Page 12 of Isabelle and the Beast

Brigette’s eyes widen. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean it that way! Well, you still shouldn’t go in the office. But he would never do anything to harm you. That I can promise.”

“What’s in the office?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Brigette keeps up her work, but I don’t miss her hard swallow.

Well, now I’m paranoid. I don’t ask any more questions, though, because Brigette is visibly flustered. She’s been so kind to me, and I don’t want to make her more upset than she already is. My stomach, though, has other ideas. It growls louder than the helicopter propellers in Adam’s latest movie.

“Oh, dear. Are you hungry?” Brigette asks.

Yes, I’m starving, but I couldn’t stomach another minute of sitting at the table with your boss.“No, no, I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” She spins in a slow circle, triple checking that everything in the room is in order, then gives me a quick nod. “Come with me to the kitchen. We’ll find you something to eat. And I can introduce you to the rest of the staff.”

“Are you sure?” My stomach grumbles again, even louder this time.

Brigette smirks. “Positive. Come now, let’s go.” She steps into the hallway, and I follow her. “I can show you around the castle as well.”

“I guess that’s a good idea.” Why not take advantage of the opportunity to explore this place? But fear pops in my mind. “Will Adam mind?”

“Hmm?” She turns to face me. “No, he should be in his office by now. He tends to spend his evenings in his quarters, whichare on the other side of this upper level, so we won’t have to worry about running into him.”

With that weight off my shoulders, my stomach gives a grumble of approval. I follow Brigette through the maze of corridors, all dimly lit by candles. These are all bedrooms, but I could easily get lost in this place.

She points out Adam’s quarters. “This is Mr. Stone’s office, and next door is his bedroom. Everything here in the castle is available to you, just not Mr. Stone’s quarters.”

The little shiver of nerves reappears. Didn’t Lionel say there was someone named Theodore here? Who is that, a dead body in the office? At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised by anything.

“Why do I need to stay out?” I make my tone light, hoping she won’t see through me to my racing heart. “Is he hiding a…body in there?”

“Abody? No, no, of course not.”

I want to be relieved, but her quick response still hasn’t convinced me.

I need to get out of here ASAP.

I follow her down the stairs and she points out the different rooms as we pass them—the music room, the great hall, and the library. “And here’s the kitchen!” she says brightly, pushing a swinging door open. The kitchen feels homey; the cabinets are all dark wood and the countertops are beautiful granite, gray mixed with shades of tan and brown. We’re met with cheerful voices from a small group crowded around a long wooden table, talking, laughing, and relaxing after the day.

But as we enter the kitchen, I see the moment one of the young women about my age spots me. She elbows the girl next to her, and quickly the voices drop to whispers.

“This is Ms. Lovett,” Brigette announces to the group.

“It’s just Isabelle,” I say, giving a small wave.

“I brought her here to get something to eat,” Brigette explains.

There’s a scuffle as the workers start getting out of their chairs and head to the kitchen. A man with a mustache smooths out his white chef’s coat, and the two men who served dinner, the ones who look nearly identical, stand and straighten their lapels.

“No, please,” I say quickly. “I just need a little snack. Maybe some cereal?”

The girls around my age, one redhead and one blonde, glance at each other with their eyebrows raised.

“Just cereal? Are you sure?” Brigette asks me.

“Yes, that would be great. It’s my favorite snack at home. I used to stay up late watching Seinfeld with my dad and eating bowls of cereal.”

Brigette smiles softly and leads me over to a pantry. She opens the door, and I’m met with a floor-to-ceiling stash of every cereal you can imagine. Cap’n Crunch, Lucky Charms, Trix (which, I can confirm, is NOT just for kids), Cheerios, and some healthy organic ones, too.

“Whoa,” I breathe. “This place is like a grocery store.” I turn to Brigette. “Do you have every kind of ice cream, too?”

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