Beauty for the Beast Chapter 07

Beauty for the Beast Chapter 07

I rubbed my eyes. Stop it, Elena. Take the money and go.

The days in Silvermont kept passing, and walking away got harder with every one.

–

I’d expected Julian to make my life hell — eighteen rounds of ice water all over again, or buzzing

the call bell at three a.m. for a sandwich.

But he didn’t.

He treated me like part of the furniture. I waited outside conference rooms, carried his briefcase pushed his wheelchair through hotel lobbies.

–

He only spoke when he had to — water, documents, back up. That was it.

–

Vivian called twice a day. Every video call dripped with the same syrupy sweetness — “Julian, darling,” and “When are you coming home?”

One afternoon, I walked into his suite with coffee and caught the tail end of a call.

“That caregiver – Elena — what’s your plan with her, Julian? Vivian’s voice had an edge. “Just give the word, and I’ll handle the problem.”

Julian killed the call the second he saw me.

“Leave it there.” He nodded toward the desk.

I set the cup down and turned to leave.

“Wait.”

I stopped in my tracks.

He studied me, something searching behind those gray eyes. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

I considered the question. “The coffee’s black, no sugar. Should be the right temperature, too.”

He stared at me. Then he laughed – a short, hollow sound that had nothing to do with humor.

“Elena, are you really this oblivious, or are you just playing stupid?”

I didn’t answer.

He looked away. “Get out.”

The door clicked shut behind me. My knees nearly gave out, and I slumped against it.

He wasn’t waiting for a confession. He was waiting for a reason – one that would let him hate me,

or maybe forgive me.

But what was I supposed to say? I left because I was too ugly.

I left because I thought Vivian could give you what I couldn’t. Because I couldn’t stand the thought of you throwing your life away on a woman who was falling apart.

Every reason sounded like an excuse. Every excuse sounded like a lie.

On the fifth day, the sky opened up. We were heading back to the hotel after a meeting when the rain

came down.

It came down in sheets, flooding the pavement in seconds. The car pulled up at the entrance, but the awning was still twenty feet away.

I pulled off my coat and draped it over Julian’s lap.

“Elena…”

“Shut up.” I grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and ran.

Twenty feet should’ve taken ten seconds. But the wheels caught in the slick gravel, the rain was ice-cold, and by the time I shoved us through the lobby doors I was gasping.

I pulled the coat off him. Dry. Not one drop on him.

I was drenched. Water ran from my hair into my eyes, my clothes plastered to my skin, and I couldn’t stop shaking.

Julian looked up at me. His face gave nothing away, but his knuckles were white on the armrests.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was low.

“What?”

“You soaked yourself to the bone just to keep me dry?” The anger in his voice was barely contained. “Why?”

“I’m your assistant.” I blinked at him, confused. “It’s my job.”

He held my gaze for a long moment, jaw tight. Then he looked away. “Go change before you make

yourself sick.”

I pushed him toward the elevator, teeth chattering the whole way,