I was scrambling to get everything ready for my first business travel meeting. Although I probably know the most about this particular prospect, I realized I wasn’t too confident on my presentation. I’d need some help from a guy I slept with a couple of months ago. Not at all uncomfortable.

And while I was running around at work and at home for a trip with a few days notice, my boyfriend was unavailable. I didn’t have a lot of time, but I thought I could see him on the weekend before I jetted off for jolly old England. Sadly, he had a previous engagement. A business golf tournament out-of-town.

I had to settle for Jemma. As if the words ‘settle for Jemma’ even makes sense. She was very supportive and made sure I had all my material I’d need. Christine even joked that Jemma seemed to be my personal assistant rather than hers. She also wished me luck. And I’d need it because…

Enrique had to be brought up on what had been happening recently. He was familiar with the project and had numerous contacts within their organization. He was the second most knowledgable person with their regards. He even helped me fill in the blanks. It was a bit weird having him sit in my empty office discussing our quickly approaching trip. Both him and Jemma came in on the weekend to make sure everything was the best it could be for presentation. I was impressed by Enrique’s professionalism. Jemma never ceases to amaze me.

I think we left around midnight. Alicia insisted on seeing me off. She was quite impressed by my travelling companion. She teased me endlessly in mime. If she only knew the truth. I had begun to see Enrique in a different light in the last few days. Less as a Giglio and more as a pretty competent salesperson. But there was a weird vibe as well. He treated my politely and with respect, but I sensed a cool detachment. I mean I didn’t when we got on the plane, but rather in retrospect—in spite of everything that happened.

The plan was simple. Take red-eye over the London, prep, rest and then meet the negotiators from our prospect for dinner. I wanted to get some sleep on the flight over. It would just be easier if I was sitting next to him for about five hours. And speaking of Enrique he quickly disappeared and then reappeared in some pants, which might have been mistaken for pyjamas and a t-shirt. Him dressed for bed was not going to make sitting next to him for the flight any easier. It did not help that he had lost exactly zero of his underwear appeal.

And speaking of sitting next to him…hello First Class, where have you been all my life. Sitting in my stretchy dress, more on that later, and receiving complimentary champagne while an attendant shows you how to turn your chair into a bed. Sigh, I love my job. I didn’t really understand why stylish Enrique had basically put on loungewear for the flight. But by the time we got off at Heathrow, I understood. But first, I spent most of the time after the sparking wine asleep. And even in my sleep I couldn’t avoid the hot manager sitting next to me.

I fell asleep in the darkness of the cabin. I ‘woke’ up and heard an announcement that the plane had been redirected to Spain. Enrique in board short, sandals and a Hawaiian shirt told me not to panic, he spoke Spanish. I was admonishing him about our meeting with the prospect. He said it would be no problem. He’d invited them to this great bar on the beach and we’d go from there. I was hysterical about meeting at a beach bar and how he was dressed. He said it would be more relaxed and before I could counter we were being escorted off the plane.

That was when I realized I was wearing a white bikini with a little wrap around my waist. I totally did not panic for the grown up equivalent of being in school in your underwear. OK, I totally did. And as we left the plane, the sun was blinding. I had to pull my sunglasses down off my hair as we descended the stairs right onto a sandy beach.

We walked over to a bar just like Enrique had described where we met an attractive European couple dressed not unlike us. She was dark-haired and he was fair-haired. He was wearing a short-sleeved sports shirt and shorts similar to my companion’s. She was wearing a red swimsuit, very tiny. Made me feel very self-conscious. Her fair-haired companion pointing out my boobs were bigger than hers didn’t help the feeling—and was quite rude to his beautiful associate.

They ordered wine and as I tried to talk to them about our proposal they instead wanted to dance. I started out with Enrique then the forgettable attractive guy and finally with the woman whose hair colour was noticeably lighter. It was very frustrating, on many levels.

