Аннотация
“You’re stealing that paper, lady! I don’t give a shit if it’s for the Pope! You’re stealing that paper!” The only thing on my mind was getting this paper and a rapidly decreasing mug of coffee from spilling so much of it up to my new boss as fast as my legs would take me. I was not doing very well on my first day. Pulling the door to the office open, wrinkling the paper a little in the process, I abruptly stopped. The light inside the office was so dim that it was hard to see, and I didn’t want to run into anything. I had to stand still as the door closed behind me and wait for my eyes to adjust. “Well?” I jumped at the voice, which came from the direction of the light on the desk, and peered over there. I should’ve been able to see him by now, my eyes having gotten used to the dimness, but I didn’t see anyone. “I have…your, um…” “Speak up!” That sharp command made me want to do the opposite of speaking; it made me want to disappear forever. Then the chair spun around, and I wasn’t quick enough to stifle a gasp. The naked light bulb on the lamp, which had revealed the contents of this office to me, revealed equally the occupant of the room. His face cast in sharp relief, equally in shadow and light, was hideously disfigured by a twisting scar that traveled from his temple, past his cheek, across his mouth — splitting the bottom lip — and on down his chin and neck, vanishing beneath the collar of his shirt. My name is Beauty, and I just met the Beast...
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