The Unhoneymooners

My new boss.

In Maui???

Please don’t ask.

Just tell me how you managed to date those twins w/o either of them finding out.

Teach me, Yoda.

First, only lie when you need to and keep it simple.

You always overexplain and it’s secondhand embarrassing.

MOVING ON

Know your story going in

Don’t try to make it up on the fly. God you’re so bad at that

Don’t fidget and def don’t touch your face. You do that too. Just sit still

Oh, and if you can, touch them.

It creates a sense of intimacy and makes them want to take their pants off instead of asking you questions

Ew this is my boss!

I’m just saying it couldn’t hurt

Diego.

You’re a scientist. Do some research.

I glance up from my Google search at the sound of a knock.

“Not to be all cliché and husbandy and hassle you about being late”—there’s a pause and I can practically see Ethan frowning down at his watch from the other side of the door—“but it’s almost six.”

“I know.” I manage to keep the shouted version of my reply contained to the inside of my head. After Ethan agreed to dinner, I sprinted to the bedroom to try on every article of clothing I brought with me, before texting my sister and Diego in a panic. The room is a disaster, and I’m not sure I’m any more ready to do this now than I was an hour ago. I am a mess.

Ethan’s voice carries through the door again, closer this time. “ ‘I know’ as in I’m almost ready, or ‘I know’ as in I know how to tell time, kindly fuck off?”

Both, if we’re being honest. “The first.”

Ethan knocks. “Okay if I come in my room?”

My room. I open the door and let him in, feeling delighted by the mess I’m leaving behind me.

Ethan steps in. He’s about to meet my boss and spend the next few hours lying his face off, and he’s in black jeans and a Surly Brewery T-shirt. He looks like he’s going out to dinner at Chili’s, not having dinner with the wife’s new boss. His calm exterior only amplifies my panic because of course he’s not worried; he has nothing to lose. The dread in my stomach blooms. Ethan has this, I absolutely do not.

He looks around the room and runs an aggravated hand through his hair. Of course it manages to fall perfectly back into place. “All of this was in one suitcase?”

“I am totally out of my depth here.”

“That’s been my general impression so

far. Be more specific.”

I drop onto the bed, kicking aside a hot pink bra and groaning when it snags on the heel of my shoe. “Whenever I tell lies, I get caught. I once told my professor I had to miss class to take care of my sick roommate, and he looked up right as my roommate walked past us in the hallway. He knew her from his Tuesday/Thursday lecture.”