Season Five: French Kissing, Book 5

by Harper Bliss

  Dominique opened the bottle and poured some into the glass that had been left alongside it. She sniffed it before taking a sip. She remembered now that she’d had it numerous times before. It was her mother’s favourite.

  The silence she’d been enjoying so much was suddenly pierced by the deafening sound of helicopter blades whirring. Why was the helicopter leaving? She didn’t remember anyone telling her about this. Was it needed elsewhere? What if she was urgently needed elsewhere? That helicopter was supposed to be at her disposal at all times in case of an emergency. When she’d become president, the secret service had insisted on building a helipad less than a kilometre from the summer house—much to the chagrin of most of the neighbours.

  She put down the glass of wine and ran to the door. Surely someone could tell her what was happening.

  By the time she made it outside the noise had stopped. She couldn’t see anything over the fence.

  “Officer Hainaut,” she said. “Why did the helicopter leave?”

  “It didn’t leave, Madam President. That was a second helicopter arriving.”

  “What? Who’s in it?”

  “It’s supposed to be a surprise, Madam President. Either way, they’ll be here soon enough.”

  “A surprise?” Dominique instantly thought of Steph. It could only be her.

  The front gates opened and a black car drove in. Perhaps Lisa and Didier would be in there as well. Maybe this silent retreat had just been an elaborate way for Steph to get the four of them to spend some quality time together. Maybe this was how she wanted to steer Dominique’s decision-making process…

  An agent opened the back door of the car. They weren’t children’s feet Dominique saw emerge, nor were they Steph’s feet.

  The wine. Of course.

  “Bonjour, chérie,” Dominique’s mother said as she approached. “I’ve come to help you make a very important decision.”

  Episode Twenty-one

  One Year Later

  Juliette

  “It’s not ideal. I know that.” Juliette paced the room.

  “If we didn’t have a two-round voting system, Rivière would be president now,” Dominique said. “How did this happen?”

  “It was the most minute difference,” Steph said. “We still have everything to play for.”

  “Just tell me honestly.” Dominique stood at her desk, her fists balled. “Do I need to start considering the possibility that I might lose?”

  As the numbers of the first round had started rolling in, Juliette had thought, more than once, that she really could have done with Claire by her side. Claire would be able to talk to Dominique in that calm and decisive way she had. She’d be able to say the right thing and assure her that the real fight was yet to come, and she had everything going for her to win the war, even after this first lost battle.

  “Marechal is out. That’s something,” Juliette said. “Now it’s just between you and Rivière. So let’s regroup and start hitting our message again.” All of this was such a far cry from the quieter life Juliette had imagined for herself.

  “It was one percent,” Solange said. Juliette could tell how difficult it was for her to say those words out loud. “One percent is virtually nothing.”

  “Yet it feels like everything,” Dominique said.

  “The Rivière campaign is probably partying,” Steph said. “And while doing so, taking their eye off the ball. We’re the underdog now.”

  “I’m the president. I can never be the underdog,” Dominique argued.

  Juliette zoned out of the conversation. Her ears were buzzing and the beginning of a headache thrummed at the base of her skull. She hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in… she couldn’t even remember. She hadn’t seen Nadia—properly seen her—in days. The build-up to the first round of the presidential elections had been all-consuming, and they weren’t home and dry just yet—not by a long shot.

  There was another two weeks of this—and even then, all their efforts could prove to have been in vain.

  “I’ve written that speech you asked for,” Solange said. “Do you want to go over it now?”

  Dominique shook her head. “I need some time. Can I have the room, please?”

  Juliette started making her way out of Dominique’s office, followed by Solange.

  “Is Steph not joining us?” Juliette asked.

  “Dominique needs her.” Solange leaned against her desk.

  “Tell me honestly.” Juliette turned to Solange. “What could we have done differently?”

  Solange shook her head. “Nothing. Rivière is simply a much stronger candidate than any of us had anticipated. She’s as charismatic as Dominique, she has proven that she can take her on in a debate, and now she has momentum on her side.”

  “I refuse to believe people are sick of their current president.” Juliette tried to sound fierce even though Dominique wasn’t in the room and didn’t need to be buoyed.

  “We will get most of Marechal’s votes in the second round.” Solange tapped her fingers on the surface of her desk. “A lot of those voters would rather cut off a limb than vote for a Socialist.”

  Perhaps Juliette should have seen this coming somehow. But she had no crystal ball. And she’d been too busy the past year to see anything coming at all.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Juliette checked the screen. A text from Nadia. Juliette had promised she’d be home about an hour ago.

