Page 13 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

Except…

The school coordinator had specifically mentioned parent communication and community visibility. That wasn’t my strength. I could do it, but it required a kind of warmth that made me feel like I was wearing someone else’s skin.

Willa had answered the phone intake today like she’d been doing it for years.

I could bring her in as support staff for the community-facing elements, though only with minimal involvement. I’d maintain project control, and she could handle the human parts.

That was the perfect solution.

The decision had nothing to do with the fact that I’d now have a reason to meet with her regularly for the next several months.

I picked up the phone again and put it in my pocket. I’d discuss it with Brovish first. Make sure the project was appropriate before involving other staff.

I was not avoiding anything. I was following proper channels.

Another thing I could deal with tomorrow.

My bedtime routine had been regimented from the time I was little, and I followed it as always. Teeth and tusks brushed. Tablet charging. Clothes for tomorrow laid out on the chair. Lights off at the same time every night.

I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, but sleep didn’t come.

This was unusual. Inefficient even. I operated on a schedule, and my body adhered to it at all times.

Except tonight my brain refused to cooperate.

I kept thinking about tomorrow’s orientation session with Willa. I’d cover intake processing first. Then enclosure protocols. Safety procedures. Feeding schedules.

This was the most logical, efficient way to handle the day.

Although, she’d probably enjoy watching the fizzlings more than the intake forms. She’d been drawn to Nix despite the static shock, leaning forward with real interest even after her hair stood on end.

The driftwhisp enclosure would engage her as well. She’d learn better if she was excited.

Creatures first, then. That was the most practical way to handle this.

Fred the grumbletoad might appreciate visiting her at the front desk. They were social creatures. Fred had grumbled louder when she’d interacted with him.

I’d bring Fred to the reception area tomorrow. Let him settle in while I covered intake processing.

Wait.

Why was I planning the orientation schedule around her interests?

That wasn’t efficient. It was unnecessary accommodation.

And I was doing it again. Thinking about her when I didn’t need to. The time outside of work should be mine, not shared with a woman who…

I wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing, but I didn’t like it.

I rolled over and punched my pillow into a shape that made no sense but felt necessary.

Tomorrow I’d be professional. I’d cover everything as originally planned, in the order I’d outlined in the manual. I would not notice how she sat in her chair. I would not watch for her reactions. And I would not think about the way she said my name with a slight upward inflection at the end.

I closed my eyes.

My father’s voice echoed in my mind. Competence is expected, son. Excellence might be noticed.

I was an only orcling, which meant there had been no one else to deflect their attention, no one else to fail in my place. Every achievement had been weighed. Every misstep noted as if they were keeping a log.