by Harper Bliss
Aurore led the way to a rather messy living room. Or perhaps the vibe she was going for was cosy. Margot would go mad in a room like this. Claire didn’t mind.
“Please, do sit. I’ve just made coffee. Would you like some?”
“I would love some.” Aurore looked like the kind of person who was snobbish about her coffee. Another something for Claire to ascertain.
While Aurore was busy in the kitchen, Claire looked around the place. It was humble in the sense that it was not in the least ostentatious. It was lived in, with cushions in warm colours spread about the sofa and tasteful art on the walls. There was a built-in bookshelf overflowing with books. Claire resisted the urge to get up and examine what the likes of Aurore Seauve read.
“Here we go.” Aurore returned with a tray and poured the coffee. “Sorry to make short work of the niceties, but please don’t keep me in suspense any longer,” she continued as she sat. “Your message was very cryptic.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Claire took her cup and saucer from the tray and sipped from the coffee. Delicious, as she had predicted—not that burnt concoction most cafés in Paris served. “It’s a delicate matter.”
“I gathered as much.” Aurore regarded her intently.
“Has Rivière picked a PR agency yet?” Claire asked.
“Not that I know of,” Aurore said. “Although I have heard some of Anne’s advisors mention what a coup it would be if they could snag Barbier & Cyr.” She chuckled.
Claire cleared her throat. “What if it wouldn’t be such a coup?”
Aurore narrowed her eyes. “How do you mean?”
“As you can imagine, I’m currently the only one at Barbier & Cyr who feels this way about it, but I, for one, wouldn’t be opposed to working with the Socialists.”
Aurore painted on a crooked grin. “Excuse me for asking, but are you here to find out something? To gather information for the MLR? Because if you are, I can tell you here and now that I’m not playing that game.”
Claire shook her head. “I understand why you might think that, but I assure you that’s not the case. I’m not a member of the MLR.”
“But you did work on Dominique’s election campaign and I assumed it was a given you’d be doing the same for the next elections.”
Claire sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. She had a decision to make—a decision she had, truth be told, already made before she came here. If she hadn’t, there wouldn’t have been much point in turning up. Besides, she had to give Aurore something. She had to let the cat out of the bag. “Not everything that is assumed actually happens.” She inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. What she was about to say next was very sensitive information and could cause the wrath of her closest friends to rain down on her in full force for a very long time to come.
But Claire had had enough of the status quo. She needed something in her life, which seemed to be getting drearier with every passing day. “Who’s to say that Dominique will actually run again?” She scanned Aurore’s face for a reaction, while in her gut, butterflies flapped about making her feel more alive than she had in months.
Aurore burst into a belly laugh. “You are, for one,” she said, after her bout of laughter had subsided. “Or not?” She tilted her head. “What are you really saying?”
“I’m saying that doubts have been voiced.”
“No way.” Aurore took a sip of coffee. She looked as though she was doing her very best to absorb the information quickly. “That would change everything for my candidate.”
“I know.” Claire found Aurore’s gaze and they exchanged a meaningful glance.
“You’re telling me this why exactly?” Aurore swallowed hard.
“Because if Dominique doesn’t run, I would like Barbier & Cyr to work with Anne Rivière. It would be a perfect match.”
Aurore chuckled, then shook her head. “Good grief,” she said. “Solange must be… I don’t even know how she would deal with something like that.” She regrouped. “But you’re the only one in the firm who feels this way about it.”
“For the moment. Yes.” Claire sat up a bit straighter. “But I believe I can persuade my partners. Before I try, I wanted to check with you. Have you hired another firm already? And would it be an option for Rivière’s campaign to work with us?”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” Aurore said.
“Yet you’re the only person I can ask.”
“I can see why.” When Aurore reached for her coffee cup her hands trembled a little. “Coming to see me on the down-low like this, does it not make you feel… disloyal to your co-workers?”
“Someone at Barbier & Cyr has to keep an open mind. If Dominique doesn’t run, I don’t want us to sit on the sidelines.”
“You really think you can convince Juliette and… Steph?”
“I actually think Steph would be easier to convince than Juliette. If Dominique doesn’t run, Steph won’t care. She’ll have to pretend that she does, of course. Because she’s engaged to the leader of the MLR, but Steph is a leftie in her heart. I think we both know that. Jules… that’s going to be another kettle of fish, but nothing I can’t handle.” Claire believed Juliette had her mind more on retirement than running point on a presidential campaign these days. Maybe they were both getting a little sick of Barbier & Cyr. Their lives were so intertwined, it would make sense for them to feel the same thing at the same time—even about this.
“I’ll need to talk to some people,” Aurore said. “I can’t make promises on my own.”
“It will have to be done discreetly. No one can find out I told you about the president’s doubts. They’ll crucify me.”
“In all honesty,” Aurore said, “just before I got your email yesterday, I had decided to take a step back from the Rivière campaign.”
“Oh. Why? I thought you and Solange…” She paused. “Ah, because of Solange?”
Aurore nodded.
“How do you feel about that now?”
