Page 5 of Orc'd At A Wedding
The question comes from Aunt Susan, who's still hovering nearby like a particularly judgmental surveillance drone.
I glance down at Bliss, catching her eye, and I can see the faint panic there, the wild internal scramble as she tries to remember which fabricated story we're supposed to be using.
I've got this.
"Cliff diving incident," I say smoothly, committing fully to the absurdity.
Bliss makes a small, choked noise that could generously be interpreted as agreement.
"Bliss's raft overturned in a class-four rapid. I was working safety and recovery for the expedition company. I pulled her out of the water, performed a very brief medical assessment, and she looked up at me, soaking wet and furious, and said—" I pause, letting the anticipation build, "—'If you tell anyone I screamed, I'm giving you a one-star review.'"
Aunt Susan blinks.
Brandon's mouth opens slightly.
Bliss, to her absolute credit, doesn't laugh. Her shoulders shake slightly, but she holds it together.
"I knew immediately she was remarkable," I continue, my tone grave and sincere. "Most people panic in that situation. Bliss threatened my rating. I was impressed."
"You almost drowned and your first thought was Yelp?"
Brandon sounds genuinely baffled.
Bliss lowers her head back to look up at me, and there's something bright and wild in her eyes now, the panic replaced by barely suppressed laughter.
"I take customer service very seriously," she says, her voice only slightly strangled.
I nod solemnly.
"She does. It's one of the many qualities I admire about her."
Brandon shifts his weight, visibly uncomfortable now, and I can see the exact moment he realizes he's losing this encounter.
"Well. That's... that's great. I'm happy for you, Bliss. Really."
The words are hollow, performative, and I catalog the insincerity for future reference.
"We should get checked in," I say, steering the conversation toward a natural exit point. "The rehearsal dinner is in a few hours, and I need to review the seating arrangements."
"Review the seating arrangements?" Brandon repeats, his confusion deepening.
"Tactical positioning," I explain, completely deadpan. "I like to know my sight lines in advance. Ensures optimal protective coverage."
Bliss makes another strangled noise.
Brandon stares at me like I've just sprouted a second head.
Mission accomplished.
I guide Bliss away from the cluster of relatives, my hand still resting possessively on her hip, and I feel the moment the tension drains out of her. Her entire body sags slightly against me, and she exhales a breath that sounds like she's been holding it for the last five minutes.
"Oh wow," she whispers, her voice pitched low enough that only I can hear it. "Tactical positioning? Sight lines?"
"Authenticity is important," I murmur back. "I wanted him to believe I take your safety seriously."
"He thinks you're insane."
"Good. Insane is memorable. Memorable supports the narrative that you've moved on to someone far more interesting."
