Beauty Vs. The Beast. M.J. Rodgers
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He just stood there watching her with those glinting eyes.
Kay looked away and tried to collect her jumbled thoughts. Damn, what had they been discussing? She had to think. Ingle was making the case go to trial. She had to have everything ready by Monday. The press. The psychologists. Lee. Yes, that was it. Lee.
She looked back at the man waiting on the stair above her and schooled her voice into its most professional aplomb.
“You’re being deliberately evasive about Lee. Why?”
He leaned his elbow against the stairwell banister and smiled down at her, displaying all the relaxed composure she was currently missing within herself.
“You’re right, Kay. Possibly, I should have told you this sooner, but I’d hoped for the suit to be dismissed this morning and, in that event, I believed telling you wouldn’t be necessary.”
As always, Kay did her best not to succumb to the infectiousness of his smile and to concentrate instead on the import of his words.
“What have you kept from me?”
“Lee Nye is a bit...unusual.”
“Unusual? How do you mean, unusual?”
“I don’t want to prejudice your thinking. I’d rather you met him and made up your own mind.”
Kay turned to descend the final few stairs. A bit... unusual. She didn’t like the sound of it. She didn’t like the sound of it at all.
* * *
THE ATTIC BEGAN to lighten a bit. Lee Nye, the little boy who had been sleeping for such a long time, opened his eyes and realized that something was nudging him awake. He didn’t quite know what it was, but the gentle mental poke was unmistakable. He yawned and stretched and got out of his nice warm bed to pad over to the narrow attic window. He perched his chin on the sill to see what was going on.
The objects were even clearer than last time. The colors even more vibrant. He’d never felt so...close to the world below before.
When he’d first looked out his attic window, it had been so fuzzy. The objects and people moved as though they were simply dark shadows against a gray sheet. But not today. Today things were so clear, so real.
He stepped back from the window. Sometimes, the realness disturbed him. He wasn’t certain he wanted to look.
He remembered a long time ago he had looked out his attic window and a little boy with a sad face had looked up at him as though he were asking him to come out to play. He didn’t think anyone down there could see him until that little boy had looked directly up at him.
That, too, had been too real.
He hadn’t gone down to play, of course. He didn’t know the little boy. And why would he have wanted to leave his attic, anyway?
He moved toward the window again, pressed his nose against the pane. Once again, the world below flashed clear and close.
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