“She’s in the basement,” Jonah says, his mouth full of pancake. “And you missed the omelets. That was breakfast. This is brunch!”

“Jonah, swallow and then speak,” I order as I sit down at the table.

He sticks his blueberry-covered tongue out at me.

Mr. Beast laughs.

“What’s she doing in the basement?”

“Organizing the books,” Mr. Beast says. “She’s been at it since six.”

“Is she feeling okay?” I wonder.

“Seems so,” Mr. Beast says.

“Did you guys play trump yet?” I ask.

“No,” Mr. Beast says. “She’s been in the basement all morning.”

I need to get her to come up. Maybe we should skip playing trump and go directly to dancing. Yeah. That’s the most romantic of all the dates. This romance needs a kick in the pants.

I shovel down my pancakes and then go ask Mr. Butler for help setting up.

“Dancing!” he squeals. “Mrs. Butler and I love to dance.”

“Great,” I cheer. “Where should we do it?” I enunciate very clearly so he understands.

“In the Great Hall?”

“Perfect!” I say. “Can you set up the music? I’ll get everyone.”

“Splendid!” he cries.

I run down to the basement to find Beauty. “Beauty! Come upstairs! We’re going to dance!”

“Now?” she asks. “I’m kind of busy!”

She is busy. She’s knee-deep in books. “There are so many fantastic reads here,” she says. “You have no idea. But they’re a mess. I’m organizing them by genre.”

“Cool,” I say. “Are you almost done?”

She laughs. “Are you kidding? It’ll take me a week!”

Hmm. At least she’s not running for the hills. “Do you think you can take a quick break for some dancing?”

“I’m not that coordinated,” she says.

“I’m sure you’re fine,” I say. “Come on up! You can organize more afterward.”

“Well, all right,” she says, dropping a pile of books onto a shelf.

She follows me upstairs. She looks beautiful even though she’s all dusty. She’s wearing a simple blue dress and matching blue heels.

“Come into the Great Hall,” I say.

The Great Hall is a huge room about the size of our house in Smithville. The floor is what I once heard my mom call a harlequin floor — a diamond pattern of white and black.

Mr. Beast, my brother, and Mr. and Mrs. Butler are already waiting for us in the room.

Mr. Beast is grumbling to himself and pretending to stare at the chandelier in the ceiling.

Jonah is playing hopscotch on the tiles.

This is going to work. I know it. Beauty and Mr. Beast will dance, they’ll fall in love, and the story will be saved.

“I brought music,” Mrs. Butler says. “Let me put on the record player!”

“Let me get the lights,” says Mr. Butler.

Mrs. Butler runs off in one direction, Mr. Butler in the other.