Page 35 of Beau and the Beast

Finally, she knew she was going to drive herself crazy if she stayed by the door. She forced herself back down the hallway, out toward the central part of the penthouse.

The four other staff members were gathered there, waiting impatiently on the couch. James and Song stood up as soon as they saw her, and their questions came too fast to be answered.

"Well?"

"What happened?"

"Did he pass out?"

"Is he leaving?"

She put her hands up to stop them, overwhelmed. "Guys—guys! I don't know yet."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Geoffrey demanded. "What did Beau say to you?"

"Nothing," Violet said. "He's still in there with Wolfram."

"No way," Song breathed out in awe. "I can't believe—"

"He definitely passed out," Alfie guessed.

"Maybe,” Violet said, shrugging. "There's no way to know."

"Do you think they could actually be talking to each other?" James asked.

"Stranger things have happened," Violet said—and they all knew it was true.

Just because they had all reacted with terror the first time they saw Wolfram in his current state didn't mean that everyone in the world would. Still, it was hard for her to wrap her head around the idea that a normal person who'd had no preparation to believe in something magical could look at Wolfram with anything but fear or a conviction that their eyes were playing tricks on them.

The staff did their best to occupy themselves all morning, but it was clear that no one was thinking of anything except what might be going on behind the closed door of Wolfram's study.

At half past noon, Alfie pushed back from his laptop in the living room and threw up his hands.

"I can't take this," he said, frustrated. "I'm going in there."

Violet stood to stop him. "Let me," she said. "They both trust me."

Alfie nodded. Everyone turned to watch her walk out of the room.

She had to resist the urge to run on her way back to the study. She knocked on the thick door when she reached it again.

"Come in," Wolfram bellowed.

Violet could barely believe the sight that waited for her on the other side of the door.

Wolfram and Beau were seated on the floor across from each other. There were discarded teacups to their sides and Beau was hunched over, writing in his notebook. He finished what he was doing and turned to look at her.

He was smiling. The reporter was goddamned smiling.

"Yes?" Wolfram asked.

"I thought... you might want to break. For lunch," she said, trying to force the halting words from where they seemed to catch in her throat.

"Are you hungry?" Wolfram asked Beau.

"Sure," Beau said. He moved to get up, pushing off the floor, but Wolfram made no move to follow.

"Are you coming, Mr. Wolfram?"

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