At two p.m. on the dot, Adam arrived at the Senator’s office. He took a deep breath as he crossed the threshold of the open door.

“Hello,” the gentleman behind the desk said as he stepped into the room. “May I help you?”

Adam bent down and stuck his hand out. “Adam Klein. I’m from the Canadian emissary’s office.”

The gentleman looked at his hand before he looked back up at him. “Oh good, you’re early.”

Adam detected a hint of sarcasm from the receptionist, but checked his watch, and nodded. “Should I leave and come back in five minutes?”

An eyebrow raise. “No. Then you’d be late.”

There was an extended pause, which made Adam think he’d be willing to risk being late, if it meant less stress on the Senator’s staff. “It’s not a problem. I’ll just take a walk around the building and be back in time.”

Finally, just as he’d started to turn towards the door, the gentleman spoke. “No. That won’t be necessary. You can wait in the conference room, just down the hall, second door on the right. The Senator will meet you there.”

Adam nodded, and plastered on a smile. “No problem. Thanks for your time,” he said, and followed the receptionist’s directions. Of course, as he walked into the conference room, Adam couldn’t help but wonder what he was walking into, how a certain person would react.

When he saw the platter on the sideboard, he knew.

The display was artfully organized and…full of bagels. He hated bagels. It was a point of disappointment to his entire family, and one would say, the Ashkenazi community as a whole. Thought his aversion did make his job easier, as he had a legitimate reason to avoid discussions on the superiority of bagels produced in New York versus Montreal.

Much to his confusion, bagels had somehow become a comfort food for the rest of the world. What most people thought was a soft and easy to grab breakfast food was tactile torture for his tongue.

The lox and cream cheese were displayed in tandem at the center of the platter, almost as an affront. He reached for a spoon on the corner, resigned to eating the lox with silverware when he spied a small packet wrapped in wax paper.

He leaned down to investigate it and was overwhelmed by the strong scent of caraway seeds, and home. He ripped open the package and knew this was Tam. A small goodwill gesture that he didn’t deserve, but he was going to take anyway. He grabbed a piece of the thin-crusted bread and took a long sniff before he reached for the knife.

“The bagels aren’t authentic, even if they say they learned the art of bagel making from New York City.”

Adam found himself amused by the Senator’s comment and didn’t focus on having missed the man’s arrival. He didn’t bother to stop the laugh that started in his stomach and exploded through his mouth. “Good one,” he managed. “Even if they were, Senator, they’re not my style. Though I will say the lox smells authentic.”

Enrique Hernandez nodded and held out his hand. “I’d agree with you there. It reminds me of home. Mr. Klein, I presume?”

“Adam,” he replied. “My name is Adam, Senator.”

“Fair enough.” A smile.

Adam nodded. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“It remains to be seen whether this discussion will end up being in my best interests.”

“Yours, the state’s. At this point, I think they’d be the same.”

“To a degree, you’re right. But,” Hernandez gestured towards the conference room table. “Sit. We’ll talk. And I do have someone else I want to bring in to this meeting.”

“Oh?” Adam meant to sound as if it were like any other meeting, not like he was about to be confronted by the woman whose heart he carelessly broke.

But the expression on the Senator’s face looked as if he’d been presented with an unexpected surprise. “Yes, someone on my staff who might be better suited to judge your proposal. If they like what you have to say, I’ll talk to you.”

This wasn’t a shock. “If he doesn’t like it, you have every reason to throw me, and whatever proposal I have, out the window.”

“She,” the Senator countered, a smile across the man’s face. This time Adam was ready, or so he told himself, as the door to the conference room opened.

* * *

Tam stepped into the bathroom on the way to the meeting. She took a moment to adjust her hair, touch up her mascara. She straightened her skirt and sweater, and grabbed the large folder she’d placed on the counter. It contained packets of pages that outlined the importance of industry in upstate New York. She knew that Adam would be talking about something that was of importance to Canada, but not the specifics of that something. Which meant she had to be ready for anything.

Tam took one more glance in the mirror and squared her shoulders before leaving the ladies room. She could do this. It was just another day on the job.

She took a breath, pushed through the conference room door.

