Well, to be perfectly honest, he might be attractive and amusing, but maybe things should progress to something beyond wars over syrup. There's a method to Belle's madness, here. Or - progress. Progress, madness. Same thing, right?

Belle frowns slightly as she thinks the question over. She doesn't have a planner or anything of the sort with her, just a vague memory of meetings she's supposed to attend, luncheons, just being seen, and -

"I normally don't have much to do on weekends," she says. It's kind of a lie. She's sure there's something. But she'll get out of it. "Which day's best?"