The mysterious girl said, we could do a deal, but we’d have to trade partners. I was so mad at her, like volcano erupting angry! She said she couldn’t wait to take Enrique home. I told her it aint gonna happen, the only one going home with him is me. And then she looked at me with this fierce gaze. There was a hint of mirth. I wasn’t sure if she was going to hit me or kiss…

And then the announcement to put on our seatbelts as we approached our landing woke me up. Enrique was gone. I realized when he got back he was changing. And on his arrival back at our seats I realized my stretchy dress had stretched up. No Sharon Stone impersonations here, I had worn underwear for the flight. I just wonder if Enrique or an attendant had seen a bit more than they should have. Maybe I was tired, but I just didn’t care. I mean I don’t want it to happen again, but…

The cab ride over to our hotel was eerily quiet. That was accentuated by my weird dream, which I wanted to forget, but couldn’t as he sat beside me. When we arrived at the front desk Enrique felt with everything while I sat in a chair. I was totally good with that until he came towards me wheeling his carry on and sporting a sad face. I asked what was wrong. He said they screwed up our reservation and instead of getting us two rooms with double beds, they had accidentally gotten us a single room with a double bed.

I can’t imagine what my face looked like at that moment. His face erupted in laughter as he handed me one of two key cards. I was very unhappy, but for mixed reasons. I snatched my card and we made our way up to our rooms. He said we should freshen up and then meet downstairs in the lobby. I was good with that.

I tried not to spend too much time in the shower, my thoughts were still lingering on my strange dream. I dried off and put on an identical dress to the one I had recently taken off. Five minute hair, five minutes—OK, I knew I was meeting him in the lobby so I spent 10 minutes on my make up.

The Tomboy in me was disappointed I wasn’t the first one down to the lobby. The new fashionista me was very impressed that he did. I wasn’t sure what time it was locally so agreed to coffee. The food I expected, the wine not so much.

I was kind of scared to be alone with him. Not that I thought he’d do anything to me. I knew he wouldn’t do anything to me, that I didn’t want. I realized that despite all that I had: good job, great guy; that I didn’t really trust myself. I wondered how much of my discomfort about this trip was really about the pitch and how much was about being with him unchaperoned the whole time.

He opened the small talk. He was a master of it. He could talk and get you engaged and pass an hour or two then realized you hadn’t really talked about anything. He wasn’t boastful or secretive. He had funny anecdotes of previous trips and negotiations. They were light-hearted and funny. They were clearly meant to make me feel at ease, even confident.

But there was that dangerous charm again. I don’t know if he even knew he was doing it. Wait, of course he did, it shone from his eyes. No, I think he just couldn’t turn it off. It was part of him. It’s what made it so hard to be around him, the idea that at any moment he’d ask me back to his room. The idea that I’m not sure I could say no—that even if I did, I didn’t want to.

He never once asked my about my romantic life. I was grateful of that. But he didn’t volunteer anything of his. I should have been happy at this as well, but a part of me really wanted to know what or who he was doing. Partly for he gossip, but I just wanted to know. I was too scared to ask though. I guess some boxes are best left unopened.

And after sharing some appetizers, a bottle of wine and two hours I felt relaxed around him. He reminded me we had a dinner and should go change. He said he’d pick me up outside my door. There was no need to bring anything to the dinner. I had a minor panic.

Joke was on Enrique, I wasn’t changing but just accessorizing. He picked me up as promised, outside my door. He had magically changed into something that I believe the technical term for would be business  HOT! When we got to the restaurant I found that my dream had set up false expectations.

While there were two of them, neither was female nor all that attractive. Not that I’m shallow, just expectations and all. There was a minor(major) panic due to business cards being exchanged. And namely the fact I had none, none with my current position on them. Enrique wrote my contact info on his own card for each of them. On the flip side they were very easy to talk with and very focussed—on me. Enrique did a great job on getting them back on track. We had more small talk and agreed to meet at in a room at their hotel, bright and early the next day.

