Page 2 of Orc Me, Maybe

“Julie.”

I jump. Torack’s voice fills the space like thunder in a teacup.

“Hi. Yes. I was just going over the?—”

He holds up a paper bag. “Lunch.”

“Oh.” I blink. “You… brought me lunch?”

“I brought lunch. There was extra.”

I take the bag like it’s some sacred artifact and peek inside. Sandwich. Apple. Water bottle. Napkin folded into a perfect square. Huh.

“I, uh, really appreciate it.”

He leans against the open door frame. The sunlight casts a gold line down his jaw.

“You’re not what I expected,” he says.

My heart skips. “Is that… a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily.”

There’s a silence that stretches longer than it should. I fidget with the bag, then pull out the sandwich.

“I’m used to people underestimating me,” I say finally. “Or giving me the coffee intern duties and saying it’s ‘great experience.’ I’m not here to fetch lunch or babysit your daughter.”

He crosses his arms, tusks gleaming. “Did I say you were?”

“No,” I admit. “But I’ve interned with enough rich guys to recognize the signs.”

“I’m not like most rich guys,” he says simply.

That’s true. Most rich guys don’t have battle scars on their forearms and speak like they’ve been told too many times to quiet down.

“You know,” I say, “You could’ve held this camp opening in the city. Somewhere safe. Predictable. Air-conditioned.”

“Then it wouldn’t be real,” he says. “Kids don’t change in safe places. They grow when they get scraped knees and see stars.”

My throat tightens. Damn. That’s a better line than I’ve ever written for a pitch deck.

I nod. “Okay. But if a centaur trips on uneven gravel because we skipped accessibility compliance, I’m blaming you.”

He laughs—really laughs. It’s low and rumbles through the room like a warm earthquake.

“I’ll take the hit,” he says.

I open the sandwich, bite into it, and chew slowly.

“So,” I say between bites, “when do the real monsters show up?”

He gives me a sideways look. “You mean the kids, or the investors?”

“Both.”

After lunch, I watch him walk away toward the cabins. Lillian runs to catch up, grabbing his hand without asking. He lets her.

And something in my chest squeezes.

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