Season Five: French Kissing, Book 5

by Harper Bliss

  “Oh. Yes. There’s not that much. How about I have it sent over?” Solange said.

  “Look, Solange. I just want to see how you are. We didn’t really leave things in a very friendly way…”

  “I’m doing fine,” Solange said curtly.

  Yeah right, Aurore thought.

  “Do you want to meet up sometime? Maybe over the weekend?” She had to press on. She had started this so she’d better finish it.

  “To do what?” Solange asked.

  “Talk.”

  Solange sighed. “I’m not sure I want to talk to you.”

  “I get that, but… I’d like to see you. I’d like to talk to you about something.”

  “Can’t you tell me over the phone?”

  “No. This is something to be discussed in person.”

  “Please, Aurore, don’t do that. Don’t go all mysterious on me just so I’ll agree to see you because I’m curious. It’s not fair.”

  So many things about our relationship weren’t fair, Aurore thought. “I know. But please come by some time. When are you free?”

  “I’m free now,” Solange said.

  Aurore hadn’t expected that. “Now it is then. I can come to yours, if you prefer.”

  “I’m just about to leave the office. I’ll make a stop at yours,” Solange said. “I’ll be there in half an hour.” With that, she hung up.

  Aurore cast her gaze about the living room. It wasn’t exactly spic-and-span, but she believed that, over time, Solange had taken a shine to her more chaotic way of organising things. Maybe it would bring back some fond memories for her.

  Then she took a deep breath and tried to come up with what on earth she would say to Solange.

  Solange arrived a few minutes after nine thirty. She walked in briskly, not bothering with any niceties.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stop at mine first to pick up your bra,” she said, and it sounded so comical coming from her that Aurore had to suppress a smile.

  “Don’t be silly. You live on the other side of the city,” Aurore said. “You look tired.” Genuine concern spread in her chest.

  “My sleep has been rather impaired lately and things are a bit… difficult at the office.”

  It could mean anything, of course, but because Aurore knew what Solange actually meant, she was surprised by her candour.

  “What’s going on?” She gestured for Solange to sit. She did, but didn’t take off her coat.

  “Nothing I can talk to you about.” Solange had completely reverted to the woman Aurore had first met. All sharp lines in her face and her guard all the way up.

  “Of course not.” Silly of me to ask, she thought.

  “What did you want to talk about?” Solange asked.

  Aurore rubbed her palms on her jeans. “Do you want a drink?”

  “I really shouldn’t. I haven’t had dinner.” Solange seemed to loosen up a little.

  “I’ll get us some snacks and wine.” Aurore disappeared into the kitchen before Solange had a chance to protest. As she quickly assembled a tray of cheese and saucisson, she thought that it was a good sign that Solange was seated and having a little something to eat. What Aurore had to say might not go down well on an empty stomach. Although she wasn’t quite sure yet what she was going to say—and how.

  She deposited the tray, butter, and some hastily cut chunks of bread on the coffee table. Then she poured them both a generous glass of a Pauillac she had opened earlier. While she’d been in the kitchen, Solange had shrugged off her coat.

  If Aurore blotted out from her memory, for a second or two, what had happened between them last week, it looked as though they were a happy couple sitting down for a chat over some cheese and wine. How looks could be deceiving.

  “Thanks for coming,” Aurore said. Solange had gone out of her way to be here. Despite Aurore’s use of the age-old tactic of piquing her curiosity. She’d best come up with the goods soon.

  Solange sipped from the wine and Aurore could see her relax. Her shoulders lowered somewhat and she stretched out her legs. She’d sat in what had become her favourite chair for exactly this kind of activity. An after-work snack. She reached for a piece of bread and eagerly took a bite.

  “This could be construed as blackmail,” Solange said in between bites. “Bribing hungry government employees with food.”

  “I’ve been thinking about…” Aurore started. “Us. And before you say there’s no more us.” Aurore looked up. Solange didn’t seem about to protest. Instead, she was attacking the cheese—a thirty-six-month old Comté—with great vigour. If they were going to make people work sixteen hour days, they should really feed them three meals at the Elysée, Aurore thought. The number of times Solange had arrived at her place famished after another marathon meeting. “I’m referring to the ‘us’ we used to be and how some of the mistakes we made could perhaps have been avoided, if I…” This was the hardest bit to say. Aurore wasn’t sure she could find the words. “If I were to take my distance from the Socialist campaign and step back as an adviser to Anne Rivière.”

  Solange dropped the cheese knife. She stared blankly in Aurore’s direction.

  Solange

  Solange didn’t know what to say. Or better, she didn’t want to say the first thing that popped into her head. That what Aurore had just suggested was impossible. One’s political conviction was not something so easily stepped away from.

  “Would you even consider that?” she asked, instead, and took another sip of wine. Aurore always had the most delicious wine at her place.

  “I believe that’s what I just said.”

  “It’s not something I can ask of you. Just like you would never ask it of me.”

  “Our situations are not the same. You’re chief of staff to the president. I… sometimes talk to Rivière about certain topics, of which most won’t even be that important in the campaign.”

