Page 68 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
"Fantastic." Colum claps his hands. "Because I have a proposal."
I tense. "What kind of proposal?"
"The kind that benefits everyone." He pulls out a folder. Slides it across the desk. "Sparkle Beauty needs accounting support. Gunther needs. Well. A reason to be around more. I'm proposing a professional partnership."
I open the folder. Skim the first page. Pause. "You're offering to cover professional bookkeeping services? For free?"
"Not free. Gunther's doing it. Pro bono. As a. Let's call it a community investment."
Gunther shifts. "Colum?—"
"It's good for everyone," Colum interrupts. "Cecie gets legitimate financial support. You get hands-on time with Orry. I get to feel smug about solving problems."
I look at Gunther. "Did you know about this?"
"No." He looks genuinely surprised. "But. It's not a terrible idea."
"It's manipulative."
"It's efficient," Colum counters. "You two are dancing around each other. This gives you structure. A reason to spend time together that isn't emotionally loaded."
"Everything's emotionally loaded," I mutter.
"True." Colum shrugs. "But at least this way you're getting tax deductions out of it."
Orry babbles. Reaches for the folder. I let him gum the corner.
Gunther watches me. "You don't have to agree. If it feels like. Pressure."
"It does." I look at the folder. At Colum's smug face. At Gunther's hopeful eyes. "But. I also need the help."
"So?"
I sigh. "Fine. Professional partnership. One month trial. If it doesn't work, we stop. No hard feelings."
"Deal." Gunther offers his hand.
I shake it. Formal. Businesslike.
Colum beams. "Excellent. I'll draw up the paperwork. Gunther, you'll start Monday?"
"If Cecie's amenable."
"I'm amenable." I stand. Hoist Orry. "But we're setting ground rules. Office hours only. No personal questions during work time. And if you're late, I'm docking imaginary pay."
"Understood."
"Good." I head for the door. Pause. Look back. "And Gunther?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For this morning."
His smile blooms. Soft. Real. "Anytime."
That night,after Orry's asleep and the shop's locked and I'm alone with chamomile tea and my thoughts, I let myself feel it.
The terror. The hope. The tiny, fragile thing growing that whispersmaybe.