“Right on time,” the Senator said. “Thank you for joining us.” The Senator gestured toward the table, and she chose the seat closest to the door, and farthest from where Adam stood. “My Upstate expert, Tamara Schneider.”

“Good to see you, Tamara.”

Tam thought she’d adequately prepared herself for encounter. She’d even brought him fucking rye bread without the requisite clothespin for her nose. But the sound of his voice still jolted her, melting her insides when she was supposed to be an ice queen. Worst of all, that voice, along with his bright eyes and wide smile, stole the opening salvo she’d crafted in the car on the way to the bagel place.

She smiled at the Senator, before she faced Adam, façade patched up as best she could. Of course, the man was dressed in that perfect suit and tie. His dirty blonde hair was impeccable, just a few strands loose. She gave him the benefit of a polite, professional smile, as she clenched her folders. She wouldn’t give in to the impulse to put the strands of his hair back behind his ears. She wouldn’t.

“Adam Klein, the Canadian emissary.” The Senator’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Tam could see the understanding dawn in his eyes. His gaze traveled between her and Adam, not missing a thing. “But I’m guessing you know each other?”

Tam wondered if she or Adam would be responsible for answering the Senator’s question. But before she could decide for certain, Adam jumped in.

“We do, sir…Senator.”

And there she was, trying to remember what she was doing in this meeting. The slight dent in Adam’s diplomatic armor squeezed her heart before that smile came back on at full blast. That high-power smile stood out front, shielding his vulnerability from public view. “If there’s anybody in this world who can poke holes in my bullshit, it’s this woman.”

What the hell?

Suddenly her shields were back up, the ice queen ready to do what she needed. If snarky and standoffish was the tone he was setting, then he’d be in for a very rude awakening. His one millisecond of vulnerability did not mean she was going to roll over and show him her belly.

She crossed her legs and tapped her fingers on the conference room table. “You admit you’re bringing bullshit instead of genuine government business?”

She heard the nerves in Adam’s laugh. He’d realized his comment had backfired. She wondered what he’d expected; she certainly wasn’t going to play. This was serious business, the potential impact of their discussion more than just whatever was – or wasn’t – between them.

The fact she still found him attractive didn’t mean she was going to let him get away with something that leaned so close to disrespect.

Finally, he nodded and sat across from her at the table. “You have a way of determining if I’m slinging bullshit.”

“Well,” the Senator said, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and Adam. She figured she’d have to explain later. “I’ll just leave you to determine whether Mr. Klein has something I should listen to.” He smiled and headed for the door.

“Yes, sir,” Tam replied, impressed by the speed with which the Senator left the room. Either his schedule was busier than she’d realized, he’d decided she had control over the meeting, or both.

Regardless, she was there for a meeting, not to sit and be conflicted over Adam. She opened the folder and organized the paperwork she’d prepared.

“Is that normal?”

The sound of Adam’s voice, vulnerability showing, broke through her attempt to focus. She looked up and saw surprise in his expression. What didn’t he get? The Senator’s behavior? Hers? Was she going to have to deal with a discussion that dissected their past now? Here?

She flipped through the packet again, giving herself time to get her speeding heart under control. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how you usually work things on this level, but you look as if you’re not used to getting shoved into control of a meeting.”

She tried not to sigh, and managed a smile instead. Honesty was the name of the game, and it was time to start.

“This is new. Since that freaking penguin got elected, we’ve been strategizing and wondering how it would affect us on a state level. Generally speaking, New York is lucky, with the exception of a small tricky situation in the Senate itself. But basically, we’re charting new territory. We assumed some kind of direct diplomatic contact would be initiated, but we weren’t sure how, or where.”

Adam nodded. She watched as he reached to his hair, momentarily distracted as his fingers pushed back the random strands that were out of place.

“Definitely new for us, too. The PM and the Foreign Affairs Minister have been exploring options in terms of how to retain close relationships despite central roadblocks, as it were. The proposals I’ve got are results of those discussions.”

“Proposals?” She confirmed as she remembered back to the morning’s meeting. “More than one?”

“Yeah.” He swallowed, straightened in his chair. His hands moved away from the rye bread on his plate, and he wiped them on a napkin. Tam wondered if he was nervous.