Aurore peered into her cup for a few seconds before speaking. “I will make discreet inquiries, but since everything hinges on Dominique’s decision, it’s a very delicate matter. I can’t just barge into Rivière’s headquarters with this news. We wouldn’t even be able to use it to our advantage if she does run. That wouldn’t sit right with me.”
“I understand.” Perhaps Claire had misjudged the scope of Aurore’s political interests. Or perhaps Aurore was still so hung up on Solange, it translated into some sort of two-degrees-of-separation loyalty to Dominique. “Just don’t make any decisions yet on which agency to hire. We managed to get Dominique elected under very difficult circumstances last time. You know we’re good at what we do.”
“I’ll keep my ear to the ground.”
“And I’ll keep you posted.” Claire drained the rest of her coffee. “I’d better go.”
She quickly said goodbye and hurried out of Aurore’s apartment. Whereas earlier the thrill of her endeavour had made it feel so right, the whole thing had, all of a sudden, started tasting quite foul. Maybe she had hoped for a more enthusiastic reaction from Aurore. But she had to take into consideration that news like that would be a shock to anyone.
Margot
Margot was just about to head out for a quick lunch, when she got a text from Nadia.
Inez is in the building. Be warned. N. Xo
Great, she thought. A perfect opportunity to truly examine her feelings. She and Claire had spent a large part of the weekend alone, giving Margot ample opportunity to broach the subject of Inez Larue, yet she hadn’t. She wasn’t sure if it was because she feared her own reaction when she actually saw Inez again, or Claire’s reaction to the news.
Claire was clearly struggling with something of her own, and Margot didn’t want to add to that. Or so she told herself. There was always an excuse to not do the hard thing. Margot knew this better than anyone and she usually prided herself on being straightforward, especially about something like this. She didn’t believe in secrets.
Bumping into Inez would give her some clarity. Instead of getting lunch, she would try to find her. She texted Nadia back and asked her where she could find Inez.
Is that a good idea?
Best to get it out of the way asap.
She left my office a few minutes ago.
Margot took the stairs to Nadia’s floor. She and Inez had often stolen a quick kiss in the hospital stairwell. Who knew, maybe Inez was on the look-out for her as well.
Just as she rounded the corner, her phone beeped again. Margot ignored the message because she had already spotted that mane of ginger hair she would recognise anywhere. Inez was coming straight towards her. Something about her looked distinctly different, however. Margot had a pretty good idea who had sent her that last text and what the content of it was.
“Hello, stranger,” Inez said. “Still hanging out in the stairwell during your lunch hour, are you?” She opened her arms wide. That was so typical of Inez.
Instead of stepping into Inez’ embrace, Margot couldn’t stop staring at Inez’ belly.
“Oh, the bump has thrown you. I get it,” she said. “I’m severely pregnant, but please do me the courtesy of not asking who the father is.” She waved her hands about. “How about a hug for your old… well, I guess I can only describe myself as your old lover.”
Margot gave her a stiff hug, careful not to press too much of her weight into Inez’ belly.
“How about a spot of lunch?” Inez stepped back. “That is if you’re in the mood at all to catch up with me.”
Margot nodded. “I will be asking about that bump, though. And its provenance,” she said.
“You and everyone else.”
They made their way to the cafeteria and Margot used the time it took to descend the stairs to process Inez’ pregnancy. Her brain was a whirlwind of questions. But one thing she instantly knew for sure was that she would tell Claire about Inez returning to Paris as soon as possible.
“Doctors are the worst when it comes to their own health,” Inez said. “I honestly thought I was perimenopausal, but there you go. My eggs hadn’t all dried up just yet.” She eyed Margot’s cup of coffee eagerly. “But before I tell you all about the bump, tell me something about you.” She glanced at Margot’s hands. “Still no wedding ring on your finger?”
Margot touched the spot on her ring finger where she had worn her wedding ring for a few days. As a surgeon, it was simply a very impractical piece of jewellery. And she wasn’t big on jewellery to begin with.
“I am married, actually. It’s just with all the scrubbing for surgery…”
“Who’s the lucky lady?” Pregnancy seemed to have made Inez even more outgoing. Or maybe she’d always been that way and Margot had forgotten—or chosen to forget.
“Claire Cyr.”
Inez raised her eyebrows. “Forgiveness is a beautiful thing.” She smiled. “I’m happy for you.”
“Both my parents died this year,” Margot blurted out. Instantly, the familiar anguish was back in her chest. But saying it out loud always, inexplicably, made her feel better for a few moments.
“Oh no. I’m so sorry.” Inez put a hand on Margot’s upper arm. “I adored them.”
Margot nodded. Her parents had loved Inez as well.
“How are you holding up?” Inez kept her hand on Margot’s arm a little longer, even giving her a little squeeze.
“I’ve been working a lot. I need to keep busy.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Inez’ voice was warm with compassion.
Margot shook her head again. She didn’t want to discuss her parents’ death in the hospital cafeteria. She didn’t trust herself to do that in such a public place.
“Let’s talk about… the bump,” she said.
“Well… long story short. I got myself pregnant in Rwanda.”
“B-but… how?” Margot stuttered.
