Page 14 of Horn in My Side

JASMINE

Jasmine took in a deep breath, inhaling the savory and sour sharpness of the soup inside the pot.

Okra, sliced radish, shishito peppers, and eggplant floated to the top as her wooden spoon stirred the contents.

Sinigang was a favorite comfort food, bringing up memories from her childhood she desperately did not want to lose, of afternoons sitting in the kitchen, watching her grandmother bent over the stove as she dropped the ingredients into the large pot.

The compound they lived in was home to multitudes of Gonzalezes—uncles, aunts, cousins, and second cousins and even more distant relatives.

Sunday dinners were sacred for the clan and always held at the ancestral house where her grandfather and grandmother lived.

While most individual families had their own houses within the compound, Jasmine and her father had moved in with her grandparents after her mother had died giving birth, and so her Lola Marisol had practically raised her.

Jasmine used a fork to poke at an okra floating on the surface.

Much too firm, but that was no problem as she had some time before Kap arrived, so she turned the heat down.

It was still light outside, and he wouldn’t be waking up until the sun began to set.

She’d messaged him this afternoon, asking if he wanted to have dinner at her place.

Even though he’d been in the middle of his sleep, he’d managed to reply with a thumbs-up.

It would be nice to have him around. They weren’t confidants who shared everything, not that Jasmine ever had that kind of friendship with anyone, but she just didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts and the chatty tree giant would ensure she wouldn’t even have time to think about what had happened this afternoon.

Instead of cringing, outrage bubbled up in her chest like the soup on her stove.

Sure, she hadn’t exactly made the best decisions in her life and she did screw up every now and then, but to have Mal scold her like a little girl when it had been his fault in the first place?

That was completely uncalled for. She could barely hold in her anger, and the only reason she didn’t tear him a new one was she remembered he was still technically the owner of Fantastic Tails and her landlord.

Jasmine considered herself a patient person, but she had her limits. And this was only day one.

Would she even make it to six months?

Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a business owner.

Maybe I should just give up and leave.

A knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts. Looking out the window, the sky was painted in the pinks and purples of dusk, which meant Kap should be rousing from his sleep right about now. Perhaps he woke up early.

Or he was hungry.

Kap survived mostly on takeout and pizza and couldn’t cook to save his life. The prospect of a home-cooked meal would definitely be a good incentive to come over sooner.

“Coming!” she called as a second knock came. She scurried down the stairs and threw the door open. “You must be starving if—Mal?”

For a split second, she thought she was imagining things. No, it was definitely Mal. He stood in front of her door, his humungous body filling up the entire frame.

“Uh, good evening, Jasmine.”

Refusing to look him in the eye, she focused on his chest instead.

He was the last person she wanted to see right now.

She’d spent the rest of the day upstairs at the shop while he remained on the ground floor, as if they’d drawn a border between the two levels that neither dared to cross.

Fortunately, she had some granola bars stashed up there or she would have starved come lunchtime.

“What are you doing here?” Of course, he did own the house and the garage, so he had every right to be outside her door.

“May I speak with you, please?”

Her first instinct was to slam the door in his face. However, the words caught her off-guard, not to mention the tone of his voice—somber, maybe even penitent—and the way his shoulders hunched over made her pause. Glancing up, she met his purple gaze. “Speak about what?”

“I want to apologize for what happened today.”

Now that she didn’t expect.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. “I’m really sorry. I messed up and you’re right.”

Was she hearing him correctly? He was actually apologizing? “Right about what?”

“I jumped to conclusions. That it was your fault.”

“That’s fine.” Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “You probably think I can’t do this. And maybe I can’t.”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I don’t think that at all.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t, but . . .” He scratched at his head with a claw. “Have you ever run a business? Do you know what’s going on? Specifically, with the shop?”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated for a moment. “It’s not doing too well.

Barely makes money most months, and Vrig didn’t take a salary or withdraw any profit, but he didn’t need to with his pension.

Once you take over, you could probably make it work for a few months, maybe cut a few things here and there.

