"Because it's called ‘human resources’ in human-majority companies. It’s important to keep the acronym, so when you’re doing business with a human company they know what’s going on. You can’t imagine how much time is wasted on inter-office red tape because the all-human firms pretend they don’t understand what an office pupation suite is or why we work from home on the full moon. And I wasn’tsupposedto be alone, but my friend blew me off at the last minute and it was too late to cancel. But I guess if she hadn’t I wouldn’t have been almost killed in a bar fight, right?"
"Always look on the bright side," he agreed cheerfully, leaning forward on his elbows. Unlike her most recent date with the elf, Ris found herself leaning in, rather than away from this charismatic orc, so unlike any other she’d met at this resort. "And how serendipitous, for I too was blown off this weekend. Here’s to friends breaking plans." He raised his glass to hers with the same guileless cheer, giving her no choice but to clink her flute to his, chuckling as she shook her head.
"I don’t know if that’s something I want to toast!" she laughed protestingly. "This isn’t the first time she’s done it, and it probably won’t be the last. Did your friend cost you money on a hotel room?"
"He did not," he conceded, raising his hand in defeat, "and I guess we didn’ttechnicallyhave plans, but in my defense, he’s not someone you can make plans with, because he’ll always say no. He used to be a lot of fun, but I’ve come to realize in the past few years that he was fun out of necessity. Now he’s only interested in pursuing his life goal of being a hunched old cat lady who never leaves his apartment. But it’s his first weekend off in months, and I hadthoughthe might be willing to come hang out with his very charming friend, which was clearly a delusion."
"What happened? I can’t believe your charm failed you."
He huffed in mock offense, smoothing the studded lapels of his leather jacket in a preening fashion, making her laugh again.
"Ah well, I forgot about the new girlfriend, gorgeous little thing. She rates much higher than me, I didn’t even get a text back."
"Oh, inthatcase," she raised her glass again, clinking to the side of his, "we’re birds of a feather. That’s Dynah all day long. It doesn’t matter what sort of plans she’s made with any of us or how long they’ve been made. If a guy blinks at her from across the street, she’ll leave the rest of us standing there on the corner without a moment of hesitation. This is the second time she’s bailed on this trip! She’d miss her own funeral if the grave digger expressed any interest. And all the guys are terrible! That’s the only thing any of them have in common, and that makes itso much harderto not be mad about it. Do you at least like your friend’s girlfriend?"
"Oof. Yeah, that’s rough. Shame on you, Dynah." His eyes dropped to the diminishing contents of his glass, as though the champagne bubbles held the answer to some secret, hesitating a long moment before answering. "Do I like the girlfriend . . . jury’s still out, to be honest. She’s an elf, like you," his eyes raised, flashing her that bright smile once more. "She seems lovely, but she’s got ‘heartbreaker’ written all over her. She’s not what I would deem terrible though, so you win this round, Nanaya."
"That’s an awful trophy," she laughingly protested. "And the worst part is I’m not really surprised it happened, so I’m not mad about it. Ishouldbe, but it’s not worth the energy to be mad. It’s just how she is, you have to know that going in. Peak Dynah."
"Same, I’m not mad." His sharp jaw cut a stunning profile in the warm golden glow of the twinkle lights, the silver gleam of the cuff around his tusk sparkling. "This isn’t how he is, not normally, but he seems happy-ish, so I can’t be mad. Tate doesn’t reallydohappy, he . . . endures. So, if he’s happy and I’m his friend, I guess I should be happy that he’s happy."
"Tate? With the teeth?That’syour friend?"
He grimaced, rubbing his neck with an uncomfortable chuckle. "Things we accept as the cost of entry, right?AllegedlyI talk a lot, that’s my cost of entry, I guess. Dynah’s cost of entry is she’s going to leave you high and dry for a date. His cost of entry is . . . you don’t ask questions you don’t actually want to hear the answer to. If the question is how far can you fuck around, the finding out is not worth the fuckery that precedes it, and the boys at the bar learned that tonight. But he’s a good friend. His bark is sharp, but he bends over backwards for his people, and I consider myself one of the lucky few who get to claim membership to that club. Bailed me out of jail once, used to be a lot of fun. So . . . it’s fine, I’ll live, and so will all the troublemakers in the Pixie tonight.Andthey’ve learned the answer to just how far they can fuck around. I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to play the gallant and rescue a distressingly lovely damsel if I’d been across town, so it’s more than fine. Like I said, serendipitous. What’s your cost of entry, I wonder, Nanaya?"
