What We Could Do in the Bedroom

Michael

“Five bedrooms isn’t that small you know.”

It was small compared to my apartment and any other vacation homes I owned. I’d found the house in Bar Harbor a quaint getaway in the spirit of the closely-knit community.

“How many bedrooms do you have in your house?” I asked.

She wet her lips again. “Two bedrooms. But it's no summer home.”

“I’ll take you up there sometime. It’s really quite peaceful.”

“I thought you didn’t take guests up there,” she teased.

“If all goes well with the Christmas charity, maybe I’ll consider you spearheading that one as well.”

“I don’t know,” she said, clicking her tongue. “What could I possibly do with five bedrooms all to myself?”

I thought of a hundred things—or positions— we could do in those bedrooms. I pushed that thought out of my mind, keeping myself treading on the line between professional and personal.

“I’d come with you the first time,” I said. “To help settle you into the role.”

“I’m not a fan of flying,” she said.

“That’s one trip I like