But one major expense or repair could put you behind. ”

“I know that.” Or she had an inkling, at least. “I didn’t have access to the books, but he was always transparent about the costs, especially when I asked about doing some upgrades or hiring more staff.

Like I mentioned when you asked about the water-filtration system, he told me there wasn’t enough money for anything extra. ”

“And you still want to run this business?”

“Yes, I do.” The words came out of her mouth without hesitation.

His eyebrows knitted together. “Why?”

Why indeed?

“I know it may seem foolish to you, since there’s no guarantee I could even keep the shop if I bought it.

But . . .” Jasmine pressed her lips together, then blew out a breath.

“Have you ever felt like you had to do something? Want to do it so bad that there’s no alternative and you couldn’t see yourself doing anything else? ”

His face sobered. “Yes.”

“That’s how I feel about Fantastic Tails.

And this town even.” She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing at her elbows.

“I’ve always felt like I never belonged anywhere, even as a kid.

Then my dad brought us to America and everything here was strange and new.

We moved around a lot before I could even settle down and plant roots.

But when I arrived here in town and started working at the shop, I don’t know .

. .” While she hadn’t meant to make such a confession, it all spilled out of her and she couldn’t stop. “It felt like what a home should be.”

Mal didn’t respond for a heartbeat. “I think I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He ground his teeth together, his tusks gnawing at his lips. “Look, if you’re determined to run this place, I’ll do my best to help you while I’m here, okay? And I hope you accept my apology.”

If it were possible, her jaw would have unhinged itself and dropped to her feet. “I accept.”

“Good. And for the record, I don’t think you’re incapable of running a business. I’m sure you’d be successful at anything you tried.”

“Thanks.” She let out a sigh. “I just wish it were easier. I’ve been going cross-eyed trying to figure out the paperwork to get the loan started.”

“You’re smart. You’ll figure it out. And I promise, when—not if—you secure that loan, I’ll buy you a bottle of champagne.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“An orc keeps his word.”

There was the smallest tug at the corner of his mouth, but before she could remark on it, their gazes locked once more.

The indigo in his eyes intensified, making it impossible to look away.

A bead of sweat trickled down between her breasts, and she recalled how big and warm his hands had been on her waist earlier today when he’d picked her up from the counter.

And how she had slid along his long, hard body . . .

“Yo, Jasmine, I’m starving! Is that soup ready yet?”

Though Mal’s large frame blocking her view prevented her from seeing the speaker, she recognized that voice. “Hey, Kap.”

“’Scuse me, passing through.”

Mal’s entire body stiffened before he stepped aside.

“Thanks, man.” The tree giant was more or less the same height as Mal, though not as wide and definitely much hairier, with long, dark locks flowing down past his shoulders and fur peeking out from the sleeves of his uniform shirt and the top of his collar.

His light-yellow eyes darted curiously from Jasmine to Mal.

“I didn’t realize you’d invited another guest.”

“Kap, this is Mal,” she introduced. “He’s Vrig’s nephew and the new owner of Fantastic Tails. And the house, of course.”

“I’m Kap.” He held out his hand. “Sorry for your loss, man. Vrig was a cool guy.”

“Thanks,” Mal muttered, shaking his hand.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Kap asked.

“No—” he began.

“He was—” Jasmine said at the same time.

After a beat of silence, she spoke up. “I mean, there’s enough food.

” Hospitality was practically embedded into her soul; back in her grandparents’ house, if a neighbor or friend came by on a Sunday night, they would automatically be invited to stay for dinner.

Her ancestor spirits would riot if she didn’t at least offer. “Won’t you join us?”

“No, I’ve already eaten. Jasmine, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Without another word, he turned around and lumbered back toward the house.

Jasmine bit her lip, torn between calling after him and staying put.

“Oh man,” Kap exclaimed, sniffing the air. “I can smell that sinigang from here. Are we ready to eat?”

She smiled at him wryly, and put her boss out of her thoughts. “Almost. C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Jasmine climbed the stairs, Kap lumbering behind her. Thankfully both the stairway and the apartment above the garage had been expanded to accommodate orcs, so Kap didn’t have to bend down or hunch over to fit inside.