  “But you’re an important ally and supporter to have,” Solange said. Aurore had a knack for underestimating her influence.

  “I won’t withdraw my support. I just won’t be so actively involved and I’ll try… not to get so upset about all the laws you’re still hastily trying to push through during Dominique’s last year.”

  “But that’s just it,” Solange leaned forward and studied Aurore’s face. God, how she had missed it. It was by no means perfect, and it did not conform to what most magazines would consider today’s standard of beauty, but it was gorgeous nonetheless. Full of character and life… and conviction. Solange loved Aurore precisely for that conviction because it was something that she knew and she could relate to. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t criticise the tax reform bill or the latest gender laws, which will never go far enough for you. That fire you have burning inside is what makes you so uniquely you.”

  “Have you missed me?” Aurore pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture made her look so vulnerable. Solange interpreted it as Aurore’s very own admission that she had missed her quite a bit.

  Solange thought of the past weekend. She could bury herself in work all she wanted. She could work twenty-five hours per day and still not be done with everything that was needed. Yet it wouldn’t make her miss Aurore any less.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I miss you. Of course I do. I love you. Why do you think we always keep getting back together, against our better judgment?”

  “I miss you too,” Aurore said. “Too much to just try and move on.”

  “You want to try again?” Solange tried her best not to sound too desperate. They’d been here so many times before. She could do without another bout of sure-fire heartache. Without the rollercoaster of emotions that came with the endless breaking-up-and-getting-back-together cycle.

  “I do, but I want to do things differently this time. I don’t want it to just be another go. The two of us blindly starting over without first addressing the issues between us. I’m willing to meet you halfway, Solange. I’m willing to compromise because what we had bet
ween us, however difficult, is worth fighting for.”

  Solange leaned back in her chair. The sudden hunger that had reared up after coming eye-to-eye with the cheese platter subsided. “You can’t be the only one compromising. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “It would, because you’re at the absolute height of your career. You’re doing the job that you’ve worked your entire life for. I’ve known this all along, yet it’s been hard for me because I come from a working-class family and, well, it’s difficult for me to be on the side of the MLR, albeit indirectly. I’m not going to repeat all the things I’ve said to you in the past. But I now see that I was wrong to let that come between us. I was the one who had to make the effort. I’m the one who has to support you, because that’s what partners do. In the end, we’re so much more than the party we belong to. For that reason, I’m willing to take a step back.”

  Solange glanced at Aurore’s face. She looked deadly serious.

  “You know, after the past two weeks, which have been pretty close to my biggest nightmare scenario at work, to hear you say something so sweet and kind and selfless… it really makes me want to believe you.” Solange had to stop herself from pushing her weary body out of the chair, walking over to Aurore, and just crashing in her lap and letting herself be showered in sweet kindnesses like that for the rest of the evening.

  “I was going to talk to Anne about it earlier this week, but…” Aurore shuffled in her seat. “I’ve come across some information that, quite frankly, made my head spin.”

  “What?” Solange’s ears perked up.

  “I know what the nightmare scenario you just referred to is, Solange. I know about Dominique’s doubts.”

  “Excuse me?” Solange all but shot out of her chair. Her mind started racing and quickly landed at the only possible conclusion. “I’m going to ban Stéphanie from the Elysée, I swear.”

  “It wasn’t Stéphanie who told me. It was someone else at Barbier & Cyr.”

  “Who?” Solange demanded.

  “I’m not going to tell you. I don’t think that would be wise.” Aurore was the one who rose and headed over to Solange. She crouched down and put a hand on her knee. “Take a few deep breaths and while you do, rest assured that I have done absolutely nothing with this information. You’re the first person I’ve told about this since I found out.”

  Solange’s mind had trouble keeping up. They had a leak in the campaign—and she wasn’t even sure there would be a campaign. Too bad for Stéphanie, but there was no way they’d be working with Barbier & Cyr ever again. This shouldn’t even have been discussed outside of the Elysée, because, in politics, leaks always happened. They were a given.

  Solange grabbed her bag from the floor and searched for her phone. “I have to call the president.”

  “Solange. It’s ten o’clock. Leave it until tomorrow. No one else knows.”

  “How can you be sure? If this… traitor told you, who’s to say they haven’t gone around telling other people?” Something was beginning to dawn on her. “Why did they confide in you, of all people?”

  “I can’t tell you that either.”

  Solange shook her head. “Is this your way of doing things differently?”

  “Yes.” Aurore’s hand pressed a little more firmly onto her knee. “I could have chosen not to tell you. I could have done so many things with this information. But I didn’t. Because of you. That’s why I wanted to see you. This must be eating you up inside.”

  “You have no idea.” Solange crashed against the back of the chair again. “I’ve only worked my entire life for this. So has Dominique, which is why I fail to understand her doubts. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “How about we try and make sense of it together.” Aurore pushed herself up and sat on the armrest—half on Solange’s lap.

  “Every cell in my body wishes I could do that.” Solange, of course, wasn’t born yesterday. This could still be so many things. An ambush. A ruse to make her say more than Aurore already knew. Moreover, she had to get word to Dominique that she had to make a decision soon, before this got out. “But you know I can’t. First, you spin me a line about taking your distance from Rivière, and only then you tell me that you know this. Why didn’t you tell me that you knew about Dominique first?”

