“It’s good to see you, sir,” Beeker said unemotionally. “If I might say so, you’re looking well.”
“Beeker, what are you doing here?” Laverna demanded, emerging from the kitchenette.
“Oh, hello, Laverna.” The butler flashed a quick smile. “I was simply-“
“If I might interrupt,” Maxine broke in, her voice dripping with cold sarcasm, “could somebody search this man for weapons, if it’s not too much trouble, and shut that door!”
Her words broke the spell, and the guards galvanized into action. The door to the corridor was quickly closed, and one guard patted the butler down in a careful search while another stood by, weapon at the ready.
“He’s clean,” the searcher said,, but missed the withering glare his victim gave in answer to this report.
“Now then, Mr. Beeker,” Maxine purred, “I believe you were about to explain what you’re doing here.”
“Ah, you must be Mrs. Pruet.” Beeker smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you, it’s a real pleasure to meet you at last. And it’s just ‘Beeker,’ if you please.”
He gave a small half-bow in Max’s direction.
“As to my presence,” he continued, “I should think that would be obvious-to Ms. Laverna, at least. I am Mr. Phule’s butler, ma’am, and my place is with him, regardless of circumstances. Simply put, when you acquired the company of my employer, you acquired us both. While I apologize if this presents an unexpected inconvenience for you, I’m afraid I must insist. It’s a package deal.”
“I … umm … think you’ve gone a little overboard with your conscientiousness, Beek,” Phule said, smiling in spite of his concern. “Your presence really isn’t required-or appropriate. I suggest you leave.”