“Yeah,” she sighs. “So he’ll be there along with his nimrod friends. Which makes things more difficult, because I’m goingto have to navigate all of them. Not that anyone talks to me in the office, but there were rumblings that Chad was pulled into Ellison’s office for calling me out. Either way, I wouldn’t put it past him to try to sniff out the fraud between you and me.”
“Sounds like a weasel thing to do.”
“I agree. So we need to be on our A game.”
“I’m in. Just tell me what I have to do.”
“First of all, we should never be split up. As much as we can handle it at least. If they separate us, we can’t stand as a united front, and that’s what these next eight days are about: being a united front.”
“Got it. I’m stuck to you for eight days. Good thing for you I have excellent hygiene.”
I can practically hear her roll her eyes.
“Second, we need to be affectionate but not overly affectionate. We’re a couple on the rocks, but there’s still love between us, potential for us to reconcile. So let’s keep it to hand-holding and pelvis-to-pelvis hugs. Side hugs are for strangers, and kissing is for couples who are not having issues. We’re looking for a healthy middle.”
“Got it. Hand-holding, no kissing, definitely no public tongue action, and crotch-to-crotch hugs.”
“I said pelvis-to-pelvis.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” I ask.
“Yes, but ‘pelvis’ sounds less vile rolling off the tongue.”
“Don’t hate on ‘crotch,’” I say with a smirk that she doesn’t find amusing. Oh-kay. “What else?”
“We need to figure out what the hell we’re fighting about. What our downfall is. The story we came up with during the therapy session was…a little out there.”
“That’s what happens when you’re flying by the seat of your pants. You never know what might be said.”
“No,” she says sternly. “We had a plan, you veered away from the plan, and then we were stuck with me zipping your dick in a sleeping bag.”
I chuckle. “Honestly, that would have killed at my improv class.”
She looks unamused as she says, “Yes, but we’re not at improv class, so no more dick zippering. We need to find simple differences that don’t make us look bad.”
“Okay,” I say. The weekend gave me more time to consider this, and I knew Scottie would want to hash this out, so I came up with something that should track with our personalities well. “Uh, well, since I’m into green roofs, maybe the bigger issue that we haven’t gotten into yet is that I’ve been pressuring you to travel with me to other countries to educate them on green roofs, while you want to work your way up the corporate ladder. Gives you the freedom and independence of wanting to make something of yourself and makes me look a little dickish assuming my job is more important than yours.”
“Oh,” she says in a gleeful surprise. “That…that could work.”
“And maybe all the other things we’ve been fighting about are just nuggets compared to the larger, overall picture. Like when you’re mad about something, but all the little things drive you to the boiling point.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” I see her fully turn toward me from the corner of my eye. “That’s very astute for a twenty-seven-year-old.”
“Just because the number is young doesn’t mean the brain is young. Uh…wait…”
“Nice try.” She chuckles. “Okay, so then we’ll run with that, because I’m assuming there are going to be some therapy sessions we have to go through?”
“Yes,” I say. “They’re not always on the couch like Sanders said, but there are some one-on-ones.”
“Okay, so then midway, I say we bring up that issue, we’re truthful with ourselves, we let him believe he’s working his magic, and then slowly we start acting like we’re falling in love all over again.”
“That works for me.”
“Great. Okay, this could work.” She clasps her hands together and then gasps. “Wait, another rule. You’re not allowed to be friends with the Brads and Chad. I can’t stomach the thought of you high-fiving them. They’re not our friends; they’re mere pawns in the game we’re playing. Got it?”
Pawns, not sure why I find that so funny…and charming.
“Got it. We’re not friends with them. Anything else?”