“We, the Canadian Government, see this as a big picture thing. This isn’t a singular proposal, but a change in the way we pursue diplomacy.”

Tam paused for a moment, then asked, “You’re talking about direct diplomacy between the state of New York and a foreign government?”

“Yes; a bilateral council. Albany. Toronto. Provincial and State legislatures, creating a bridge where there otherwise wouldn’t be. Understanding each other and diplomacy in a manner unlike we’ve needed to before.”

“And what’s the other proposal?”

He reached into his folder, pulled out two large stapled packets, and passed one to her. “Well, as you know, the New York government has been focused on the primacy of New York-made products.”

Tam spent a lot of time studying the ‘buy American’ provision the Governor had been focused on recently; it would help industries in both Central and Western New York.

“I’m familiar with the bill.” This was one of the discussions she’d expected. Tam reached into her folder and pulled out the packed she’d prepared. Concern bubbled in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t burning yet, but it was there. “How does this fit into the council?”

“Well,” he replied, “if the Senator agrees, he’ll get agenda-setting priority on the council.”

“Why this bill?” she asked, the ooze erupting and burning her insides. She recognized this path and she didn’t like it, not at all. “Why would you use this bill, and this provision in particular, as a means of judging willingness to join a council?”

“Because this is the closest we have to a bill that actually impacts the way Canada does business. And if you’re looking for individuals who’d be willing to negotiate directly with Canadians on a provincial level, you’d find them in people who’d be willing to see past the surface of a bill like this one.”

“It isn’t just a surface problem, Adam.” She pointed to the file. He wasn’t going to get it, though she had to try. “The problem is that a bill like this fixes an imbalance that harms industrial development in Central and Western New York. What you’re asking people to do is choose between their constituents and priority setting.”

“Who says the bill would mean the end of industry there? I mean we’re setting up dialogue, right? The council would facilitate the potential for a situation where a representative from Northern Ontario can have a conversation with their counterpart from Western New York about the importance of local industry.”

“But making the representatives from a part of the state whose industry depends on the subsidy this bill provides vote against in order to access that dialogue? Instead of potential, you’ve put together is a sure recipe for failure.”

“What about potential though? What’s wrong with that? A subsidy for one area of the state can only be a patch, solving a short-term problem. It can’t be a long-term solution, forcing the rest of the state to provide what this one section can’t. How is that for intra-state relations?”

If Tam heard the word potential one more time, she’d throw something. A bilateral council would require Ontario to understand the entirety of New York State, something it clearly didn’t, judging from what Adam was saying. If the Canadian Government didn’t take the time to learn the state wasn’t a monolith, that it had different needs for each part, she gave the council two meetings tops before it imploded in cross purposes.

That was when Tam realized papers and words weren’t going to help their discussion, and they definitely weren’t going to prepare Adam or his government for the road ahead. But what could? What would teach Adam, and the Canadian government, that the council and it’s potential for discussion in the future wouldn’t help the fledgling industry bringing Central and Western New York back from the brink of failure?

If only she could make them see the potential she did.

Oh hell.

The light bulb went on, and she realized what a true understanding was going to require. At bare minimum, they’d need to take a trip that took them between Albany and Western New York, with choice stops in Central New York. It would be unorthodox, wild, unprecedented, and probably a bad idea for her personally. If it worked though, the potential was staggering.

But would it work? Would it be enough?

If papers and reports didn’t stand had a chance, she had to try. She had to offer the idea, and hope the world, her boss, and the Government, would be ready for it.

* * *

Adam stopped talking as soon as he realized Tam was somewhere else. He couldn’t help but focus on her, the expression on her face. Of course she’d pulled together a packet of information that was almost as big as the one he’d been given by his boss. How long had it taken her to do that? She was still whip-smart, gorgeous, and the way he still felt about her scared the ever-loving crap out of him. Most importantly, she still hated him…for good reason.

He forced himself back to reality, but she was sitting across from him, stealing his concentration from the presentation he was supposed to be giving. Instead of focusing on something that was clearly ineffective, he wondered what she was thinking, what she’d say when she realized he’d stopped speaking and how she’d respond if he was someone else entirely. Someone who hadn’t stomped all over her heart. So, he waited.

