Page 3 of Marrying My Orc Boss

Once parked, I hurry into the hospital.

“Mr. Harte. Which floor, please?” I ask the receptionist, a stern-looking orc whose eyes reveal he gave up a long time ago.

“Let me check, ma’am,” he says as he starts to type.

“He was brought in today,” I tell him, frustrated by his slowness.

“I said, let me check, ma’am.” He looks up at me. “Can you let me do that?”

I want to punch him, but I smile instead. “Of course.”

He goes back to typing and stops. “Ohh,” he says.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“‘Fraid I can’t tell you that, but he’s on Floor 2, Section B, Subsection 6,” he says.

“Okay, thank you,” I reply.

“Wait!” he roars. “Bed 9.”

I make my way through to the elevator and rush down the sterile corridors until I find Mom standing, staring through a room window.

When I reach her, I look through the window to see Dad lying on the bed.

“What’s going on?” I ask, turning to search her face.

Still gazing through the window, she sighs, then turns to me with tears in her eyes. “He needs a new kidney, hon.”

And it hits me because I know what that means. Right now, I should be thinking about my dad, getting better, getting fixed. But instead, I’m thinking about how we’re possibly going to pay for that.

CHAPTER 2

Drakar

I’m happily practicing my golf swing in my office when I hear the commotion coming from the floor outside. I peer out the window of my office door to be greeted by the sight of people rushing back and forth in what I can only describe as panic.

Oh, no, this doesn’t look good.

My intercom starts to buzz, and I rush over and answer.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“I think you better turn on the news, Mr. Tvojan. The board members are gathering,” my secretary, Janice, tells me.

My stomach drops as I reach for the remote and switch on the TV to see flashing ambulances and police. I look at the headline running across the bottom of the screen.

Breaking News: Chaotic Scenes at Tasting Event as Potato Chip Turns Tasters Green.

I watch in horror as they escort very shocked-looking green people into ambulances.

I turn up the volume as the news anchor begins to speak.

“Okay, let’s go live to the GMAX center and our reporter, Ben. Hi, Ben. Nice shirt, by the way,” the news anchor says.

“Thanks, Jeff, my wife hates it.” As he speaks, Ben glances down at his shirt.

“Well, you tell her from me, that’s a damn fine shirt,” Jeff says.

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