  “Solange, please.” Aurore scoffed. “Tell me honestly, do you trust me?”

  Solange didn’t immediately answer. She couldn’t.

  “Yes, we have very different opinions on many matters, but have I ever, since we’ve met, violated your trust in me?” Aurore asked.

  “No.” Solange could hardly claim the opposite. Unlike one of the traitors at Barbier & Cyr, who got paid handsomely for their efforts, Aurore was a woman of her word. But this whole thing just felt off. Or maybe Solange was still absorbing the shock. Although, it shouldn’t really surprise her too much that the news had already leaked.

  “You have to trust me on this too. Everything I’ve told you is nothing but the god’s honest truth. I think you know that.”

  “I’m not going to wake up tomorrow to a headline in Le Matin with this news?” Solange asked.

  “No. I promise.”

  “As if this job isn’t hard enough.” Solange let her arms fall forward. One of her hands landed on Aurore’s thigh. “If we can’t trust the people we work with…”

  “It’s all part of politics.”

  Solange shook her head. “Dominique considers these women her friends.” Another penny dropped. “Were they pitching Barbier & Cyr’s services to Rivière in case Dominique doesn’t run?”

  Aurore nodded.

  Solange took a deep breath. She had calmed down. No actual harm had been done yet. In fact, in moments like this, she could understand Dominique’s reluctance to put herself through the whole rigmarole again—but she would never say that out loud, of course. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “Knowing you, that can’t have been easy.”

  “Not a whole lot has been easy since I met you.” Aurore ran the back of her hand over Solange’s cheek. “But it has most definitely been worth it.”

  “I’d love to stay.” Solange trapped Aurore’s hand in hers. “But I have to go home and think. I need to be ready for tomorrow. I need to contain this.”

  “I know you do.” Aurore gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

  “I’ll come by tomorrow,” Solange said. “I promise.”

  Dominique

  When Dominique opened her eyes and, as usual first thing, reached for her mobile phone, she noticed three missed calls from Solange. And it wasn’t even six in the morning. Something must be going on. Something only Solange knew about, otherwise Dominique would have been woken up much earlier.

  While she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she listened to one of the voice messages Solange had left.

  “Meet me in my office as soon as you can,” Solange said, sounding even more tense than usual. “It’s an emergency.”

  Solange wasn’t one to call a small thing an emergency so Dominique knew she’d better hurry. She looked over at Steph, who was still sleeping soundly. She wore earplugs and a sleep mask these days, which helped her snooze past Dominique’s early wake-up call.

  Dominique hopped out of bed and got ready for another wild day of being president.

  As she made her way to Solange’s office—the only one with the lights already on—Dominique considered it a good thing that she could talk to Solange before anyone else arrived. That way, she could take the opportunity to tell her about Steph’s plan for her to go away next weekend. Solange would surely rail against it, so Dominique welcomed the privacy this early hour offered them.

  “Good morning.” Dominique entered Solange’s office.

  Solange didn’t look as though she was having a very good morning at all.

  “We’ve been betrayed.” Solange rose from her chair and started pacing. “Someone at Barbier & Cyr has leaked that you might not run for a second term.”

  “Leaked it to whom?” Not t
o a newspaper, or Dominique would have heard about it already.

  Solange drew in a deep breath, then steadied herself against the side of her desk. “To Aurore. She told me last night. She didn’t tell me who at Barbier & Cyr spilled the beans, although the possibilities aren’t vast.” She held up a finger. “It wasn’t Stéphanie, in case you’re wondering.” She gave a curt shake of the head. “Although it was Stéphanie who shared the news with her colleagues, of course.” Solange gave Dominique a meaningful look. “It can only have been Claire or Juliette. I don’t know them well enough to suss out who, but it doesn’t matter. They’ve betrayed us and they’re pitching their services to the Socialists behind our back.”

  Dominique had foregone breakfast because Solange’s message had sounded so urgent. She looked around for some coffee, but didn’t see any. She would have to digest this without the help of caffeine.

  She sorted the information Solange had just given her in her mind. Steph had told her that she had talked about this at the office—she claimed to have not had a choice. But that was as far as Dominique’s knowledge went.

  “Someone at Barbier & Cyr told Aurore,” she said. “Because of her connection to Anne Rivière.”

  Solange gave a tense nod.

  Dominique was the president. If even she couldn’t expect loyalty from the PR agency she worked with, who could? Could they really not have exercised a few weeks of patience before inquiring with the MLR’s political enemy? It was, on all counts, inexcusable and severely unprofessional behaviour. All of this was further complicated by the fact that Steph worked at Barbier & Cyr. How could they do this to her? She’d worked there since the day she’d left university.

  “They’re fired then,” Dominique said. “I’ll tell Stéphanie.” She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

  “They signed a non-disclosure agreement when we worked with them on the first campaign. We can probably sue them over this,” Solange said.

  Dominique shook her head. “The president doesn’t sue PR agencies.”