Page 59 of Beau and the Beast

"I'll keep you company while you finish," Beau said. "The cook isn't supposed to do dishes anyway."

"Oh, isthathow you're justifying it?" Violet teased.

Beau smiled and shrugged and the rest of the staff began to clear the table.

"I'd feel more comfortable finishing in the study," Wolfram said, his voice lower. "It's fine, Beau."

"That's nonsense," Beau shot back. "You can finish at the table with the rest of us. They were all just getting antsy because they ate too fast."

He couldn't tell whether or not Wolfram bought his lame lie, but his golden eyes seemed to thank Beau silently.

They talked softly about nothing, Beau sensing that Wolfram only wanted to eat, to finish, and to retreat to his sanctuary—so Beau found a topic he could expound upon and went into a running monolog about the problems he'd had at his job at The Ledger, the conflict he'd observed between the editorial and advertising departments. All the topic required was a few polite "uh huhs" and "mm hmms" from Wolfram, which the man was happy to provide in between bites.

Then, something remarkable happened. Violet and James returned to the table after they were done cleaning up in the kitchen. James poured out more wine for the four of them seated there and they joined in with the conversation. Neither of them stared at Wolfram as he finished. They simply kept the wine and the conversation flowing.

When Wolfram had eaten everything Beau prepared, Beau moved quickly to pick up his plate and the platter and bring them into the kitchen, not wanting to give him any excuse to get up from the table.

Everyone other than James and Violet had retired to their rooms or elsewhere in the penthouse, but James and Violet looked like they had no plans to leave any time soon.

Beau found a dinner napkin and wet it with warm water before returning to the table. Even with the utensils, some of Wolfram’s meal had ended up dripping and staining the fur at his wrists the same ugly color as the fur around his mouth. Beau could only imagine how much worse it would’ve been if Wolfram had tried to eat with normal utensils or just with his hands.

He came back to the table, took his spot between Wolfram and Violet, and sipped what was left of his glass of wine before passing the damp cloth over to Wolfram. The man gave him a questioning look and Beau pantomimed scrubbing his mouth and dabbing at his own wrists with an invisible cloth.

Wolfram understood, then, looking momentarily dismayed as he saw to the spots where he’d gotten dirty. But Beau kept the conversation going seamlessly and neither James nor Violet stopped to observe him as Wolfram scrubbed at his fur.

* * *

Beau hada knack for anticipating every need, for keeping the conversation flowing and drawing attention away from Wolfram when he didn't want to be gawked at.

He didn't feel ease creeping into his bones until the very end of his foray out into the penthouse, but as he finished his second glass of wine, surrounded by James, Violet, and Beau, Wolfram felt distinctlyhuman.

They could've been any four people around any table in the world, sharing their experiences, their jokes.

Finally, Violet and James began to yawn and Violet suggested that they might retire.

"Do you think you'll be joining us for dinner more now, Wolfram?" James asked.

He actually soundedhopeful.

"I may," Wolfram said. "I can try."

They broke off and Wolfram expected Beau to head back to his side of the wing. Instead, he followed Wolfram toward his study. Wolfram didn't stop to question him. He would be happy to have a moment alone with the man, to thank him.

When Wolfram stepped inside, Beau followed without hesitation.

"Would you like a nightcap, or another cup of tea?" Wolfram offered, watching as Beau settled down onto a cushion at the low center table.

"No," Beau said. "I think I'm good."

Wolfram didn't retrieve anything for himself. He was sated in every way he could think of. He settled onto a pillow on the other side of the table, curling his tail around him and holding it in his lap.

Beau smiled at him pleasantly, seeming satisfied with himself. Wolfram wondered why Beau had followed him, what else he wanted.

"How do you do that?" Wolfram asked, after the silence stretched out for what felt like minutes.

"I've been making dinner since I was old enough to wield a knife to chop," Beau said. "No mystery there."

"That's not what I mean," Wolfram said. "How do you... make me feel like a man?"

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