Page 8 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

Brovish collected the plates. “Time to clean up the mess, Krem.”

Krem groaned but got up to help.

“If you cook, you don’t need to clean,” Drogar said.

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

Traig picked up his tablet.

I hopped off my chair and landed on solid ground, brushing crumbs off my lap.

Traig came around the table to stand beside me, waiting while I thanked everyone.

“Any time,” Drogar said. The others nodded, smiling.

Traig held the door for me, which shouldn’t have registered as significant but did. I walked through, and he followed, his footsteps heavy and even behind me.

When we reached the reception area, he stopped beside the desk.

“You did well today,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said. “Your sixty-five-page manual helped.”

“Sixty-seven pages now,” he said. “I added an appendix while you were studying the file cabinets.”

My laugh burst out.

He blinked and tilted his head.

That’s when I realized he hadn’t been joking.

“Right,” I said, struggling to sober up. “I’ll…read them as well.”

“Good. I’m going to leave you to continue reviewing the guide, plus study things in the file cabinets.”

“Alright.”

He turned toward the hallway but paused. “Tomorrow we’ll cover intake processing and enclosure protocols.”

“Can’t wait.”

He left without acknowledging the sarcasm, which I was ninety percent sure he’d heard.

I sat down at the desk, opened my bag, and pulled out the small notebook I’d been keeping since Portland. The one where I wrote down good things, back when I’d needed the reminder that nice things existed.

After I’d wasted five years before realizing my ex, Derek, was a jerk.

Busy unpacking, I hadn’t written in it for two weeks.

I clicked the pen, wrote the date, and started a list.

Fred the grumbletoad.

Drogar’s kelthara.

Laina’s laugh.

Brovish saying “welcome” the moment I arrived.