“I’m glad that speaking with Dr. Newhouse helped,” Berkley said to Salt. Because I’m afraid I have some matters of grave importance to discuss with you.”
“Which is what?” Salt frowned at him and I felt my stomach clench with tension. Was Berkley on to us? Had Dr. Newhouse told him she suspected us of being fakes?
“You may not know this, but we monitor each of our guest suites for…er, safety reasons,” Berkley said, leaning across the table and keeping his voice low.
“So you are watching us in the privacy of our rooms?” Salt did a pretty good job of looking outraged. “I cannot believe—”
“Please, Mr. Saltanov, as I said we only watch to ensure the safety of our guests. And the fact that we do so is plainly stated in the contract you signed before we agreed to have you here at the Institute,” Berkley said sternly. “Legally, we are doing nothing wrong.”
Salt sat back and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“I still do not like,” he growled.
“Well, you don’t have to like it but I’m afraid that while we were monitoring you and your little mishka last night, we picked up both a safety violation and a breech of the contract which you signed.”
My heart started beating triple time. Here we go… I was certain that they must have heard Salt and me discussing the case—the cameras must have microphones on them after all. Berkley was about to tell us our cover was blown and our case would be history.
I was so worried and tense that the director’s next words almost failed to register with me.
“Your Babygirl was seen taking a shower by herself,” he said.
“What?” Salt looked at him blankly and I felt my heart rate begin to slow a little.
“I said that mishka was in the bathroom alone in the shower stall,” Berkley repeated.
“I do not see the problem.” Salt shook his head. “Other than the fact that you were looking at my mishka without her clothes which I do not like.” He glared.
“Babygirls cannot be allowed to take baths or showers unattended,” Berkley said sternly, ignoring Salt’s accusation. “It’s dangerous. Our rules expressly state that Babygirls are not to bathe themselves—they must be given a bath by their Daddy each night before bedtime.”
“I…understand.” Salt and I exchanged a quick glance and I felt my cheeks getting hot. Was Berkley saying what I thought he was saying? Was he really demanding that Salt give me a bath every night we were here?
Old pervert probably just wants to watch on the damn monitors, I thought sourly. Probably has a bath fetish or something weird like that.
But then Berkley made it even worse.
“So that was the rule violation. But the contract breech is even more important. It clearly states, in the contract that you signed, that all Babygirls are to be clean shaven…” He cleared his throat. “Down below.”
This time I couldn’t keep quiet.
“Excuse me? Are you telling me I have to shave my…” I cleared my throat. “That I have to shave, Director Berkley?”
He frowned at being spoken to so impertinently by a Little but he did answer me.
“Most certainly not, young lady,” he said sternly. “Everyone knows it isn’t safe for Littles to play with razors. Your Daddy will shave you nice and clean.” He turned to Salt. “I’ll see that you have all the necessary equipment in your suite tonight. Just see that the matter is taken care of without further ado or I’m afraid we cannot continue hosting you here at the Institute.”
“What?” I exploded. “You’re saying that in order to stay here—”
“Enough, mishka!” Salt banged one big fist on the table, making the silverware jump and jangle. “You must learn not to speak so to adults—to Bigs,” he rumbled menacingly.
“But he’s being an asshole!” I pointed a finger at Berkley. “A complete and total asshole! And he probably just wants to watch us and get off while he does.”