Drogan

I feel another excellent day ahead at Blackstone, Inc. as I walk through the doors. Over the last ten years, I've come to know this place as a well-oiled machine. Every day, I am proud to say that I was a part of the success of this powerhouse of business and client-focused relations.

"Good Morning, ," the receptionist, Seraphina, says and sits up a bit straighter like she's been called to attention. She's a pretty siren with long white hair, large green eyes, and skin as pale as porcelain.

"Morning, Seraphina, beautiful day for doing business," I reply.

"It sure is, sir, it sure is," she says in a tone that would lure even the most righteous sailor to their doom.

I wave my ID at the machine, the little gates open with a welcome swing, and I stride with confidence to the elevator. They open with a ping, and I am greeted by Dwight Dimnud, a glum-looking centaur who works in accounts.

"Good morning, Dwight," I say as I step into the lift.

"Not really, sir, to be honest, that crazy lady was on the bus again," Dwight says.

"Wasn't a question, Dwight," I reply. By this point, I should know better than to expect a simple "good morning to you too" from Dwight.

"She looks at me funny. Well, when I say me, I mean my knees," Dwight says, looking down at his knees. The elevator jerks into action.

"Maybe she just likes your knees," I tell him.

"You think? Do you like my knees?" Dwight asks.

"Haven't really thought much on the matter, Dwight," I reply.

"Me, neither," Dwight says as he stares at his knees.

The elevator comes to a stop, thankfully at my floor, and the doors open.

"Have a good day now, Dwight," I say as I exit the elevator, leaving Dwight behind still staring at his knees.

It's a short walk to my office, where I am greeted by the sight of Trixie, a nine-and-a-half-inch pixie, at her little desk outside. She looks excited to see me.

"Hey, Trixie," I greet her.

"Sir, so good to see you. How have you been? What did you do last night?" As always, she fires off her questions at the speed of light, which can sometimes make you quite dizzy.

"Prepare for today, Trixie. You gotta always be one step ahead in this game," I tell her.

"That's such good advice. I must remember that, please, please, I do hope I'll remember that. Do you think I'll remember that?" Trixie says, her green eyes wide, pleading for a response.

"Of course you will," I tell her, "Everyone here?"

"Yes, sir, some were here before I even was. I said to myself, oh my, they're early. Did they sleep here last night? I thought to myself, isn't that funny? I did laugh." Trixie suddenly stops, flutters into me, and whispers. "I laughed so loud I think they heard me? Do you think they heard me?"

"No, I'm sure they didn't. I'll go straight in just in case some of them have fallen asleep," I joke.

"Really? Do you think they have? What should we do? Should I check first?" Trixie says as her brown hair flops about her face.

"That won't be necessary. I'll take care of it, don't you worry," I assure her.

"Thank you so much, sir. You are one of the nicest orcs I have ever known," Trixie says with a wide smile.

"That's very kind of you," I tell her as I head into my office and take the door leading from it into the boardroom. I pause and gather my thoughts.

This is my arena, and within it, I am the undefeated champion of business. I take no prisoners and I always fight fair. But I always win.

I launch myself through the door. Always let a room know you have arrived.

"Good morning, everyone," I say, assessing the room and fixing my position on the battlefield.

Immediately, all conversations come to a halt as they all jump to their feet and greet me. I acknowledge each one with a nod and a look straight in the eye. After that, I open my briefcase, take out my papers, place them in a neat pile on the desk before me, and sit down.

As I do, the rest sit down as well.

"So, over to you, Paulus. Tell me, where are we with the Cosmus contract?" I look directly at Paulus, a skilled businessman and a fellow orc.

Paulus grins. "All signed, sealed, and delivered, sir," he tells me with pride.

"Where did you finish?" I ask him.

"Thirty percent below the asking, sir," he reveals with pride.

"Excellent, Paulus, excellent work as always," I tell him.

"Thank you, sir. I learned from the best," Paulus says.

Yes, you did, I think as I turn my attention to Derek, a portly human who is always a bit hit-and-miss, but I give him the benefit of the doubt because we can't all be born with the gift.

Derek's eyes flick around the room. "Well, we've run into a slight problem with the Bickerstaff deal," he confesses.

"We?" I ask.

"Sorry, I have run into a problem with the Bickerstaff deal," Derek says.

"Well," I say as I bang my hands down on the table, "Let's solve this problem then, shall we?" I say, looking round the room, nods of agreement greeting me.

"Okay, thank you. Well, they won't move on the handling costs. It's a union thing. I know their hands are tied," Derek says.

"And you think it's the unions that have their hands tied?" I ask, knowing the answer, of course.

