Page 28 of Orc Me, Maybe
Because I am not a clipboard with legs.
I’m not a pawn.
And I’m damn sure not his “asset.”
I’m Julie Wren.
And I am going to save this camp.
CHAPTER 12
TORACK
Idon’t realize I’m staring at her until Groth says something stupid and I have to pretend I didn’t miss half the meeting.
Again.
Julie’s across the clearing, mid-conversation with the grounds team, animated and focused. She’s pointing at the south boundary on the oversized camp map, gesturing with her entire arm like she’s painting direction into the air itself. A lock of hair’s fallen from her braid and it dances along her cheek with every movement.
And I can’t look away.
“What if we repurpose the north supply shed?” Groth repeats beside me. “Or we can just enchant it into a pop-up taco stand. Multi-functional. Think of the morale.”
I grunt. “No tacos.”
“Harsh,” Groth mutters, making a note anyway.
I cross my arms and look back toward Julie. She’s still talking, now crouched near the trail entrance with one of the teen volunteers, showing them how to reflag the safety markers. She’s not just giving instructions—she’steaching. Investing. Making every moment feel like it matters.
And the worst part?
Itdoes.
Julie matters.
More than I’m comfortable admitting.
She’s threaded herself into the pulse of this place without asking. Without demanding. She justfit. Where I’d been bracing for conflict, she stepped in with clipboards and structure. With follow-through. With kindness that wasn’t fragile. And somehow—without magic—she’s enchanted the very structure of this camp.
And now?
I need her.
More than I expected. More than I want to.
And that pisses me off.
Because I built my life on control. On being the one who doesn’t falter. Doesn’t depend. Doesn’twant.
And then she walked in with her sarcastic commentary and ink-stained to-do lists, and I haven’t had a steady thought since.
“Boss?” Groth says again, eyeing me like I might combust.
I blink. “What?”
“You just rejected tacosandforgot to insult my construction estimates. Are you dying?”
I shoot him a look sharp enough to cut steel. “Go check the storm drain filters.”
