Page 3 of First Comes Orc, Second Comes Baby
Mostly rent.
This was New York.
So eating was optional, though it turned out you couldn’t eat the plaster off the walls. She’d been tempted to try once. Or possibly twice.
Of course, if she hadn't paid the $3000 retainer to join MillionOrc Matchmaking, she could have afforded that model digital notebook. And food.
But whatever, priorities.
“What do you want?” Matchmaker asked in her smooth, lightly accented voice. She peered at Charlotte from behind thin wire framed glasses. “What's your wish list?”
“They have to be emotionally available, and a great sense of humor. Also, and I know you say to be realistic about physical wish list items, so I've decided that realistically, I'd like someone who cares about their health. Health is important to me.”
“Of course. You're a professional ballet dancer. So nutrition, health, and fitness must be a large part of your life.”
“Oh my god, I'm obsessed. But then you have to be. I’ll need someone who can handle that aspect of my life because we can get a bit laser focused.”
“Can you give me an example of a time where someone didn't meet this need?”
“Not a specific time.” That Charlotte cared to recall. She suppressed a grimace, absently stroking Snowkiss’s head. It was unzipped just enough that she could poke her head out—and she did. A grimace wasn't the signal she wanted to send. “But I've had exes who insisted that a cupcake would make everything better, or a few days off in the middle of a demanding season. Or they thought I wasn’t caring for my injuries properly and it meant I was unhealthy.”
“You also have a robust social media following.”
“Yes, and my Orc can’t be a jealous type. It's a part of the job these days. I'm developing my influencer brand and eventually that'll lead to more opportunities. I know some of them were coming from a place of caring when they questioned the amount of time I spend on the apps, but that wasn't what I needed. I get balance in everything but. . .ballet isn't a sport where there's a lot of balance.”
“Understood. Which is why respecting boundaries is important to you.”
Charlotte leaned forward. “Exactly! I don't want them to feel like they can't express their concerns, but I need them to respect my lifestyle as well. I don't want to argue about what I need to do to maintain my career, you know? There are so many other things that we could be arguing about.”
Like food versus the MillionOrc’s membership fees.
“Excellent. You do seem to have put a lot of thought into this. And your emotional wound?”
Charlotte laughed. “Oh my god, this is so romance novel.” She knew, since her twin sister was an indie romance author, and she’d been subjected to enough ranting about plotting versus pantsing that Charlotte was tempted to try her hand at a book. Especially since her twin could, you know, afford both shelter and a full fridge. “The emotional wound.”
She cleared her throat, also aware from therapy that this was a signal of her nervousness. “Well, my parents didn't have the best marriage growing up so I always played the peacemaker. My mother was a real people pleaser too. That was more. . .self-defense.”
Charlotte gave a weak smile. And moved on quicker than a mugger who’d realized his mark was an off-duty officer.
“Anyway, I learned how to take care of everyone else, to meet their needs. I guess before they could lash out at me, you know? So I tend to burn out. I need someone who won't suck the living life out of me.”
“So not another dancer.”
Charlotte laughed. “Oh my god, no! Please not another dancer.”
“You say ‘oh my god’ often. Are you religious?”
“Oh my god, no. It's more like a nervous tick.”
“I see. Let’s move on to logistics.”
Matchmaker pushed aside her tablet as the admin, Frederick, entered with a teapot and clear mugs. The matchmaker poured, handing Charlotte a mug and waited until Frederick left.
“Our Orcs are looking for committed partnerships that lead to marriage, and approximately 40% of the Orcs on our roster are also looking for Humans willing to have a child within the first two years of an established partnership. During your intake, you indicated you were amenable to that timeline.” Matchmaker sipped. “We aren’t a dating service, Charlotte, I want to make that clear. We are a marriage and family service for Orc/Human couples.”
It had been explained to Charlotte that there was a subset of Orcs, both male and female, who were intrigued by and preferred Human partners. There wasn’t any social media infighting between the Orc sexes, so Charlotte was inclined to believe that Orcs specifically seeking out Humans wasn’t necessarily a toxic preference, but just. . . a preference.
Personally, she thought they were being encouraged to mix cross species because of certain property laws that favored Humans, and growing anti-Orc protest over the decades. After all, many believed they weren’t native to Earth. Their upper classes still held matchmaking balls every ten years, and there were rumors that this year the Orc governor’s son would be attending.