“You’re a doctor, Go-Go. I’m sure you know how it works. Lonely doctor meets gorgeous local nurse. Male nurse, obviously. Et voilà.” She pointed at her belly.
“Jesus.” Too much to process, Margot thought.
“…had nothing to do with it whatsoever.” Inez sat there beaming in the way Margot had seen many a pregnant woman do.
“When you say don’t ask about the father? Do you mean that he doesn’t know?”
“Oh, he knows, but well, he’s not here, is he? And do I really want a man on my back?” She huffed out some air. “As well as a newborn?” She grinned.
“If he’s a nurse, I’m sure he must be quite adept with babies.”
“I really don’t want a relationship with the guy.”
“So you’re going to be a single mother at…” Margot had trouble remembering Inez’ age.
“Forty-three. Yes, indeed.”
“Did you come here to apply for a job?” Margot asked.
“For after I’ve given birth. I came by to see if there were any options. Saint-Vincent has excellent day-care.” Inez winked.
“And?” Margot asked.
“I’d love to come back here. Nadia said she’d keep me up to speed. I know from my uncle that the hospital could use someone like me, but I got the impression Nadia needed to consult with her favourite surgeon first. Before making any promises to me.”
“For the record, I told her I had no problem with you coming back to work here.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t get over the fact you’re going to have a baby. And you don’t want the father in your or the baby’s life.”
“His life’s in Rwanda. Now that I’m going to be a mother, I want to build my life back up here.”
“Forgive me for being blunt…”
Inez waved her off before Margot had even asked the question. “Nothing I’m not used to from you.”
“I didn’t even know you slept with men.”
“We haven’t seen each other in a very long time, Go-Go.” She smiled that smile of hers. “Things change. But it was just sex. A one-night stand at the wrong time of the month. Or the right one, depending on how you look at it.”
“How did you look at it when you found out?” And why did you not use protection, Margot thought, but that was too direct a question, even for her, after so many years of not seeing someone you used to love.
“It was a shock, I won’t lie. But I like to believe it happened for a reason. I was ready to come back to France sooner rather than later, anyway. Ready for a change of pace. And a big life change, actually.” She grinned. “Wish me luck attracting some eligible bachelorettes with this bump, eh?”
“And a newborn soon,” Margot added.
“In two months, actually.” Inez nodded. “I’m glad I ran into you.”
“Me too,” Margot said, and finally tucked into her lunch. She had surgery in twenty minutes.
Aurore
For two long days, Aurore had stewed on the news that Claire had delivered, until she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to call Solange. She must be all up in arms about her boss considering bowing out of the presidential race. Aurore knew Solange better than most and she wouldn’t be taking this well. The poor thing probably had no one to talk to about it.
She wondered if Steph had known when she came by the other week. She must have, but she’d wisely not divulged that bit of very delicate information. If Aurore was as evil-spirited as some politicians, she could seriously undermine Dominique’s chances of a second term well before she officially announced she would run. But Aurore wouldn’t even consider that notion.
On the contrary. She wanted to tell Steph that Barbier & Cyr had a mole in their ranks. In fact, Steph was her safest bet because if she told Solange that someone from Barbier & Cyr had come to see her and told her the news, the shit would surely hit the fan.
Dominique’s doubts had also managed to keep Aurore from having a chat with Rivière about taking her distance from the campaign. Aurore knew exactly how Solange felt, because she had no one to talk to about t
his either. Not really. Except maybe Camille. This must have been discussed at Barbier & Cyr, where Zoya worked. Maybe Camille knew. Clearly, the partners at the agency hadn’t sworn each other to secrecy about the matter. If they had, they’d done a very poor job of it.
If Aurore wasn’t going to use this information for left-wing political gain, then what could she do with it? Claire could talk about inquiring discreetly all she wanted, that was much easier said than done. The only thing she could really hope for was that Dominique would announce her official candidacy soon. As in this very day.
Maybe she should give Solange a call either way. Would it be so weird to check in with her? Maybe drop a hint at the sacrifice that, only a few days ago, she’d made up her mind about making. If she distanced herself from Rivière, it wouldn’t even matter that she knew about Dominique’s hesitation. Maybe there was an easy way out of this.
Oh, sod it. She reached for her phone and found Solange’s number. She dialled and waited. Solange picked up after the second ring. She probably hadn’t checked her screen. She got so many calls she had to deal with swiftly that she didn’t bother taking the time.
“Solange Garceau,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Hi. It’s me,” Aurore said.
“Aurore?” Solange sounded hurt more than surprised.
“Yes.” Maybe this had been a mistake. But it was nine o’clock in the evening. Surely Aurore hadn’t disturbed Solange in the middle of a meeting. “Hey. I’m just… checking in.”
“About what?” Solange asked.
It was a fair question. They didn’t really have anything left to discuss.
“I was wondering when I could come by to pick up some of my things I left at your place. I seem to be missing a bra,” Aurore blurted out. She’d left the bra deliberately one day. She knew Solange had trouble dealing with stray objects in her home. After they’d broken up, it had given Aurore a small degree of pleasure that Solange would be forced to think of her at least once while she cleared it up.
