Page 34 of First Comes Orc, Second Comes Baby
“Yeah, Brahnt, even filthy rich people can have budget discussions. Like there's no reason to fling money around because you have it to spend.”
“Why not? It's cooperative economics.”
“Come again?”
“If you're rich, part of your duty to society is to spend your money. Spread it around. I only like to hoard my females.”
“Wow. That is an interesting way of looking at things.” She stuffed everything but the food treats back into the basket. “So, when do I meet your parents? Oh my god, you didn't tell them about me, did you?” She laughed. “They are going to have a fit. The upstart struggling dancer and their shiny darling boy? They’ll demand a paternity test. Or try to pay me off. I honestly can’t wait.”
When he didn't say anything—but Charlotte was learning Brahnt’s silences said a ton—Charlotte shifted to face him.
She took one look at his face and started laughing all over again. “I was messing around, but I'm right, aren't I?”
Brahnt sighed. “There will be questions. And concerns. My mother probably had someone else in mind.”
Charlotte's laughter morphed into howling. “Concerns? God, I love how you talk sometimes. Okay okay, so how do we play this? Do you like your parents?”
“Of course I like my parents.”
“So no trolling. Too bad. That could have kept me busy for awhile.”
“Exactly how would you troll my parents?”
“By being every one of their worst nightmares brought to life.” Charlotte grinned. “But since you like them, I guess I have to be on good behavior. Maybe we should do the smart thing and wait until the paternity test comes back to do the meet and greet.”
“We didn't order a paternity test,” was the testy response. “Nor do I plan on doing so.”
Charlotte smirked. “You never know. I might have had another stud stashed in my closet somewhere. Did you do your due diligence? I mean, did you?”
“Charlotte. You're straying dangerously close to language for which you will be disciplined.”
Charlotte unwrapped another chocolate and popped it in her mouth. Adored how Brahnt talked. When Brahnt wasn’t trying to rearrange her life, Charlotte could listen to him talk for hours. Private school education must be fabulous.
“You know you don't scare me, right?” she said.
“I’ve been on my best behavior.”
“The female’s circle would cut you.”
Silence.
11
Out of sheerperversity and a lifetime of being told if he wanted to be successful don't open his phone in the morning—fine, perhaps not a lifetime, but more years than he cared to count, which really was only the few decades since cell phones had been invented but who was counting. . .wait, no, just since Humans began writing about productivity. . .and usually from peons whose net worth didn’t come close to his own—Brahnt woke, made a mental note that Charlotte was already up since he heard her in conversation with Snowkiss, damn morning people, and reached for his phone.
He sneered at it as he opened the Instagram app and began to mindlessly scroll.
Damned if he let some guru who couldn’t live to be more than a measly century tell him his personal and business success depended on not checking social media for the first twenty minutes of the day. Please. If Humans were so weak minded, which they mostly were—
Brahnt stopped. Stared.
Moved the phone out of his line of vision to look at where his feet even now poked out of the bedding—a peculiar quirk of his, he just didn't like to have his feet covered while he was sleeping—then looked at the square image innocently sitting in his feed.
He wasn't insane.
Those were his feet.
“Charlotte!” he roared. He didn't even have to check the account that had posted the picture.
