Page 30 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

“She tucks her hair behind her left ear when she’s concentrating.”

My voice sounded too loud. I kept going anyway.

“Two cups of coffee. Both with cream. No sweet dust.” I strode to the kitchen counter, bracing my hands against it. “She laughs before she’s decided it’s appropriate. Then looks embarrassed about showing she feels joy.”

The words kept coming, spilling out like I’d been holding them behind a wall.

“She writes in her notebook the way I use my tablet. Fred grumbles louder when she touches him.” I turned back toward the empty chair. “She moved the message pad. I moved it back. She didn’t argue. She smiled.”

The silence in my cottage pressed against my ears.

It wasn’t normal to speak aloud to furniture about a woman I’d known for only a few days.

But the empty chair was still there, and I was still standing in front of it, and I heard myself say the thing I’d been avoiding since the moment she’d walked through the front door.

“I want someone to sit there.”

The admission hung in the air.

“I want it to be her.”

I sat at my table with the tablet open to tomorrow’s meeting schedule, the cursor blinking at the end of the notes section.

Thursday Meeting

Initial Framework Discussion

Topics: Creature selection, safety protocols, lesson structure

Duration: 90 minutes

Location: Conference room

My finger hovered over the screen.

I added one more line.

Bring coffee. Two creams. No sweet dust.

This was inappropriate. I was her colleague, not her…whatever type of person who brought people coffee without being asked.

I closed the tablet, leaving the note there.

For the meeting, I’d bring her coffee and set it down in front of her without comment, as if I always brought coffee to meetings, as if this was normal behavior and not anything else.

She’d probably smile.

I’d do my best not to melt into a puddle on the floor when she did it.

CHAPTER SIX

WILLA

By three o’clock the next afternoon, I’d fielded sixteen phone calls, processed three adoption inquiries, and discovered that our supply ordering system involved a physical ledger, a digital spreadsheet, and what appeared to be a third tracking method that existed only in Traig’s mind. Or Krem’s. I hadn’t figured that part out yet.

I was trying to reconcile all three when Fred floated down from the ceiling and landed on the ledger with a thump, his tiny wings folding against his sides.

“Tired buddy?” I said. “I get it. Our jobs are tough. Bopping into walls and the ceiling is a lot. This is a lot.”