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Her face had turned pink, and her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. I knew what she meant. Abby didn’t want to wish us luck and hope that we won, because that was an absolute fantasy. She probably wanted to say that she hoped we didn’t lose as badly as we had the last few games, but that wouldn’t sound very encouraging either. Hence the vague language.

“I will try my best during the games,” I promised.

She took a few steps back. “I guess that’s the best anyone can do.”

I watched her walk away and turn the corner, then looked down at the pack of Skittles, suddenly not hungry at all.

6

ABBY

Ihadn’t meant to hug Bwat by the vending machine, but he’d looked so crestfallen, like an adorable puppy who had mistaken a pair of shoes for a dog toy. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t known. And he’d been so proud of chewing those shoes up–or in this case dislodging snacks from the vending machine without paying for them. Without thinking I’d wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned my head on the slab of muscle that was his chest.

He was warm. Solid. His breath hitched as I relaxed against him. I didn’t want to let go.

Then he wrapped his arms around me. Encasing me in muscle. I’d never felt so safe. It wasn’t just the physical power of a tall, muscular orc, but the gentleness of his embrace. Stay or go, it was all my choice. Just like everything else I’d learned about Bwat, this hug was him being willing to do it on my terms. Kind. Gentle. The sort of man who was horrified at the thought that his actions, however unwittingly, had denied a human their meager earnings.

My life, my career, was built on capitalism. Positioning companies’ messages to maximize growth and profit. I tried to stay within the lines of what I felt was ethical behavior, but there were times when those lines blurred. Thankfully I hadn’t needed to make a difficult choice between a success that would advance my career and what I felt was morally wrong, but I knew that eventually I might be at that very crossroads. And I wasn’t sure what my decision would be when faced with that choice.

Bwat seemed to be a man who wouldn’t hesitate. And instead of making me feel like I would be judged or considered less-than for my possible moral dilemmas, his steadiness seemed to right my compass.

Alarmed at my thoughts, I had pulled back away from him and blurted out a random excuse for why I needed to leave. Dashing around the corner, I realized that I held not only the Fritos I’d purchased, but the bag of Oreos and the one of Doritos Bwat had given me when I first saw him robbing the vending machine.

Back in the ramshackle open space the owner had given me as an office, I continued to outline my work for the next twenty-four hours:

Establish the team narrative – what are the selling points of an orc team? Power. Humanity/Community Connection. Perseverance in the face of defeat.

Identify standout player personalities, but also establish key attributes of each player on the team – Ozar as the clear leader. Ugwyll as a talented athlete. Eng as the rebel prince/asshole type. Trap and Pfton young adventurous types. Morag as the Casanova-type. Bwat….Bwat as the kind and earnest, encyclopedic nerdy dude.

I’d already audited the scant social media assets and shored them up. I’d identified the social media pillars where I’d focus, and the ones that would be secondary. Now I needed to focus on my content strategy.

Power. That meant videos and pictures of the fights during the game. Pictures of Ugwyll and even Ozar looking like they were ready to rip the boards off the walls. I thought about some of the campaigns I’d seen for wrestlers, and decided I needed to do something similar only less theatrical and a little more dialed-down. Profanity could be allowed. It was a risk, but hockey was rife with f-bombs and chirps about other player’s mothers and opponent’s lack of manhood. It might not be in keeping with the other campaigns of my blue-chip firm, but it was what would work for the team and the fans.

Humanity/Community Connection. Ozar and those pictures of him at the park and of him signing autographs for children who’d looked up at the huge green figure with adoration. I needed that for the rest of the team.

The image of Bwat with the tiny, ugly, fierce dog from the animal control seizure came to mind. His hands were big enough to wrap around the towel-clad dog with room to spare, but they were gentle. And his expression was calm and caring even though the frightened little dog looked ready to sink what few teeth he had left into Bwat’s thumb.

I picked up the phone and called the Baltimore Animal Rescue and Care Shelter, better known as BARCS.

“Hi, I’m Abby Anton with the Baltimore Tusks and I wanted to know how often Bwat volunteers at the shelter.” I felt the hesitation from the woman on the other side. “We have funds for community engagement, and we’d like to direct those toward local non-profits, especially those our team members have a connection with.”

“Bwat is here for a few hours almost every day and is always available to come in when we’re overwhelmed,” the woman said. “He mostly cleans cages, but he’s very good with the animals, especially the dogs. We’ve asked him to be one of the celebrity models in our upcoming fundraiser, Pawject Runway.”

I sucked in a breath. “That’s amazing! Did he agree to model?”

“Yes, he did. Bwat is so kind. He does anything he can to help out, even if it involves the less glamours tasks like bathing flea-invested animals or cleaning messes from the shelter cages.”

“Do you need any others on the hockey team to model?” I was already envisioning how I could add whoever brought the most social media attention to the fundraiser.

“No, we’ve covered all the model spots, but we’d be thrilled if the team was a sponsor and maybe bought a VIP table. The VIP table includes twelve tickets for entry with dinner and a token for a free drink. Sponsorship includes your banner at the venue and a full page ad in our program. We’re also accepting donations for the auction items. Tickets to a game, an after-game meetup with the players, and a couple of jerseys would be a wonderful donation.”

Damn, this woman was good. We should hire her.

I quickly looked at my budget and calculated potential exposure and return-on-investment.

“Count us in for a VIP table,” I told her. “And I’ll put together a basket of merchandise with some tickets and a meet-and-greet for your auction. Do you mind if I send you a bio for Bwat’s mention in your media announcements?”

“That would be perfect. Thank you so much. My name is Bernice Oddfellow. Please feel free to contact me if you need any other information. Should I email the agreement and the information form to the address listed on the team’s website?”