Shopping for a CEO’s Honeymoon
Our home looks like the set for Extreme Home Makeover, except there’s no bus to move and all of the workmen act like I’m invisible as I wander downstairs after waking up naked in an empty bed.
I throw on clothes and am down the stairs when I spot my husband.
“What is going on?” I ask Andrew, who is huddled over blueprints with some guy who looks like he runs a union hall in South Boston. Tight eyes, distrustful look, goatee, and an intensity that makes it clear you want him on your side.
Andrew breaks away, kisses my cheek, and gives me a saucy half grin. “Just like you wanted. Here we go.”
“Here we go what? We barely talked about what we wanted!”
“We did,” he says, suddenly defensive. “In bed,” he whispers.
“What I want in bed has nothing to do with tile colors and three-season sunrooms!” I say.
“The guys aren’t working on anything like that,” he hisses as a few workmen suppress smiles. “We’re putting in new backup systems.”
“Backups for what?”
“Power outages. Acts of God. Hurricanes. Bomb cyclones that leave six feet of snow.”
I snort. “What, no alien contingency plan? Got a blueprint for a universal extraterrestrial language translator in there?”
Andrew reddens and avoids eye contact.
I frown. “Andrew?” I grab his arm and pull him aside, his muscles tense. “What are you doing? This isn’t how I envisioned remodeling and spending our honeymoon. For one, we didn’t have sex that second time this morning.”
He looks at the clock. “It’s only 7:53. Plenty of time for that.” He grabs me at the waist and pulls me close, trying to divert me with a kiss.
“We’ve got the geothermal heat unit figured out, and when we redo the gutter system and the roof, in addition to the solar panels, we’ve got an evaporation system set up for clean water collection. Storage is next,” he says to me.
“All that in the first hour of work?” I’m stunned.
“I’m efficient. Two weeks of my focused attention is like five years of a normal human
“Efficient and humble. I love that in a man.”
“You’d better, because you’re stuck with me forever.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
I get a pat on the ass in response.