Previously in Part 1: Benjamin is an international security expert on his way to a cybersecurity conference in Paris. On the plane, he meets the cute flight attendant Angelica. They spend an evening together in her hotel room. He also sits next to a Muslim woman, Yasmine, on the flight. It turns out that she is a participant in the conference. Benjamin and Yasmine start a relationship on the first night of the conference. It turns out that she has two sides, the public, Muslim side, and a more liberated private side at home.
The conference had started well. The participants are content and the discussions on cybersecurity were numerous and useful, if not vital. Most organizations have a long way to go to achieve acceptable security, and the public sector is the worst. All the things that must function as usual even in a crisis. That said, the situation in the private sector is not unproblematic. Too many companies are affected by various security attacks. Completely unnecessarily. And when they are hit, major security gaps are discovered when it comes to restoring systems to a flawless state, without losing valuable information.
My speech the day before had resulted in several discussions, I realized, when I came down for breakfast the next day. People asked where I had gone, they had wanted to continue the discussions. I answered somewhat evasively about where I had been. I couldn't tell them that I had met the woman of my dreams. They had to believe that I had some more secret consultation, and so it was, even if it was not at all about cyber security.
I saw Yasmine from time to time in the crowd in the morning, often standing alone in the break or attending one of the many sessions going on. She eagerly took notes and was active in the Q&A sessions. She asked many very insightful and good questions. A woman who was not only a dream for a man but also a dream for the security world. I also noticed that she moved a bit stiffly when she walked. A bit sore in some parts, I thought.
During the lunch break, I was engaged by some old acquaintances from South Korea. The discussions were intense, but I managed to send a text to Yasmine, asking if she wanted to have dinner with me. She replied after twenty minutes; she would like to have dinner, but not close to the hotel. Where could we meet?
'See you at the steps of the opera house. Take a taxi there. Is seven o'clock okay?" I write back.
"Fine. Clothes?"
"Smart casual, does that work for you?"
"OK, kiss," she replies.
I wonder if she will be wearing a hijab or not. She is careful with her clothing, at least in public. In private she throws off the more covering garments, if not all garments.
In the afternoon, I have a couple of meetings scheduled. On two occasions I was invited to dinner but declined both times. I had another important meeting in the evening, I say, which wouldn't be surprising; my working day rarely ends until late.
I reached the stairs in plenty of time, then stood and looked out over the trafic. Traffic is as usual intense around the Place de l'Opera. After a while, a taxi stops, and Yasmine gets out. She looks fantastic, no headscarf, a nice pair of trousers and a top, which accentuates her female form. In her hand she holds both the headscarf and a dark tunic. She must have taken them off in the car. I move up to her and give her a hug. She melts into my arms. She raises her head, her mouth, wants to be kissed. We maintain the kiss a little longer than usual, but it's Paris after all. No one raises an eyebrow.
Hand in hand we walk down Avenue de l'Opera to Rue des Pyramides and through Jardin des Tuileries and then Pont Royal to Rue du Bac. A funny little old street, mentioned during the French Revolution. We stop and peek into an antique shop. It is closed, but always fun to try to see something in the window. Then on to Boulevard Saint-Germain. A rather boring street, at least this stretch, I've walked it lots of times. The street has, however, never been as pleasant as today. We walk and hold hands, talk about everything. Sometimes I get a little extra pressure in my hand from Yasmine. I look at her, she looks up at me. Her eyes sparkle. We stop and kiss each other. There were several kisses during our walk to Rue de Dragon. I had booked a table at a small French restaurant, which I knew from before. Almost only local regulars, who tend to be there.
The restaurant is a narrow room with tables close to each other. The atmosphere is pleasant and inviting. It looks like it is full, but there is one small table left, the one I booked. The noise level is loud, but not so noisy that we can't talk and hear what we're saying, but loud enough that the neighbors can't hear.
The waiter who meets us at the door greets us like old regulars, making us feel part of all the other guests. Familiar but still professional. Our table is in a corner, and we sit at a ninety degree angle to each other. Nice and intimate.
During the walk we have discussed the different sessions of the day and what Yasmine thinks about the conference. Now that we are seated, the conversation turns to ourselves.
"It seems like you've been here before. Nice place, would never have found it if you didn't bring me here."
"I've been here several times. Got the recommendation from a person who lived nearby. They seem to recognize me, but it's an attitude, but nice, feels welcoming."
"Yes, really. I've never been to a restaurant like this before. Everyone seems really nice."
"Once when I was here. Sitting alone at a table, the couple at the next table started talking to me. They lived a short distance away. Afterwards, I was invited to their home. They had invited some other friends as well. It was a memorable evening."
"But weren't you apprehensive? To go home to complete strangers like that! It could have been anything."
"Well, I was on edge. A little cautiously worried. As a security expert, it's probably not something to recommend. But I took the chance, and it was nice, once I relaxed my unease."
"Exciting, and fantastic to be invited so spontaneously. And accept!"
"Let's order. They have great meat. Not much else. The meat is accompanied by French fries. You can choose the sauce. Hot cream, a cream sauce with herbs and then there's a yellowish sauce, I don't know what's in it, but it's amazingly good, a treat. Do you want us to order a bottle of wine? Is that okay with you?"
"I'll have that sauce and wine, please. Today, here, I want to be a normal woman on a date with my boyfriend."
I order. The wine and a bottle of water come in along with a basket of bread slices and some butter. We pour the wine and water and dig into the bread.
"Well, cheers. So nice to show my girlfriend this place. Cheers, darling," I say, looking into her eyes. Her eyes are like two black wells. Every time I look her in the eyes, it's like I'm drowning. When I put my glass down, I turn around and look out over the room. There, at a table some distance away, sits the couple I was just talking about. They notice that I have spotted them and wave. I wave back.
"The people I was just talking about, the ones who invited me, are sitting a bit away. Like I said, this is a regular place for the people who live around here. If they come over and invite us, would you like to come along?"
"With you, I'd like to go. I feel safe with you. You make me feel warm and safe. Never felt that way before with any man."
"You also make me feel warm and you, what can I say? You trigger a kind of protective feeling in me. I know that you are fully capable of taking care of yourself. You are a strong and capable woman. I don't understand what's happening. But I want to be with you. Not just have you, want to be with you, have you close," I say, not understanding what is happening, what I am saying.