A late night and still suffering from jet lag meant for a rude awakening, literally. We met with our prospects and spent the whole day discussion, negotiating and making proposals. It was a very long day and I wished I’d had more time to prepare for it. Enrique informed me on the way back to our hotel that it went pretty well. It was just a social after all. Now I was worried. We stood outside my door talking. He said that the prospects liked us and that was one of the most important things in negotiating.

It was my guilt that allowed me to slip into my room and leave from on the wrong side of the door. There was something that grew on me the more I was around Enrique. And no matter what the warnings, he did appear to be boyfriend material. The problem was I already had a boyfriend. Both were good dinner dates. Both were good in bed. Todd was very physically active, but Enrique could make hours disappear in easy and fun conversation. I really needed to go to bed—alone—and get a good night’s sleep.

Morning came too soon, or more likely I couldn’t get much sleep. Too much worrying. But at least when Enrique called my room, I was ready. The first thing he said was such a different look with the same dress. I didn’t know if I should have been upset or felt complimented. It was when I started to pay attention to his wardrobe with more attention. He had brought a small case than me—and brought it as carry on.

A continental breakfast and a cab ride over to their hotel. I was looking outside and only partially paying attention to Enrique’s sweet voice. There were joggers and people making their way to work. London looked foreign yet familiar at the same time. My companion noted from our conversation yesterday that I had never been to London before. Truth be told, I’d only actually been to Canada and Mexico outside of the States. I hadn’t volunteered that information to a guy who was Spanish and probably been to half the countries on the globe.

The meeting with our potential client was scheduled for four hours. It stretched to six before wine and some food appeared. At eight we decided to go grab some food at the hotel restaurant. We continued to discuss arrangements and proposals over dinner. We were so close to a deal, I could feel it. I had come into this meeting being a bit worried and now I wanted to close this deal.

Two hours back in their room and while an entertaining pair, we had nothing but a promise to contact us when we arrived back in New York. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions of a day. I had totally forgot we were supposed to fly back to New York THAT NIGHT! Apparently along with consoling me about not getting a deal, Enrique had pushed our return flight back 24 hours. And while I was down go coming home empty-handed, he seemed quite happy with how things were going.

We detoured to the lobby bar, I felt safer there than in one of our rooms. And over a night-cap Enrique told me he never expected to sign this client—now or possibly ever. He was very happy with what transpired and said they had never negotiated so long or shown interest in an immediate follow-up. He thought me might have a chance at signing them. He also gave a lot of the credit to me. He told me charm might get you in the door, but hardworking and numbers get signatures. This ridiculously good-looking guy thought I was smart and that was very dangerous after a couple of drinks.

He told me tales of growing up in Spain and how I should go on the way up to our rooms. He lingered outside my door. It took all I had to not kiss him. Thank God he didn’t kiss me. I went to bed a second night in a foreign place conflicted and upset, but this time I slept like a baby.

I was awoken by Enrique’s phone call. Apparently without an itinerary I’d just sleep in. He asked if I was dressed yet. A million things went through my mind as to what that question could mean. When I said truthfully no, he said to put on something comfortable. I had packed for a day and a half and now I was making my way to a third day. At the insistence of Jemma I had packed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. At the time I thought it a waste of space since I had a day and a half of meetings and I would never wear it to said meetings. And now I had a day to wear it. I had to reuse a bar, but no one would be the wiser. I found my most comfortable shoes remembering what Enrique had said.

I heard the knock on my door, he must have known I had just finished getting ready. Sigh, he looked casual GQ as I opened the door. I don’t think the boy had met a piece of clothing that didn’t look good on him. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Apparently first on the list was breakfast. I wasn’t sure what today was about since the prospect was leaving back for Germany today. Apparently today had nothing to do with business. Enrique informed me that since I had never been to London and all I had seen was two hotels and he inside of a cab, he would give me a one day tour of London—on the company tab.

