Page 26 of Beau and the Beast

I do trust Violet, though, he thought, and instantly knew it was true. What was it about the way that she carried herself, the way that she spoke to him that made him feel like he could put his life in her hands?

He dressed in his same clothes from the day before, only changing out his underpants for a pair of the boxer briefs that Song had loaned to him.

Violet had promised him fresh clothes soon that weren't secondhand. And what did that mean? They would be ordering him clothes from a catalog or something? Or would someone from the staff go shopping for him?

Everything would've been easier if they'd simply let him go home and pack a few bags but...

He pushed down his uneasy feelings and left his room, making his way toward the kitchen.

He heard the sound of two men talking and as he rounded the corner, he found Alfie and Geoffrey seated at the broad bar in the kitchen. They fell silent as soon as they caught sight of him. He nodded at them.

"Do you drink coffee?" Geoffrey asked after a moment.

"Of course," Beau said with a smile. He practically lived off the stuff at the newsroom.

"There's a fresh pot behind you," Alfie said, pointing to the counter. "Mugs are in the cupboard right above it."

"Thanks," Beau said, surprised by how helpful they were. He turned to retrieve a mug.

"Do you want one of us to cook you something to eat?" Geoffrey offered.

Beau turned back to them, examining their faces. They weren't smiling—seemed almost wary of him—but they weren't acting unfriendly either.

"I'm good with just the coffee," Beau said truthfully. "Thank you though."

"You can sit down with us if you want," Alfie offered. "It's been a long time since we've gotten to talk to someone new."

Beau nodded, bringing his black coffee over and leaning on the bar.

"I know what you mean," Beau said. "New Whitby is such a huge city—you'd think meeting new people would be easy. But every social group is so insular."

Geoffrey and Alfie exchanged an inscrutable look.

"Right," Geoffrey said after a moment. "It's, uh. Difficult. To meet new people, that is."

Everything felt like it had a subtext—like there was some enormous joke that Beau wasn't allowed in on.

Well. I won't let that bother me, Beau thought. He'd had to push through cliques and prejudices before, but he prided himself on his ability to talk to people, to put them at ease. It's what made him a good reporter, after all.

"I'm meeting your boss today," Beau said, trying to open the door to more conversation. "Anything I should know before I go in?"

They exchanged another look.

"He's uh," Alfie began. "You'll really just need to meet him."

"He's an unusual guy," Geoffrey said.

"Listen, I need to go catch up on reviewing grants," Alfie said, slipping out of his chair. Geoffrey shot him a dirty look, as if he resented being left alone with Beau. "I'll see you both at lunch, I'm sure."

Beau watched him leave, retreating down a hallway. What had happened to the invitation to sit and chat with them?

"Did I say something wrong?" Beau asked.

Geoffrey sighed and sipped his own mug of coffee. "No. You really didn't."

"What's the problem? If I'm supposed to work with your company, you all can't keep holding your cards so close to your chests."

Geoffrey nodded. "I understand. I'm sure it's been a very strange twenty-four hours."

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