The Open Secret

9

One frigid February morning, he is running through his event invitations with his aide on his way to a meeting when she mentions one in particular that makes him perk up.

"Oh, and one last thing. You got invited to speak on a panel at a conference on climate change in Paris at the end of the month. They want you to talk about our new carbon emissions cap and balancing economic interests against emissions reduction. It looks like it'll be with other lawmakers from the EU. They'll provide your registration and hotel. The conference lasts three days if you want to attend the rest of it too."

Tapping away on his phone as he is, Rob only glances over at her long enough to ask, "Anyone else from the Kamer going?"

"Uh, yes. Jesse Klaver from GreenLeft. They said in their email that they wanted to make sure they invited his 'other half.'"

His heart shoots into his throat, but he's grown adept since they started at not showing any sort of outward reaction to Jesse's name when it comes up in conversation, so he doesn't flinch, just continues striding down the hallway.

"Hilarious," he deadpans. "I'll do it. Can you book me a train?"

On the first day of the conference, he settles himself into a seat at a session on pollution abatement measures for the agricultural sector, and it isn't long until he notices a familiar silhouette slip into the chair beside him out of the corner of his eye. They don't greet each other or say anything at all, even though he can feel every hair on his body stand at attention, in the way they would right before a lightning strike. The hold Jesse has on him has never seemed to grow any weaker; if anything, over the past five months, it's only strengthened its vice grip.

He pulls out his phone in an attempt to distract himself. Then, he sees movement in his peripheral vision again: Jesse shifting in his seat and withdrawing something from his suit jacket, then sliding it across the table toward him without a word.

A hotel room key card.

He feels his pulse quicken at the invitation, but it isn't an invitation at all. His acceptance is a forgone conclusion. They both know it's the reason he came here.

Without looking at him, he takes it and slides it into his pocket.

-

The day drags on interminably, but their panel goes over well. They sit beside each other and laugh along with the crowd at a good-natured joke from the moderator, who introduces them as 'the environmental lovebirds from the Netherlands.' He can't deny he gets a wicked thrill from it all, hiding in plain sight.

If only they knew.

They part ways after that, and at the end of the day, he makes his way to the hotel with his luggage, which is a brief walk from the convention center. It's been a while since he was last in Paris, but he doesn't so much as pause to take the city in, his eyes locked in tunnel vision and his entire body pulsing with one singular beat. He checks into his room at the front desk to avoid suspicion but goes straight to Jesse's instead, swiping the keycard and pulling open the door.

The room is adequate, with a neatly-made king bed and a window that overlooks a street. There are blue velvet curtains on either side of that window that he knows will be necessary to draw soon enough. There's a mirror placed directly opposite the bed as well, which seems like quite a French thing to do, and he makes a mental note to take advantage of that later too. It's nothing grand, but it will serve their purpose just fine.

As far as he's concerned, it might as well be heaven on earth.

He hears the hissing of the shower in the bathroom, followed by Jesse's voice calling out, "Who is it?"