  “Do you still need me here?” She glanced at Solange, who looked about as exhausted as Juliette felt.

  “Go home.” There was a surprising amount of gentleness in Solange’s voice. “Get some rest. Be with your wife.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Juliette said and gladly took the opportunity to dash off.

  “Hey babe,” Nadia shouted when she opened the door. Phénix came bounding towards her as though Juliette had been away for weeks instead of since the morning.

  “Hi.” Juliette dumped her bag and coat on a chair in the living room. She was so glad to see the face of someone unrelated to the campaign in any way.

  “Someone named their newborn baby after you today.” Nadia patted the spot on the sofa next to her.

  “Oh really.”

  “One of the radiology nurses gave birth today. I never knew she was so fond of you.” Nadia smiled at her.

  Juliette dropped onto the sofa and pressed herself against Nadia. “Today is the worst day to name a baby after me.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Nadia threw an arm around her and held her close. “Every day is an excellent day to name a baby girl Juliette. In fact, hospital records show that many people do exactly that.”

  “Did everything go smoothly? The baby’s healthy?”

  “She’s fine and so is the mother.”

  “Good.”

  “Claire came by the hospital today,” Nadia said, and held Juliette a little closer. “She was picking up Inez’ daughter from day care.”

  “It just figures that she and Inez are now friends.” Sometimes, Juliette could swear that she missed Claire in a physical way, that the ache in her gut was the physical manifestation of Claire being absent from her life. Meanwhile, it appeared as though Inez Larue had acquired all the things that Juliette had wanted out of life once: a child and Claire as her friend.

  Nadia didn’t react to Juliette’s jibe.

  “Did you talk to Claire?”

  “Briefly,” Nadia said.

  Juliette hadn’t seen or spoken to Claire in about a year. It felt like someone had reached inside her with a scalpel and sliced off a piece of her heart.

  She’d been too busy keeping the company running and working on Dominique’s campaign to think about it too much. But it was always in moments like these, when the energy of the day had faded and her mind was ready for some emptiness, that Claire Cyr popped up in her thoughts.

  “How was Dominique?” Nadia asked.

  “Disappointed.”

  “I can imagine.” Nadia planted a kiss on
the top of Juliette’s head. “How are you?”

  “I’m so tired, babe. I’ve no idea how I’m going to do this for another two weeks. All the meetings and the strategising and, frankly, the blah-blah-blah of it all. I’m sick of meetings. In fact, if I’m being truly honest, I’m quite sick of spending most of my time with Dominique and Solange.”

  “You miss your wing woman. Especially now, after Dominique only coming second in the first round.”

  Juliette sighed deeply. “I never even had to imagine running the company on my own. Having to do it during a presidential campaign is just…”

  “It’s okay to admit that you miss Claire.”

  “I don’t want to miss her.”

  “Unfortunately, you can’t really choose how you feel.”

  “How was she?” Juliette sat up so she could see Nadia’s face. “When you saw her?”

  “I just ran into her briefly,” Nadia said. “We didn’t really talk. But she seemed very gentle and attentive with Inez’ daughter.”

  “Two words that should never be associated with Claire Cyr.” Juliette fell back into Nadia’s arms. She needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow, it would all start over again—and she’d need to do everything she could to get Dominique re-elected. Without Claire by her side.

  Claire

  “Do you think now would be a good time to reach out?” Claire said. “Now that Dominique’s behind.”

  Margot had barely recovered from the shock. Claire didn’t want to rub it in by saying ‘I told you so’, but she’d had a strong sense of Rivière’s rise for months. It didn’t surprise her one bit that Rivière had beaten Dominique.

  “I don’t know,” was all Margot said.

  “I think I could help.”

  “Claire.” Margot used that tone of voice that might have shut Claire up in the past, but not any longer.

  “I’m just sitting here twiddling my thumbs while Dominique’s losing…”

  “She’s not losing.” Margot looked up from the magazine she was reading.

  “She’s not exactly winning either.”

  “Not yet.” Margot was still a firm believer in all things MLR. “She will. In two weeks.” Margot put the magazine away. “Meanwhile, does my trophy wife not have a birthday party to arrange?”

  Claire rolled her eyes. Margot had taken to calling her that a while ago and, while she’d been able to manage a small snicker at first, it was beginning to sound very old. “You don’t even want a party.”

  “You know what I want.”

