Page 1 of My Fated Orc Hero

CHAPTER 1

The local animal shelter is my sanctuary, a place where failed dates and work stress melt away. I'm coaxing a skittish tabby from its carrier when Darla, my fellow volunteer and resident animal rights warrior, sidles up next to me.

"So," she begins, a mischievous glint in her eye, "how was Mr. Perfect from Tinder?"

I groan. "Not nearly as perfect as his profile would make you believe. Let's just say his love for his ant farm surpassed his interest in me. Or in asking me a single question all night. On the bright side I can tell you all about ant farms now. What do you want to know?"

Darla chuckles, shaking her head. "Oh, Zoe. At least these little ones appreciate you." She gestures to the cats around us. "How's the museum gig going?"

"It's..." I pause, searching for the right words. "My new boss is...challenging. But the opportunity to work with my Great Aunt Charlotte's collection is amazing."

As I check my phone, reality crashes back.

Glancing at my watch, I yelp. "Crap! I'm late for the special Saturday meeting at work! Myrealwork!"

I grab my things, and my fresh coffee, I do my best to semi-sprint to my beat-up Corolla. Somehow, I manage to keep all the precious liquid in the cup. But as I peel out of the parking lot, my initial care seems to have all been for nothing. In my haste, I turn too hard and half of it ends up on my blouse.

"Perfect," I mutter, eyeing the growing stain. "Just in time for my presentation."

And as Inavigate the short trek to Winthrop House, as the estate is called, I have plenty of time to think about the upcoming staff meeting where I'll finally get to pitch my ideas regarding Great Aunt Charlotte's mansion and its eclectic collection of artifacts.

My idea will be the perfect way to both honor her legacy and passion for adventure and cryptozoology while also really bringing history to life once the house is fully renovated and opened to the public as a museum. If only professor Peabody were still around. He was my biggest supporter, and really, half the reason I even got hired on. But his replacement, Douchebag Dan, I mean, Mr. Patterson is another story. I will never for the life of me understand how someone like him got put in charge of this project.

The sprawling Victorian mansion looms before me as I pull into the parking lot. Even after months of working here, it still takes my breath away. While my parents never seemed to care a bit for it, I’ve always been enthralled with the place and the history it practically oozes., and I’ve always been enthralled by it. Charlotte's adventurous spirit seems to radiate from every brick and gable. When my parents, to my great despair, decided to cash in on my mother’s inheritance, and just sell the place I was mortified. I had just assumed it would be kept in the family as it had been for over one hundred years. At that point Ifigured it was the last I would see of any of her treasures, or the mansion for that matter. Never in a million years did I think I would get the chance to one day work on the collection myself. My annoyance with the new boss fades into the background as I remember what got me interested in history and adventure in the first place.

I nearly collide with Amanda Frost, head of PR, as I rush through the entrance. Her perfectly manicured eyebrow arches as she steadies me, her gaze falling to my coffee-stained blouse.

"Cutting it close, aren't we, Zoe?" she says, her voice sharp but not unkind. " Meeting's already started, and you look like you just wrestled a cappuccino machine. Might want to cover that up."

"I know, I know! Animal shelter ran late," I explain breathlessly.

Amanda sighs. "Hmm, not sure how that ties in, but whatever...there are no donors visiting today, so I guess beyond a fashion faux pas, it’s no harm no foul." She gives me a friendly wink before striding away, heels clicking authoritatively.

I shake my head, marveling at how Amanda always looks board room ready, even on a Saturday morning.

I barely make it to my tiny office slash glorified storage closet before said boss pokes his head in.

"Ah, Zoe," he says, his tone dripping with condescension. "So glad you could join us today. I trust you are prepared for our meeting. It’s starts in five minutes you know...”

I paste on my brightest fake smile. "Absolutely, Dr. Patterson. I can’t wait to share my ideas. Mr. Peabody said they capture my Aunt Charlotte spirit perfectly. And I...”

“Mr Peabody, has sadly passed on my dear. And we are all so very impressed and grateful to have you here, given your family connection to the estate. I am sure your family must beproud that you have opted to dedicate yourself to bringing the collection to the public.”

“Not really, sir, they just wanted the money ...”

“Yes, yes, be that as it may, please remember, that I am in charge here now. I will decide what and how we display things.”

“Yes sir”

Did he even listen to what I said?

With barely a nod he spins on his heel and heads toward a sitting room of the estate, which now serves as the conference room. As I follow, I catch the eye of Olivia, our resident historian and my closest ally here. She gives me a reassuring smile, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose as she nods.

Now fifteen minutes late, Dan finally strolls in and launches into a monotonous spiel about budgets and scheduling. When he opens the floor for new exhibit ideas, I practically launch myself out of my chair.

"So," I begin, willing my voice not to shake, "I have a few ideas. In keeping with my great aunt’s interests...”

“Ms Winthrop’syou mean,” he interrupts me,

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