It was a bit chilly for the middle of February, the forecast a high of thirty-eight, but it wouldn’t slow the progress for the Habitat Homes project Jain and I were working on. The house, for an ALS patient, was almost complete, a yearlong charitable venture born from love.
Love . Oh my goodness, Jain’s baby! I sat up straight and rubbed my eyes.
I’d almost forgotten about her with the annoying alarm still ringing in my head. A beautiful girl, six pounds, ten ounces. Colin and I waited through the night to make sure mother and child were doing okay. When we entered her hospital room, Colin teared up—which set off Jain, which in turn started my waterworks. We were hugging and crying when Braydon came in with one of the nurses. He smiled and shook his head. We were a trio, the three of us. We may not have the same blood running through our veins, but we were still family . A close one.
Knowing mother and child were safely taken care of, my other job needed my attention. While Jain recovered in the hospital, I needed to pick up the slack and make sure everyone stayed on task. The cute little home in the Rainier District would stay on schedule. I’d make sure of it.
Jain usually took care of the administrative role, and I was in charge of the fun stuff—like painting and landscaping.
I threw on some clothes, left my warm and cozy cottage, and dragged myself to the kitchen in the main house. Dad sat on his usual stool at the end of the long center island, reading his newspaper. Lucky for me, he’d already made coffee.
“Can you pass me the coffee, Dad?” Thankful to be upright, I grabbed my favorite mug from the cupboard. I wouldn’t last long without my fix. I did not do well with sleep deprivation.
“You look …”
“Awful? Horrible?” I thought I’d help him along a little. I poured the coffee in my mug.
“No! You always look lovely. You just look a little tired. Are you okay? You feeling all right?”
My dad acted like a mother hen at times. He always checked to make sure I ate right and took care of myself. Both my parents were the picture of health. Dad, with his salt and pepper hair and fit body, was still handsome by anyone’s standards. Mom was as beautiful as ever. They were both in their fifties, but looked thirty-five. I hoped I’d inherited their good
I wondered if all men in Romania were pigs like this man. A handsome, insolent pig, but a pig nonetheless.
I stomped around the back of the truck and opened the passenger door. I was a smart girl, unlike this simpleton. I learned quickly. He wasn’t a gentlemen, and I could’ve stood for hours waiting for him to open the door.
We spent the next three hours in silence driving to the orphanage, my new home.
Home. What a laugh.
I glanced over at the handsome pig and his expression remained the same. His eyes still held derision. Maybe it was because I was out of his league and he couldn’t have me. Or perhaps he was frustrated by his lack of education and didn’t know my language. His irritation showed as white knuckles gripped the steering wheel. He obviously hated me.
Welcome to the club.
Chapter Nine
Tiffany
I GROANED BEFORE my eyes opened. The alarm made the most obnoxious buzzing sound, penetrating the fog of sleep. I wanted the fog back. I needed the fog back. My hand felt like a hundred pounds as I slammed it down on the clock, missing the snooze button.
I’d slept for only two hours, fifteen minutes. Today would not be fun. Coffee, coffee, repeated in my head. I could do this.
It was a bit chilly for the middle of February, the forecast a high of thirty-eight, but it wouldn’t slow the progress for the Habitat Homes project Jain and I were working on. The house, for an ALS patient, was almost complete, a yearlong charitable venture born from love.
Love . Oh my goodness, Jain’s baby! I sat up straight and rubbed my eyes.
I’d almost forgotten about her with the annoying alarm still ringing in my head. A beautiful girl, six pounds, ten ounces. Colin and I waited through the night to make sure mother and child were doing okay. When we entered her hospital room, Colin teared up—which set off Jain, which in turn started my waterworks. We were hugging and crying when Braydon came in with one of the nurses. He smiled and shook his head. We were a trio, the three of us. We may not have the same blood running through our veins, but we were still family . A close one.
Knowing mother and child were safely taken care of, my other job needed my attention. While Jain recovered in the hospital, I needed to pick up the slack and make sure everyone stayed on task. The cute little home in the Rainier District would stay on schedule. I’d make sure of it.
Jain usually took care of the administrative role, and I was in charge of the fun stuff—like painting and landscaping.
I threw on some clothes, left my warm and cozy cottage, and dragged myself to the kitchen in the main house. Dad sat on his usual stool at the end of the long center island, reading his newspaper. Lucky for me, he’d already made coffee.
“Can you pass me the coffee, Dad?” Thankful to be upright, I grabbed my favorite mug from the cupboard. I wouldn’t last long without my fix. I did not do well with sleep deprivation.
“You look …”
“Awful? Horrible?” I thought I’d help him along a little. I poured the coffee in my mug.
“No! You always look lovely. You just look a little tired. Are you okay? You feeling all right?”
My dad acted like a mother hen at times. He always checked to make sure I ate right and took care of myself. Both my parents were the picture of health. Dad, with his salt and pepper hair and fit body, was still handsome by anyone’s standards. Mom was as beautiful as ever. They were both in their fifties, but looked thirty-five. I hoped I’d inherited their good
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