Page 2 of Beautiful Beast

The only drawback to my sanctuary is that my private elevator is next to the one for the penthouse below. There’s been the occasional mix-up, but I didn’t mind – much – because Mrs. Alliston is at least 112, never goes anywhere, and rarely has visitors.

She also hand-delivers baked goods at least once a week.

An acceptable trade-off.

“Who wants to know?” I demand.

I still don’t turn around to face the beautiful intruder. The door between us is only open an inch, but we can still hear each other. It’s almost guaranteed that I’m completely shielded from her curious view, but almost isn’t enough.

I know exactly what she looks like, but she still hasn’t seen me.

And she won’t.

“I’m… My name is Belle. And this… this is Buster. I’m so sorry to bother you.” Her voice is shaking, and even though she’s making me feel like a total asshole, I can’t relent.

The sooner she leaves, the better it will be for both of us.

“What do you and Buster need from Mrs. Alliston? She doesn’t want to buy anything either.”

“No, I’d imagine not,” Belle returns. “She’s dead.”

Jesus.

Well, a lot can certainly change in six months.

“I’m a relative,” she continues. “I didn’t… I didn’t even know that she was still alive, or I would have visited. I inherited her apartment, and it came at the perfect time because I just got evicted from mine because the landlord found out about Buster, and… I’m totally babbling. I do that when I’m nervous, and you’re making me nervous. Can you come out from behind the door so we can talk face-to-face?”

“No. So you got evicted for illegally harboring a dog, and now you’re here to claim your dead relative’s apartment?”

“That about sums it up, yeah. I have all the paperwork and–”

“I don’t care what you do or where you live so long as you don’t come back up here,” I interrupt. “You got in the wrong elevator. This one only goes between the lobby and the thirtieth floor. My place is the top five levels and–”

“You have a five-story apartment?” Belle squeaks. “In New York City? Seriously?”

“And Mrs. Alliston lives – well, lived – below me,” I continue as though she didn’t speak. “You need to go back down to the lobby and try again.”

“Wow… Okay. I’m… I’m sorry. Again. I didn’t…” Her voice is full of tears now, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from apologizing. “Thank you for your, uh…help.”

My mother’s voice rings in my head like a bell, and even though it goes against the new persona I’m trying so hard to convey, I can’t help the next words out of my mouth.

“I’m sorry about Annie,” I say gruffly. “She was smart as a whip and a classy lady, and I always enjoyed my conversations with her. I’m sure it’s still a shock to your system whether you were close to her or not.”

“Believe me, I couldn’t be more shocked to be here. And if I was given the chance, I would have–”

“I’m sure,” I interrupt. “Just don’t ‘get lost’ and find yourself on this floor again, and we won’t have any problems.”

It won’t do to have Belle get too comfortable and believe that we’re going to be friends. We’ll be neighbors, nothing more.

And since I don’t plan to leave the penthouse – delivery makes being a recluse very easy in this city – there’s no chance that we’ll accidentally bump into each other.

“Well, great,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “I’m really looking forward to seeing you around.”

“Don’t worry, princess. You won’t see me again.”

“Come on, Buster,” she mutters. “Let’s get out of here.”

I almost forgot about the damn dog. I tear my gaze away from the peephole, and a glance downward reveals his big, block head trying to weasel through the doorway with a series of snorts and snuffs.

---