Read Online Taking Tiffany by MK Harkins - Free Book Online Page A

made the same mistake and slipped in one of the full paint trays, landing next to her with a thud, spilling more on my way down. We were both covered.
    “Are you hurt?” I asked, looking up and down, praying she wasn’t.
    She flopped on her back and stared up at the ceiling. “No. I’m not hurt. Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at soccer practice? Why did you come?” Her expression seemed more confused than angry. “I thought I was a…”, she air quoted, “…mistake”.
    I moved closer. “I ditched practice. I want to help.” Then I added, “Nothing about you is a mistake.”
    I gently tried to remove some of the green paint I’d splattered across her face and mouth. But I only made it worse by smearing it. My finger slid over the silky substance that coated her lips. Her breath hitched, and I felt it to my core.
    “Here, that’s not working.” I leaned down and let my tongue skate across her lips and into her mouth. Kissing her overtook all my senses, so much so, I didn’t even taste the paint. 
    She groaned in frustration, grabbed my shirt with both hands and pulled me to her. Ah, that was more like it. Our lips met in a frenzy of green paint and panting breaths.
    A voice boomed across the empty room. “What the hell is going on here?”
    Tiffany stopped stone-cold beside me. She whispered into my lips, “Oops. I guess you get to meet my dad.”
    Hell no . I worried Gerald Thompson would hate me because of my meager upbringing and tainted history, but he didn’t even need that excuse now. I was on the floor in the middle of a worksite, passionately and irresponsibly kissing his daughter. With green paint…everywhere.
    I got up and turned to face the firing squad.

Chapter Eleven
    Angela
     
    Six Months Earlier
     
    AFTER THREE HOURS of silence, we finally arrived. Dear God . No. Was this a joke?
    There was no preparing for this…dump.  My parents warned me that I’d be living with the basics only. I thought, instead of a five-star hotel, I’d be faced with a Best Western-type living place, but this was a dilapidated hovel.
      Right smack dab in the center of a fenced off area sat the sorriest building ever built.  A huge structure, stretching about twenty feet high, and looked to be around six thousand square feet. At some point, maybe fifty years ago, someone painted the exterior a purplish-brown color. Now, the paint was peeling and was mostly gone. Only a few high windows were visible from where I stood. It was ugly and depressing.
    Surrounding the main building were a dozen or so huts placed haphazardly inside a fenced off area. I wasn’t even sure they would be considered huts because they didn’t look like they’d stand up to any type of wind. Never mind wind – a small cough would probably topple them.
    I recalled my nanny reading the Three Little Pigs story, and I giggled.
    He-with-no-name turned his stupidly handsome face toward me and glared. If looks could kill, I was sure I’d be dead and gone. Maybe, if I kept laughing, he could make it happen. Death. Anything would be better than the hell my parents sent me to.
    I always thought my parents were uninterested in me. Typically, they ignored me until I made a fuss. When I got loud enough, they’d throw money at me until I quieted down. We had a non-verbal agreement. I stayed out of their way as long as I got what I wanted.
    That all changed once I ‘humiliated the family’.  Now I knew they weren’t uninterested; they hated me. Pure and simple. They put me in a place which was not only worse than jail, it was worse than any existence I could imagine.
    Now I hated them right back. They were the biggest phonies in the world. I embarrassed them, so now I had to stay in this hell until society forgot me. It’s only a year, sweetie . Sweetie? Really? They hadn’t used that word since I was six.
    I made a vow to get back at them.  I’d get away from here and disappear. I’d have the last laugh.
    Mr. Sullen Man