The Night I Introduced My Friend to My Client

My name is Marcos and I live in Barcelona. I work as a private bodyguard, which sounds more glamorous than it is: long hours of waiting, a lot of silence, and very few real friends. One of those few friendships is Carla. She’s intelligent, funny, with a dark, sarcastic sense of humor that very few people know how to understand, and a blunt honesty that can be uncomfortable at times. When I met her, the way she was completely disarmed me.

I’m not ashamed to admit that for a long time I was interested in her in another way. But time passed, that feeling turned into enormous affection, and we learned to care about each other without expecting anything more. She lives far away, in another city, tied to a family that needs her, so we went long stretches without speaking. It didn’t matter: whenever we picked up the conversation again, it was as if we had never stopped.

For years I invited her to come see me, and for years she told me she couldn’t. So when one day she suddenly wrote to tell me she had two days off, my heart did a somersault. At last I was going to be able to hug her. And, of course, just that night I had a work dinner with Viktor, a businessman I had been working for years and couldn’t stand up.

I didn’t want to give up either plan, so I combined them. I texted her.

—I’m absolutely thrilled you’re coming. But I have a work dinner at a luxury hotel. If you get in on time, pack an evening dress in your suitcase.

—The one day we’re seeing each other, and you’re going to use me to make yourself look good? —she replied, and I could almost hear her laugh.

—You’re going to have a great time, the restaurant is incredible. What time do you arrive?

—At Sants around twelve. And I’m leaving at eight the next day, from the same station.

—Perfect, I’ll pick you up.

Then I called Viktor to let him know there would be three of us, because I had a visit from a good friend and I wasn’t going to leave her alone in the city. He agreed without a single objection.

I prepared the apartment to receive her. I’ve never been messy, but the guest rooms had been a little neglected, so I changed the sheets, aired them out, and left clean towels. I wanted her to be comfortable, as if it were her own home.

The day came and I was more nervous than I wanted to admit. I got to the station at eleven-thirty, because I always like to arrive early. The train was delayed, of course, but at one o’clock sharp I saw her come out through the door. She looked amazing. Her dark brown hair brushed her shoulders, she was wearing a sweater, jeans, and trainers, and she was pulling a small suitcase. I stood up, met her face to face, and gave her a long hug and two kisses.

On the way to the car we were ranting about the chaos of the trains and, in passing, about the entire country. I kept repeating how happy I was to have her there. I had booked a place famous for its fried eggs with ham, and since we had a table we didn’t wait at all. We ate while talking about our favorite subject, politics and society, coolly pointing out every problem around us. We lingered over coffee until we decided to go back to the flat.

I offered her the two guest rooms and she chose one at random. I put her suitcase on the bed.

—You’re at home here, do whatever you want —I said—. We have the dinner I told you about tonight, but there’s plenty of time. Make yourself comfortable.

I took off my shoes and dropped onto the sofa. A little later she appeared in a gray pajama set and socks, sat down beside me, and we put on a film we didn’t watch, because we kept the conversation going from where we had left off. I enjoyed her company like few other things: her sharp way of touching on every topic, her clear ideas, her well-formed opinions. Time slipped through our fingers and suddenly it was time to get ready.

—You have a bathroom in your room, if you want to shower —I told her—. I’m going to change.

—See you in a bit.

I showered, put on cologne, and wrestled for quite a while with my long, curly hair. I put on a tailored black suit, a black silk shirt, and a wine-colored tie. Before leaving, I went into the office, opened the safe, and took out my pistol; I placed it in its holster on the right side of my trousers. Once I was ready, I stood in the living room waiting for her.

When she appeared in the hallway, I was speechless. Her hair was perfectly styled, her face natural and bare, not a trace of makeup, small elegant silver earrings. She was wearing a plain black dress that hugged her figure and fell just above the knee, standing out against her white skin. A long silver pendant broke up the black, and closed high heels completed the outfit. She was as elegant as she was sensual. I stood there, dazed, staring at her.

—Your eyes are going to fall out —she said, laughing.

—Come on, let’s go.

We arrived at a hotel that overflowed with luxury in every corner. We went straight to the restaurant and were greeted by the maître d’.

—Good evening, I’m Marcos and this is my companion. We have a table with Mr. Viktor.

—Of course, this way please.

He led us to a private room with a huge table, pulled out our chairs, and left, saying Mr. Viktor was on his way. We ordered drinks and ended up quietly laughing about the people we had crossed paths with in the lobby. A little later, the waiter brought, in addition, two bottles of reserve Cabernet that Viktor had selected in advance.

—Good evening, sorry I’m late —Viktor said as he came in—. A video conference ran long.

—No problem, we were fine. Let me introduce you to Carla, a good friend who’s visiting.

—Nice to meet you.

—The pleasure is mine.

