Ask

"You need to ask him," my wife said, looking at me with the look she gave me when she wanted something, the look that made me do whatever she wanted.

"A...ask him? W...why?"

"Because he's your boss," she said, "with HR the way it is today, the only way he's going to do this is if you ask him."

I sighed. "I...I'll talk to him," I said.

"No," she said, "I mean you can talk to him, you should, but you need to put it in writing, too."

"In writing? What...what am I supposed to say? Will you fuck my wife?"

"Don't be crude," she said like she was scolding a child.

"Sorry," I looked down. "S...seriously, what...what am I supposed to say?"

"Well, I'd go with your heart," she said. "Like...Mr. Evans, I know you've flirted with my wife as some company events and I wanted to let you know I'm okay with that. It sounds weird, but while we love each other very much, we've always been sexually incompatible and if she's going to take a lover, I want it to be someone I respect and look up to, someone who will match with her, someone I can trust. Someone like you."

"You're serious."

"Totally."