"Yes, most definitely," Derek replies.

"And have you spoken to the union?" I ask him.

"Well, no, it's not really my job to be dealing with the unions, sir," Derek says.

"Well, whose job is it?" I ask him.

"Their COO, of course," Derek says.

I bang my hand on the table, and they all jump. "Bingo," I shout and let the room settle. "So, Derek, here is what you do. You go to the CEO and tell him to put some pressure on his COO to put some pressure on the unions. And you tell their CEO…"

"Bob," Derek suddenly says.

"Okay, you tell Bob if his COO can't get the union to shift, then perhaps his board should be looking for a CEO who is not in bed with the unions. Then casually mention you're having dinner with Harkus Feldom this week, and he'll roll over like a kitsune looking to get their belly rubbed," I say, then lean back in my chair.

"Sounds like a damn good plan, boss," Pictus Redhorn, the excitable minotaur, booms as most around the table rush to cover their ears.

"Good, now, any more business?" I ask the room.

A collective of ‘no, I'm good' and ‘on it' rustles around the table. "Good, now let's go make some money," I call out as I stand and give my best battle pose. The room claps. I gather up my papers, put them in my briefcase, and exit my arena, the reigning champion.

As I close the door to the boardroom, I am greeted by Trixie. "Your friend Rakgu called, such a nice guy. Is he dating anyone, do you know? Not that I'm thinking of asking him out or anything. Oh, dear, what if he's married? Did I do a bad thing?" Trixie finally finishes.

"He's married to his community commitments, I'm afraid," I tell her.

"Is she pretty?" Trixie asks.

"Who," I ask.

"This community commitment of his?" Trixie asks.

"Yes, very," I joke, but I don't think she gets it.

"Always a bridesmaid," Trixie says sadly as she flutters away.

I glance at my watch. Another twenty minutes until my next meeting, and then a video conference after that. And then I need to hear a presentation from marketing on our next campaign. In my mind, I plot everything I'll be able to get in today. If there's a moment to spare, it's a moment I'm going to use to work.

Still, I have a little time to make a call.

I walk over to my desk and pick up my phone to call Rakgu back.

"Call Rakgu," I tell it.

"Calling Rakgu," it replies. I think about changing the voice on my phone. It's beginning to annoy me. I take note of that in my planner and pencil it in for Tuesday afternoon of next week.

"! How goes it, my orc," Rakgu's cheery voice greets me.

"Good, buddy, how are you?" I reply.

"All good here, guess what? We got the funding for the integrated school, woop, woop!" Rakgu tells me.

"Wonderful news," I reply.

"Couldn't have done without those strings you pulled for us, buddy. I owe you one for that," Rakgu says.

"Listen, no need for thanks. Any way I can help you, just let me know. Bringing the two communities together can only benefit us all. A chance starts with the children, Rakgu. You know I've always believed that," I say.

"Let's have a beer to celebrate, buddy," he says.

"Soon, real soon," I say, "Listen, I want to run something by you."

"I'm all ears," Rakgu replies.

"Well, you know Blackstone's ten-year anniversary is coming up. The thing is, we don't exactly have the ideal situation for company morale building, since so many people travel in and out of the office. Our guys don't get to spend a lot of time with the office team, you know what I mean? You all work kind of singularly, like you. Rakgu, when was the last time you were here in Harmony Springs?"

He gives a short laugh. "I mean… Well, I did spend a weekend there about four months ago. But no, I get what you're saying. So what are you thinking?"

"I just think it would be nice to celebrate as a team everything that we've done. Let's have a formal office party for the anniversary that gets everyone together in one place for once," I explain.

"Sounds like a great idea! I'm proud of our achievements. Heck, let's celebrate them. Ten years. We've helped a lot of folks over the years," Rakgu replies.

"Thing is, I don't want to look unprofessional or look like I am showing off, you know. Like those sorts on Lockedin who post about how great they are every time they photocopy something the right way. It needs to be classy and hit the right tone," I explain further.

"I hear ya, bud. What about just hosting a dinner party? A chosen few who won't see it as some sort of bad Lockedin post?" Rakgu suggests.

"It's a good idea, but I don't think it's enough," I tell him.

"Let me think about it. I'll ask around, gather some options, and we'll take it from there, how does that sound?" he says.

"That sounds great, thank you," I reply.

"We'll get this sorted for you," Rakgu says. "You let me deal with it."

"Talk later," I say and end the call.

He's a good friend but I'm not sure this is his area of expertise. Certainly not mine, but it has to be someone's. Who can throw us a great party with the perfect amount of pizzazz?

Keep reading on Amazon… Bossy Orc Daddy is out now!