He took me by the hand and we got on this bus which took us all over London. It was very touristy, but very fun. We went into Madame Tussaud’s where I saw my bosses’ friend Eva Wilder immortalized in wax. Enrique joked that the dress was too long, which was both funny and true. We hopped back on the bus and got off at Piccadilly Circus. I found all the shops fascinating. Enrique pointed out a statue which he said was the Roman god Eros. The plaque said it was a memorial to Shaftesbury. It did look like Eros though. I might have picked up some accessories.

Enrique refused to get off at Trafalgar Square because of national pride. We did get off by the Millenium Wheel. Enrique got us a champagne 30 minute view of London. It was amazing. He was amazing doing this for me.

He apologized that we wouldn’t have time to do the Tower since it was practically a whole day event—half of which was waiting in line to get in. Later when I saw the line ups I realized he wasn’t really joking. Instead he took me to the London Dungeon. The Dungeon was like the macabre part of the wax museum. No that’s not true it was like an expanded haunted house turned to 11. It was equal parts creepy and kitschy.

After that we hopped back on the bus for a while Enrique grabbed me to show me St. Paul’s Cathedral. I’ve never been in an old world cathedral. It was awe-inspiring. I think I was also a bit overwhelmed by it. Enrique seemed to enjoy a place he’d been before vicariously through me.

We ended up at Tower Bridge looking down the Thames. It was later afternoon, bordering on evening. I was tired, but very thankful Enrique had taken the extra day to show me around. It was very sweet of him. He said here was one last thing we needed to see, which I protested. He insisted and we ended up at a local pub not far from our hotel.

I was starving having grabbed a Diet Coke and some ‘crisps’ instead of eating lunch. He insisted we share the beef dip, but got our own pints of beer. I had been in places meant to look like English pubs, but it wasn’t the decor, it was the people. I hastily ate my large half portion, which in hindsight might not have been too lady-like. No one seemed to think it too odd. The mix of people was what really fascinated me. Enrique said it was locality and history that mattered, not trendiness. It was also odd that he of all people seemed very comfortable in a noisy working class bar.

After a second pint we walked back to the hotel. I’d forgotten we still had a flight to catch in a few hours. We made our way up to the rooms one last time to freshen up before leaving. He lingered at my door again. He had been so nice to me, taking a day to show me around and give me an experience. He was also so Goddamn handsome. I guess I just ran out of willpower.

I kissed him. It wasn’t a quick kiss. It was a slow lingering one where arms wrapped around each other. If I want to be totally honest we were making out in the hallways an ocean away from home. I’d have liked to blame it on the location, the events or even the beer, but I knew none of those things were to blame. I had never got over my obsession with him, not even after sleeping with him.

After an indeterminate amount of minutes I came to me senses. I dove into my room without saying a word. I felt so guilty. I had done such a good job of keeping things so professional, but now I’d crossed a line—probably a few.

From the time we checked out of the hotel, to boarding he plane—even hailing a cab back in NY, I said no more than handful of words. I was wracked with fear, uncertainty and guilt. I checked my phone for texts. There were a few, but none from Todd. I texted him to tell him I was back. The guilt was eating me. I noticed Amber had said she would be in town and asking to crash at my place. I said yes. I needed support, maybe advice. Nothing from Todd.

I took the next day off. I called Todd, but got voice mail. I felt he was punishing me, even though he knew nothing about my betrayal. When I went back to work Christie and Nico came into my office and congratulated me. I was a bit surprised since I didn’t feel I had accomplished anything. They said the potential client would be in Manhattan next week to further negotiations. They said I had done well.

I didn’t feel like I had done well. I spent the next day hiding in my office online shopping and waiting for Todd to contact me. Jemma finally grabbed me and forced me out to some new foody place. She asked what was wrong and over wine I confessed all of what had happened on Enrique and I’s extra day. Jemma didn’t scold me, but she didn’t laugh it off either. The one question she did ask with absolute sincerity was, “how serious are you and Todd?”

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