Monica's smile is starting to look strained. "Yes. Brains. Obviously. That's... that's what neurosurgeons do."
"Correct."
"And you met at a...?"
"Gym," Colletta blurts. "We met at a gym. I was using the equipment wrong and he corrected my form."
"How romantic," Monica says faintly.
"Very," I agree.
"And you're... engaged?"
"He claimed me," Colletta says, and I can hear hysteria in her voice. "Six months ago. Very traditional. Very... Orc."
Monica's smile is definitely frozen now.
Behind her, a tall human male approaches. Well-groomed. Expensive suit. Soft hands. Non-threat.
"Babe?" he says. "Is everything—" He sees me. Stops walking. "Oh."
"Dennis!" Monica's voice is too bright. "This is Lettie's fiancé! The neurosurgeon!"
"The...?" Dennis extends a hand. I shake it. He winces. "Wow. Strong grip."
"I do manual labor," I say.
"I thought you were a neurosurgeon?"
"In my spare time."
Colletta is actively dying beside me. I can feel it.
"Well," Dennis says, recovering his smile. "It's great to meet you, man. Lettie's told us so much about you."
"She has spoken of me?"
"Oh yeah. Tons."
I look at Colletta. She is staring at the ground like she wants it to swallow her whole.
"What has she said," I ask.
"Just... you know. That you're brilliant. Dedicated. Very... intense."
"This is accurate."
"Great. That's... great." Dennis looks at Monica. Monica looks at Dennis. They seem to be having a silent conversation that I cannot interpret.
Then Monica's smile sharpens. "Well, we should let you two get settled! The rehearsal dinner starts at six, but feel free to explore the grounds! There's a wine tasting in the main building, or you can walk the vineyards, or?—"
"We will conduct reconnaissance," I say.
"I'm sorry?"
"Of the venue. To ensure optimal safety during tomorrow's ceremony."
"Safety?"
