Page 6 of Orc'd At A Wedding
She laughs, a real laugh this time, bright and a little breathless, and the sound does something strange to me.
Focus, Olog. Professional boundaries.
We reach the reception desk, and the clerk behind it, young, blonde, aggressively cheerful—looks up with a smile that falters slightly when she registers my full height.
"Good afternoon! Welcome to Seaside Grandeur Resort and Spa. Checking in?"
"Bliss Vance," Bliss says, stepping slightly forward. "I should have a reservation for the weekend."
The clerk's fingers fly over her keyboard, her smile bright and practiced.
"Vance, Vance... yes! Here we are. Let me just pull up your confirmation."
She clicks through several screens, her expression shifting from cheerful to focused to faintly concerned.
My internal alarm system pings.
"Is there a problem?" I ask, keeping my tone polite but letting just enough weight into the question to convey that I am paying attention.
The clerk's smile wobbles.
"Well... it looks like there was a small issue with the booking system. We’re close to capacity this weekend because of the wedding, and it seems your original room assignment was... accidentally double-booked."
Bliss goes still beside me.
"Double-booked," she repeats, her voice flat.
"But don't worry!" The clerk's smile ratchets up several notches, compensating for the bad news with sheer enthusiasticenergy. "We do have one suite available. It's actually an upgrade! Beautiful ocean view, king bed, gorgeous marble bathroom?—"
"One king bed?" Bliss interrupts.
The clerk nods, still smiling.
"Yes! Just the one. But it's averylarge bed. California king. Plenty of space."
I feel Bliss's pulse spike where my hand still rests against her hip.
This is a problem.
The booking was supposed to include two beds, or at minimum a suite with a pull-out couch. Separate sleeping arrangements. Professional boundaries maintained. The contract I signed with the app was very clear about appropriate conduct, and sharing a bed with a client falls firmly into the category of "situations requiring extensive documentation and explicit consent."
I need to fix this.
"Is there any possibility of a rollaway bed?" I ask. "Or access to an additional room?"
The clerk's smile turns apologetic.
"I'm so sorry. We're completely sold out. Every room, every rollaway, every possible sleeping surface has been claimed by the wedding party and their guests. This is truly the last available option."
Bliss takes a very careful breath.
I run a rapid threat assessment on the situation. Options: Sleep in the car. Highly unprofessional and defeats the purpose of the booking. Sleep in the lobby. Same problem. Insist on finding alternative accommodations off-site. Breaks the continuity of the cover story and raises questions about why her devoted boyfriend wouldn't just share a bed with her.
One solution remains.
I look down at Bliss, waiting for her call.
Her face is flushed, her eyes slightly wide, and I can see her brain working through the same tactical analysis I just ran.
