Page 17 of Beau and the Beast

He watched as she flipped his notebook to a blank page and scribbled something before flipping it closed and sliding it across the broad dining room table to him.

Beau took the notebook and opened it to the page she'd marked.

$50M

"'Fifty M'? As inmillion?"

She nodded.

"You're kidding me."

"Not at all," she said. "Getting this work written and published is of the utmost importance to us—and to our employer."

"But why?"

The woman frowned at that. "We can talk about that after you've accepted the job."

"And if I don't accept?" he asked.

The youngest of the men put his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together.

"We're not a conventional team," the man said, setting his jaw and speaking through almost-clenched teeth. "It would behoove you to take the job. We can't guarantee what your future will be like if you don't."

"Are you threatening me?" Beau asked, trying to muster up more bravery than he actually felt in the moment.

The man shrugged but kept giving him a hard look. "Are you in a position to risk that?" he asked.

Beau really, really wasn't. He knew that.

"How fast do you want it done?" Beau asked. "And do I get to meet your boss before I agree to this, or what?"

"I'm afraid not," the woman said. "Mr. Wolfram is intensely private."

Beau considered that. There was definitely areasonwhy they'd needed to kidnap a writer rather than simply hiring one, and maybe it was because this Wolfram guy was so disagreeable that no writer in his right mind wanted to work for him once they’d met.

But fifty MILLION dollars...It didn't matter how much of an asshole Mr. Wolfram was—that kind of money would set him and Noah up for life. He could talk Noah out of all of the stupid hacking, give him time to go get a real job coding somewhere. Beau could quit his menial writing at The Ledger and actually write the books that he'd spent his entire life dreaming of.

They would even be able to afford more surgery for Noah, the elective things the state had never paid for that could ease his scarring, make it easier for him to walk unassisted.

"What else?" Beau asked. "Because I'm weighing it over and other than the whole getting kind-of-kidnapped thing, this is sounding a little too good to be true."

"You'll need to stay here until the project is finished and the manuscript is in our hands," the woman said. She kept a cool, neutral expression.

"Here? The penthouse?"

She nodded.

"What's the purpose of that?"

"As I said, Mr. Wolfram is very—"

"Private, right, I got it. So private that I'm not allowed to have a life while I'm writing this thing?"

"I'm afraid we can't countenance the risk of you leaking any information until we have the manuscript in hand," she said. "You’ll hand over your phone. We will, of course, provide you with the best accommodations and anything else you need during your stay here—at no charge."

Beau took a deep breath.

"I think I might have that glass of wine and aspirin now."

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