Page 2 of Size Doesn't Matter

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“Well, I must tell you, matching with a specific monster is incredibly difficult. It’s possible, but it may take years.”

“I don’t mind waiting. What I have in mind is worth waiting for.”

I took a deep breath, hoping he didn’t mean what I thought he meant. “Most monsters using this service do not appreciate being fetishized, Mr. Ross. Casual hookups abound, yes, but they are always respectful and understanding. What you’re searching for might be better found on certain dating applications outside of my realm.”

Nico glanced up at me again and smiled. “I know,” he said sheepishly. “But I’ve always wanted to be with an orc. It’s not a fetish thing, I promise. It’s just that I’ve heard they have big…hands…and I’m curious to know what that’s like. And I’ve tried those apps, but I’ve never found an orc on them – not once.”

“Very well. Please understand that your eventual match might not see it the same way, though, and there may well be some tension regarding your desires.”

“Don’t worry, I understand fully. It may not work out, and I’m okay with that. I’m still willing to give it a shot, though. I’ve heard about the work that you do and your success rate is wild. If anyone can help me out, it’s you.”

I scribbled a few notes on the paper before sliding out the big book of matchmaking and thumping it down on the table.

“Very well. I’ve ascertained all the information I need from you, so we’re done here for the time being. I’ll be in touch with you should you receive a match, and until then, I hope you don’t mind exercising a little patience.”

Nico winked again. “I don’t mind at all, and thanks for your help today. I hope I hear from you soon.”

I sighed. Had he listened to a single word I said? If he hadn’t there was nothing I could do now, so I began flipping through a few pages of the book searching for a potential match and pausing only to say goodbye to Nico as he left. When I looked back down, I realized it had been directly in front of me all this time.

“Mr Ross, wait!” I waved him down before he exited the library, pushing a small sheet of paper into his hand. “This is your match.”

His eyes widened. “What? Already?”

“Yes. Trust me, this is the one.”

“And is he…”

“He is. His name is Cyrus P. Cartwright and all the information you need to contact him is written on that slip of paper. Good luck, my friend. You’re going to need it.”

2

CYRUS

“Good morning, Irving,” I called to my coworker as I walked into my office at the university I worked in.

“Morning, Cyrus.” Irving popped out from behind the door of the office opposite mine. “You’re awfully chipper today.”

“Am I?” I grinned. “The truth is, I have a feeling something great is going to happen.”

Irving smiled back. “Maybe so. Sylvan always senses when something is about to happen, and he told me this morning that I should be careful at work today because big changes are afoot.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Usually that means someone brings in doughnuts to share or something equally trivial, but I wouldn’t put it past him to sense changes for you as well.”

“Thank you, I’ll remember that.” I was about to say something else, but Irving had already disappeared into his office again, shutting the frosted glass door behind him.

I quite liked what Sylvan, Irving’s fae fiancé, had done to him. Since they’d gotten engaged, Irving opened up more and seemed to enjoy the smaller things in life, something I appreciated greatly as his coworker. One should never take a single thing for granted, I always said.

My phone buzzed in my trousers pocket and I shut my office door behind me so I could check it. A text from an unfamiliar number popped up, and I was about to delete it before I read it more carefully:

Hi! I’m Nico, your new match from the Monster’s Sanctuary Library matchmaking service. I got your number from the Librarian and I was hoping we could meet soon, maybe even tonight? Text me back what time will work for you and I’ll see you there.

This was the moment I’d been waiting for, and I could hardly believe my eyes. I rubbed them and read the text again, hoping it wasn’t a particularly cruel prank. Each time I read it, though, the more it sank in that I actually had a date – someone who wanted me and only me.

“Quite forward, isn’t he?” I read the text for a third time. “Well, I do like a man who knows what he wants.”

I texted back a suitable time to meet up, hoping I wouldn’t live to regret planning a first date so quickly. I enjoyed getting to know my dates virtually first, so I knew what I was in for when we finally met in person, but the last time I had a date was too long ago for me to remember it clearly, and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

I signed up for the library’s matchmaking service after a long dry spell in my dating life, and I’d now been waiting for a match for over a year, applying at the same time my coworker Irving did after he lost a bet. When Irving got a match after a few short months of waiting, I assumed my turn would be next. So, I waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually, I gave up hope and settled into a life of loneliness, which wasn’t so bad after all – most of the time.

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