“Okay,” she said, her tone all business, not dreamy, not in any way there for his daydreaming. “That’s fascinating and all well and good, and the Senator would love the idea of a cross-border legislative council, whether or not he supports legislation that would…allow him to set the tone. Which, I have to tell you, unless the Governor thinks he should, he’s not going to.”

He’d watched the ship of possibility slowly sink under Lake Ontario, his heart slowing down to nothing inside his chest. Game over. No chance for further diplomacy, or further discussion with her. No chance to even consider attempting a reconciliation, or at the bare minimum an apology. “We’re done?”

“We were done a while ago.”

Nerves were the reason the laugh came out of his mouth. He couldn’t blame it on anything else. What wouldn’t fall flat? He felt the burn of embarrassment and lost hopes riding his cheeks. All that remained of his task was gathering his paperwork and heading back to the hotel, job incomplete.

“But the council is a wonderful idea.”

His heart stopped again, and it was as if she’d hung the stars. He tried to hide his breath of relief and failed miserably.

“And,” she continued, oblivious to or completely ignoring the way his emotions were all over the place, “I think it’s going to require much more from either of us than paperwork. I really don’t want to suggest this, but I think it’s the only way to get a message across. What’s your policy regarding business trips? Do you have one?”

What did she mean? What did she want? What was she asking? He couldn’t tell, even though it was probably obvious because his heart and brain were both racing. “I’m not sure what you mean? Where you’re going with this?”

“We, against my better personal judgment, are going to Buffalo. We’re going to drive to Buffalo, and I’m going to show you what you’re up against. I’m going to show you what you, and more specifically Ottawa and Toronto, need to keep in mind when even considering a bilateral legislative council. Because I gotta tell you, tying it intimately to legislation that hampers industry in Upstate in general, in Central and Western New York in particular, is not a good look. Specifically because without cooperation with and understanding Western and Central New York, a bilateral council implodes within two meetings or less.”

His heart wanted to say yes the second her plan was out of her mouth. His brain reminded him he needed to react. His head informed him he needed to talk to his boss, the Foreign Affairs Minister, and possibly the PM before giving his heartfelt and immediate agreement. He blew a breath, tapped his fingers on the table and gave himself a second to calm down.

“I don’t know,” he told her as clearly as he could. “I need to get back to you.”

“If you let me know before 6, we can get the rental car before the place closes and be on the road tomorrow morning.”

He nodded, trying desperately not to let her see how excited he was about the prospect of this road trip, and seeing the parts of New York that he didn’t know through her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m not promising anything in terms of timing.”

Adam could see the fear in her eyes, the worry. He knew what it was like; proposing something completely unorthodox only to have it explode in your face. He offered her the only comfort he thought she’d take. His hand. “Should I email you? Or call either way?”

Instead of answering, she took his offered hand. Her touch burned him; his heart squeezed his chest.

“Yes.” Her voice was way too unaffected as she let go of his hand. But there was something in her eyes. Or was it wishful thinking?

Either way, he heard the rustling of papers as she removed something from a folder.

“My contact information is on here.” She bit her lip, the first small sign of her being nervous. “Talk soon?”

“Okay,” he said as he stood, relieved and took the offered business card. Of course, he had to press his luck. “And thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

Now that he’d stepped over the line, he might as well take it further. “The bread. Thank you for the rye bread.”

“You’re welcome,” she returned. “It’s—”

It wasn’t diplomacy. It had been special and he didn’t want her to say it had been nothing. Because it wasn’t nothing, not to him. So he couldn’t let her finish her sentence.

“No. Thank you.” He stood and headed to the door before he did anything worse.

“I’ll walk you out,” she said. “To make sure they know it’s not bad.”

Adam nodded but watched Tam as she methodically prepared to leave the conference room. She was nervous; it was as if every single move had to be perfect, and he wondered what about them being together in a conference room would make her nervous.

“You good?” The sound of her voice broke into his thoughts.

“Yes,” he said. “Fine, thanks.”

A noise halfway between a sigh and a groan emanated from her mouth. “Whatever,” she said as she shook her head. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The moment was over, and he was on his way out of the office, only to try and convince the PM to endorse his crazy mission.