The next day was travel day. I went to work as usual, kissing the girls goodbye for the week, and rode in with Karen. Chris and I were leaving from work to catch our flight, but wouldn’t leave the office until almost 7:00 pm. I had debated heading home, and leaving from there, but didn’t want to leave the car at the airport, especially since Jim had some plans and thought he could use the truck while I was gone.
The trip there was uneventful for the most part. The ride out to the airport was nice, Chris and I went over the customer issues, and I told her about the product de-featuring, looking to get them to have some chips in the game. She was excited by the idea, and let me know how happy she was with my work. I let her know that I liked working for her – her hands-off attitude, supporting, but not micro-managing, was great.
Then it was a lot of running around the airport, dealing with international travel, a change in gate location, and finally getting aboard. Our seats were a long ways apart, in the cattle car section of the plane, and it was pretty full. I had hoped to have a pretty young thing sitting by me, but what was the chance. No, I got an evangelical preacher, who tried to explain to me the idea of giving to receive. Thank God for headphones.
We arrived at dawn in Madrid, and were able to catch a limo in to town to drop off our bags at the hotel. The desk girl was kind enough to find us one empty room to move into immediately, the other wouldn’t be ready until after 1:00 pm. We took turns getting ready. I felt a little awkward taking my clothing into the bathroom to clean up and change. Chris went first, cleaning up, and then moving into the bedroom with her gear, while I used the bathroom. She came out wearing the hotel bathrobe, and I still couldn’t help myself, wondering what was going on under the rented robe.
When I was done, I came out find her standing there in her bra and panties, completing her preparations. She had quite a nice little body, curvaceous and padded, but she hadn’t gone to pot. I enjoyed the view. Her ass looked especially tempting in her tight little panties. They weren’t quite thongs, but they were a long ways from the daily cotton panties.
“I hope you don’t mind, but my dress is still in the bathroom. I’m letting the steam take out some of the wrinkles. I don’t imagine a guy in your position would be bothered by a little underwear.” She told me, her hands over her head working on a curling iron in her hair.
I laughed. “I’m sorry Chris, but if your underwear were any littler, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions. I’m just a man.”
She smiled at me in the mirror. She glanced down at her rather skimpy, matching black lace panties and bra. “Thanks for the warning. I may just have to keep that under consideration.”
I retrieved my laptop and starting checking email, finding out that hooking up to the internet in Spain was a little more difficult than I was used to. It was good, I needed a distraction so that I just didn’t stand there, staring at my boss’s nearly nude body.
It wasn’t long before we were both ready, and downstairs, meeting our hosts.
The meetings went over very well. The fact that I was fluent in Spanish turned out to be a big hit with them, in spite of my Latin American accent. They had a bright Captain there who found the biggest hole I’d left in the program within 5 minutes, and he and I were able to hammer out the details of the best way to deal with it. It took some time, and shot most of the morning. At the end, the plan we hit on was a good 90%+ match with the stuff I’d taken out. A home run for me, and it made him a local hero. Brownie points all around.
We had a long lunch, in the formal dining area on the military base, then were given an extended tour of the facilities. We talked to a couple of different groups about the plans and were really having a nice time. By five o’clock Chris and I were smiling to each other. These guys were definitely in.
They insisted on taking us downtown for Tapas, the classic Spanish never-ending appetizers, and we hit the central square, bouncing from one place to another. One was like a cave underground, with mushrooms and potato omelets, their specialty. Another place was all Bull-fighting with some pretty graphic photos covering the wall. Two of our escorts were giving Chris an inordinate amount of attention, not too surprising since she looked damn fine in her dress, and was the only woman in our group. I realized I’d never seen Chris dressed up before, and she cleaned up nicely. The outfit was a lot dressier than anything she’d wear at home, but she had explained that women dressing to impress was much more acceptable in Europe, southern Europe in particular. The Spanish appeared to be very touchy-feely people, and it seemed someone always had a hand on her, on her arm, her shoulder, her waist, the small of her back. There was a lot of bare flesh showing, and it was often the target of the touching. I was feeling a little lonely for my friends at home.
The night was capped off with dinner at El Botin, possibly Madrid’s most famous restaurant, one of Hemingway’s haunts, and considered by some to be the longest continual restaurant. Goya, we were told, worked there as a busboy.
We caught a lot of grief from our hosts for not having the forethought to make an extended visit out of our trip, and Chris found herself promising that when it came time for product test and installation, we’d make an event out of it, staying at least a week and the weekend. It was the only way we were getting back to our hotel before midnight, and we had a 7:50 am flight, which we continually reminded our generous hosts.
Chris and I said goodbye to our new friends at around 11:00 pm, with kisses (for Chris) and hugs all around. Feeling more than a little tipsy, I checked in at the desk for my room.
Chalk it up to international ignorance. They gave away my room at 10:00 pm when I didn’t check in at 3:00, or call in. I argued for a bit, but was assured that nothing was available. The hostess was able to get on the phone and find me a room not too far away.
**Author’s Note:**
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