There was something about the name he called her, something foreign and sultry-sounding that made her stomach flip and her neck heat. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but she intended on finding out before the night was done.
"Wait, wait. Rewind. You were injail?!"
He laughed sheepishly, dropping his head back. "It wasn’t for anything bad, honest."
"What?!"
He explained that he’d been arrested with other labor protestors at a Starling Heights industrial factory, after the workers had been locked out of the factory floor. "They said we were on private property, but that was just something to say to shut things down before the local news stations arrived. You can blame my mother for that," he laughed. "‘Fuck the man’ is Shu’la’s motto."
The warmth she felt in her chest definitely had nothing to do with the champagne, she decided as she giggled. He had lovely, high cheekbones and a long jaw, a straight nose and sharply pointed ears. His endless legs were stretched to the side of the table, and she could easily imagine her own, long and plum-colored, entwined with his green ones. Ris shook her head, chasing away the champagne bubbles and chastised herself, feeling her ears heat. The image in her head was far more intimate than any encounter she’d experienced with the orcs here, after all.Everyone here is easy meat, and they’re all the same. It was unwise to hope for some storybook relationship like Lurielle’s, and she didn’t really want that, in any case.Ainsley.
"You don’t have a very Orcish name," she blurted, letting her internal thoughts bubble to the surface with a blush.Ainsley. Every orc she’d ever known had rough, guttural-sounding names, like Gruvush and Viggu, the two orcs in her office. By contrast, Ainsley was delicate, almost poetic sounding, matching his unconventional appearance.
"That’s also my mom’s fault," he laughed. "She’d already picked the name out, thought she was having a girl . . . then I showed up and she decided it was too late. She’d been calling me Ainsley for months, figured I’d already be answering to it."
She smiled at the thought of his mother being shocked when she gave birth to a strapping son, and not the little girl she’d been expecting. "Every orc I know at home is either named for their grandfather or for some mountain god. How did she not get bullied by your grandparents?"
"None around to do so, otherwise you’re right, I’d probably be named Yarg. My dad died when I was a baby and they had already moved pretty far away from the clan before I was born. It was just the two of us, and no one tells Shu’la what to do. I suppose she couldn’t give up the freedom at that point."
He smiled widely at the grin she gave him, her cheeks heating again. It was more than she’d learned about any of her recent dates, she realized wryly, eyeing the chipped black nail polish on his pinky nail.You can actually tell Lurielle you met an orc at the resort and found out his name.
"Are you still close to your mom?"
"Oh, I’m what is scientifically known as a mama’s boy," he chuckled, and she was unable to hold in her own laughter once again. "I go home to visit at least once a month." His eyes sparkled, and Ris felt her own mouth stretching to match his bright smile. "She’s the coolest mom I know, and we have a lot of fun together. She raised me on her own, no clan support or anything like that, but she’s happy I’m still just an afternoon’s drive away, and I’m happy to be near enough if there’s an emergency. And you never really grow out of needing your mother, right? I haven’t at least."
"I’m close to my parents too," she quickly agreed. Her relationship with her family was something she rarely discussed, even with her friends. Too many years of pretending, of molding herself into the sort of elf that fit in seamlessly with her better-heeled peers, of blurring the edges of who she was and who they thought she was, and even though she no longer felt the need to be anyone other than herself, letting others peek behind the curtain of her confident facade was not a skill she possessed in any quantity. There was something about his easy smile, though; his sparkling eyes and self-effacing laughter that set her at ease. "I still go on vacation with them every year. My mom and I go thrifting and we eat completely unfancy beach food, and it’s my favorite week of the year; has been since I was little. And," she added with a wry smile, "it’s a relief getting away from the herd."
"Herd Resources! It’s such a terrible name! You can’t make me believe they couldn’t come up with something better thanherd resources, it’s like they weren’t even trying. Who does that even apply to?!"
"Minotaurs, cervitaurs, centaurs," she ticked off on her fingers. "All the ‘taurs,’ I guess? Don’t ask me, HR Generalist isn’t my dream job, but it pays the bills."
He leaned forward in his seat, smile stretching. "And what did Ris want to be when she was just a little elf?"