Viktor took her hand and pressed a delicate kiss to her knuckles. We sat down and he started talking to me about work: he was planning to expand his company into mining operations in Africa and needed a bodyguard service. We discussed details, difficulties, figures. He brought Carla into the conversation whenever he could, asking for her opinion, and she answered confidently, always with a sarcastic edge and sometimes a bit sharply, as she tends to be.

When we were done with business, the conversation loosened up. Carla opened up, speaking freely and answering him boldly. And then I realized that Viktor was looking at her too much. It was normal; she was gorgeous. What I hadn’t expected was for her to look back at him with the same intensity. I admit the situation delighted me. Viktor, despite his fortune, was a simple, handsome man, with light brown hair combed back, deep blue eyes, and an Italian suit that fit him like a glove.

Once dinner was over, we moved to the hotel bar for a nightcap. Seeing how they were seeking each other out, I made up an excuse to leave them alone.

—Guys, I’m going to see if I can get a couple of rooms for tonight.

—That would be perfect —said Viktor.

—Whatever you want —she added.

I walked off toward reception and kept myself busy chatting with the receptionist. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them seated in two facing armchairs, laughing, their legs crossed. At one point his shoe brushed against hers, neither of them moved away, and shortly after that they moved to the double sofa.

***

What happened upstairs I know because Carla told me the next day, with that frankness of hers that knows nothing of shame. And, I confess, she told me every last detail.

On the sofa, while they were talking, she rested her hand on his thigh and he pretended not to react, though inside he was burning. Out of nowhere, Viktor suddenly said:

—Do you know I’ve been dying to kiss you for a while now?

—Then do it —she replied.

He leaned in, put his hand on her knee, and brushed his lips against hers, first barely, then in a deep kiss where their tongues searched for each other. He suggested they continue in his suite and she simply said yes. Before going up, she texted me: “I’m going up to Viktor’s room. If you want, go home.” I didn’t leave.

In the elevator he put his arm around her waist. The suite was enormous. Carla wandered around it curiously while Viktor took off his jacket, his tie, and opened the collar of his shirt. She ended up lying back on the huge bed, with her feet and heels hanging over the edge, staring at the ceiling.

He came over slowly, took off her shoes, and held her feet in his hands. He kissed them with a tenderness she hadn’t expected: her toes, her arches, moving up her legs until he found her mouth again and kissed her hungrily. He stroked her over the dress while she ran her hands over his shoulders and arms.

Viktor sat up to take off his shirt. His chest was tanned, his muscles defined, his arms strong. He stripped off his trousers too and was left in his underwear, with a visible erection pressed against the fabric. She, playful as ever, lifted one foot and rubbed the bulge with the sole of her foot, laughing while she looked him straight in the eyes. He caught her foot, kissed it, and gently moved it aside, spreading her legs.

He got between them and began moving up her thighs with kisses until he reached her underwear, which he kissed through the fabric. He helped her sit up to take off the dress, and she was left lying there in only black lingerie. He fell onto her mouth again. He unhooked her bra and uncovered small breasts with pink nipples, which he caressed with his lips and tongue until he felt them harden. He worked his way down kissing her stomach and slowly slid her panties down her legs. Her pubic area was shaved, smooth, burning hot.

He undressed too and positioned himself between her legs. He ran his tongue between her lips, slowly, searching for her clitoris, licking unhurriedly while she moved her hips and stroked his nipples, getting more and more turned on. Then he rose onto his knees, held himself with one hand, and rubbed the tip against her clit until she, no longer able to stand it, asked him to fuck her.

He entered her slowly. Carla felt him opening her little by little, each thrust stimulating her from within, her breathing turning into moans. He sped up, lay down on top of her kissing her mouth and her breasts, and she grabbed his head tightly to kiss him while he kept moving. Then he stood beside the bed, pulled her toward him by the hips, and fucked her harder, his body responding to every удар. She came in a long moan.

But it didn’t end there. He turned her face down, ran his tongue along her back following her spine, and entered her from behind again. Carla heard the slap of his hips against her, both of them on the brink, until they came almost at the same time and collapsed there, exhausted, looking at each other.

***

What I did live through was the wait downstairs in the lobby, pretending it wasn’t affecting me. When she called me, already in the early hours of the morning, it was to tell me that Viktor had to catch a flight in a couple of hours, that he hadn’t expected any of that to happen, but that he wanted to see her again. Carla got dressed, gave him one last long kiss, and came back down with me.

I was waiting for her at the hotel entrance. We got into the car.

—How was the night? —I asked, as if I didn’t know the answer.

—Very good. Very good —she said, with a smile I had never seen before.

—I’m glad to see you happy.

And it was true, though not entirely. We went back to the flat, she went into her room and I into mine. After showering, I lay on my bed thinking about how jealous Viktor made me and how beautiful Carla had looked that night. The next morning we had breakfast together, laughing about the absurd luxury of the hotel. Then I took her out to eat something and accompanied her to the train. I gave her a long hug, two kisses, and waited beside her until she got on. I said goodbye to her with a sorrow I still don’t know if it was only that of a friend.