Page 31 of Isabelle and the Beast

She smiles softly. “It looks…really good.”

I feel the side of my mouth start to turn up in a smile.No, Adam. Keep it together. You didn’t do this for her.I step over to her chair, pulling it out for her to take a seat.

Slowly, she sits down as I push it in. I take a seat in my place, and the footmen bring our salad dishes.

“Thank you, Graham,” she says, smiling at him.

How did she know it was Graham and not his twin…Greyson? Yes, that’s his name. Greyson.

With just that small remark, I realize how well she’s integrated herself here. She’s not only become part of my daily routine, but she knows the staff by name, even differentiating the twins. And they know her, as well.

Just like my mother. She was so beloved by them all because she took the time to get to know each of them individually and make them part of her family.

Graham smiles at Isabelle and inclines his head.

“Yes, thank you, Graham,” I add.

Graham’s eyebrows rise, and I feel like an idiot. I whip out my napkin and set it on my lap. Back to Isabelle. “So, how are you feeling now?”

Isabelle takes it all in stride. “So much better,” she says. “I started watchingMy Fair Ladyand fell asleep right away. I’ve been napping on and off all day.”

“And your temperature? You’re not too cold?”

She shakes her head. “I’m all better.” She meets my eyes. “Thank you again. I don’t know what would’ve happened if…” She shudders. “I’m so grateful.”

I nod once, uncomfortable with this show of emotion. “Will you be able to sleep tonight, now that you’ve slept all day?”

Why am I so worried about her? If she sleeps or doesn’t sleep, why is this my concern? But I can’t shake the thought of her being awake and miserable in the middle of the night.

“Even if I can’t, I have plenty of movies to keep me occupied.” She glances at the window. “I do wish we could go outside, though. That’s the one other thing I make sure of every day. I take a morning walk and another one in the evening. It supposedly helps with your body clock. So being inside has made me extra stir crazy.”

“Hopefully the storm lets up soon,” I say.

She nods in agreement, and we finish our salads in silence. The footmen exchange our plates, with Isabelle graciously thanking them again, and we start on the main course. I stay silent this time. I made enough of a spectacle thanking Graham for the salad.

“So, the theater is pretty amazing,” she says after a few moments of silence. “Did you spend a lot of time in there?”

I freeze mid-chew. How does she always know the exact questions to make my stomach drop?

She doesn’t notice and keeps talking. “Is that where you got the idea to be an actor? I bet you watched a lot of movies in there with your?—”

“That’s enough,” I say. “We’re not discussing the theater.”

She furrows her brow. “I thought because you showed it to me, I could ask about?—”

“No.” I say it forcefully, setting myfork down on the table with a clang. I stare her down. “You don’t get to know about my personal life or my history. You can enjoy the theater as much as you’d like, but that’s the extent of it.”

She doesn’t back down from my gaze, but meets it with her own intensity. “Fine.”

We stare at each other, an unspoken battle raging between us. Who will look away first? Not me, that’s for sure.

“Mr. Stone?” Lionel asks from the corner.

“Yes?” My eyes flit over to him. Ugh. I lost.

“I thought you’d like to know that the storm has ceased.”

That catches Isabelle’s attention. She stands without hesitation, her chair scraping the wooden floor, and she rushes over to the window. “Finally!” she exclaims, pulling the curtain aside.

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