Two Conversations

The restaurant was immaculate. Polished wood, fine porcelain, crystal glasses. Subdued lighting, music that didn't want to disturb.

Marie took a seat. The incident in the dressing room had made her forget that she was hungry. Only after a few minutes did she notice that her stomach was rumbling again, as if it had hesitated because it was afraid of her anger.

The bodyguard took a seat opposite her. He observed the room, but not in an alarmed way. It was as if vigilance was his default state.

The waiter addressed him as a matter of course, as if his two female companions were nothing more than decoration.

After ordering, the bodyguard explained, almost apologetically, "Women are not allowed to dine alone. I hope you like what I've ordered.“

”I like surprises,“ Marie replied honestly, because the surprise consisted mostly of his open, friendly manner and pleasant voice. Given his martial appearance so far, she had expected a gruff Rambo type.

He extended his hand. “Steve.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Steve spoke calmly and clearly, showing a natural interest. He asked Marie where she came from and what she had been doing so far. He listened. He didn't interrupt. He made no insinuations, no judgments. For a moment, Marie forgot which country she was in. If she were to meet him on a date in Germany, it could lead to something more, she thought.

The food tasted excellent. She ate slowly to calm herself. The tension eased a little, without disappearing completely. Soraya and she were served wine. Steve drank water.

“You're not what people here expect from a woman,” he said at some point.

Marie raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What do you expect from me?”

Steve smiled slightly and left the remark hanging in the air.

After dinner, he led them outside to a limousine.

The office of the American chief negotiator was large, cool, and unpleasantly austere. Glass and steel dominated. An oversized flag covered almost the entire back wall. Mr. Jenkins did not stand up when Marie entered. His gaze was scrutinizing, calculating.

“Marie Lehnert,” he said. No greeting. He read from the monitor embedded in his desk: “Master's degree in political science, specializing in European security. Thesis on gender and law. First professional experience at the State Department. Currently a consultant to the European Union as an advisor on cultural and humanitarian issues.”

He looked up, assessing her. “Explain to me how someone with this profile is only traveling with a delegation as a minor protocol officer.”

His tone was brusque, almost mocking. Marie thought she recognized that it was insecurity masquerading as superiority.

At the same time, she felt queasy. Was he asking this question because he suspected her to be smuggled in as a spy? Or was he afraid that she would act as an agitator to incite American women?

Marie held his gaze and hoped that her nervousness was not apparent. She thought carefully before answering.

“The EU has assembled a high-level delegation of highly qualified specialists to reflect the importance of these talks. I am here to learn from them.”

A short, dry laugh. “Obviously.”

She let a second pass. “Well, you also have women on your team. Soraya, for example.”

Jenkins' expression barely changed. Only the corner of his mouth twitched upward. His eyes flickered to the black-haired beauty before returning to Marie.

“Soraya,” he said slowly, with a strange emphasis, “has other responsibilities.”

“May I ask what they are?”

He smiled, but it didn't look friendly. “Responsibilities that are suitable for women.”

No further explanation. Marie didn't dare to ask. She was unsettled and understood that this was exactly what Jenkins wanted to achieve.

He leaned back, placing the tips of both hands together.

“You are tolerated here as an exception, Ms. Lehnert, because your government insisted on it. Don't confuse that with acceptance. You must learn your place in society.”

Marie responded disarmingly: “I have every intention of doing so.”

A moment of silence. Jenkins looked her over carefully, as if assessing how dangerous it would be to let her go.

Then he turned away. “That’s all.”