“What did you have for breakfast at MIT, then?” he queried.
“A bagel maybe, if I had time. Definitely no beans, pudding or kidneys.” I gestured toward the full plate.
“When in England, though, or perhaps Bulgaria…” he said casually, and I scowled as I realized I’d been set up.
“Is everything going to be a test today?”
“It wouldn’t be much fun if I told you, now would it?”
“So what will I have for breakfast in Bulgaria?”
“Coffee and cigarettes.” He laughed softly at my immediate shudder. “I’m playing with you. Besides, don’t worry Vivian, you’re not Bulgarian, remember? Russian-American.”
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