  Claire knew that last year, Margot was still grieving the loss of her parents too much to want anything more than a nice quiet dinner with her wife. This year, however, she had decided she wanted a dinner party—with Nadia and Juliette.

  Claire shrugged. “Nadia might have no choice but to show up without Jules since Jules is far too busy losing the presidential campaign for Dominique.”

  “Correction: I want two things for my birthday,” Margot said. “I want Dominique to win and I want Nadia, with or without Juliette, along with Inez, to be at my party.”

  “Only your ex and my ex-best friend’s wife then.”

  “My ex who has become one of your best friends,” Margot said matter-of-factly.

  “Becoming a mother has obviously changed her.” With all the time she had on her hands, Claire had played babysitter for Inez’ daughter plenty of times. She’d grown so fond of the child that, if she didn’t see Adèle for more than a week, she started missing her. “Anyway, Inez being there won’t be a problem. Nadia… I’m not so sure.”

  Claire sometimes saw her at the hospital but Nadia was no longer the warm person she used to be, at least not towards Claire.

  “Maybe after the election you can contact Juliette and Steph. Ask them how long your leave of absence is supposed to last for.”

  Claire sighed. “Maybe.”

  “A decision will have to be made at some point.”

  “One thing’s for sure, I’m sick of not having a job.” In the beginning, Claire had, rather unexpectedly, enjoyed her newfound freedom. Every morning when she woke up, she was greeted by a great mass of free time. It had been fun for a few weeks, after which she had started to crave the structure that having a job had provided.

  So she had structured her days. She had enrolled in that Spanish class she’d never had time for before. She’d joined Margot’s boxing gym. She had started spending time with Inez, who had still been on maternity leave. So much time, in fact, that after Inez had gone back to work, and she urgently needed someone to take care of little Adèle, Claire had become the first person she called.

  Claire’s life had not spun out of control without having a job to lose herself in. It had just continued in a different way. Now, almost a year later, she was calmer and, perhaps, a bit wiser than before. But she was getting antsy to get back into the PR business. If her leave of absence at Barbier & Cyr ended in her leaving the company for good, she’d start all over again. She’d start her own firm.

  “You can always become a nanny,” Margot joked.

  “It’s just tough to sit this one out,” Claire admitted. “Now that things are really getting serious.” She glanced at Margot. “If you were Juliette or Dominique, wouldn’t you have forgiven me for my faux-pas by now?”

  Margot shook her head. “That’s impossible to say, because I’m neither of them. I’m your wife.”

  “If I were Juliette, I would have forgiven me,” Claire said. “I mean it. I know her. I’m pretty sure that, by now, it hurts her much more to still hate me than it would to just give me a call, tell me she has forgiven me, and ask me for my help already.”

  “Please don’t ask me to speak to Nadia again.”

  “It’s weird how your friendship with Nadia has survived my rift with Juliette.”

  “I don’t think it’s weird at all. Nadia and I work together and we were friends long before you and I met.”

  “I really don’t know how you can compartmentalise your feelings so easily.”

  “Try working in the ER for a few days.”

  Claire nodded. Before her forced hiatus from work, she had never been as aware of her wife’s profession. She knew what Margot did, and that it often took a toll on her when she was unable to save someone, but she’d never really had the time to actually contemplate what it meant to be a trauma surgeon. Claire had taken the habit of stopping by Saint-Vincent a few times a week to bring Margot lunch, and just being there more often had given her a deeper sense of what Margot’s work actually consisted of.

  Her leave of absence hadn’t been a complete nightmare for that reason as well. She and Margot had grown closer together again.

  She hadn’t lost everything, as she had expected. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t want Juliette back in her life. Either way, she’d need to wait a few more weeks before she could approach her former best friend.

  Meanwhile, she had a birthday party to arrange.

  Solange

  “How does this really make you feel?” Solange asked for the third time already. She knew she was being unfair—perhaps even gunning for a fight with Aurore.

  “How many times do I have to repeat myself?” Aurore was taking the bait more and more these days. Solange knew that this meant she was starting to get sick of Solange’s insecurities. “It’s bad enough that I can’t say anything about this in public, but to have to be interrogated by my own partner…” Aurore sagged into the sofa. “I took my distance from Rivière. For you. I would think that was more than enough.”

  “It must give you some sort of inward glee that she’s doing so well.”

  “I’m warning you.” Aurore quickly cast a glance at her, then looked away. “I know you’re upset, but what do you want me to say?”

  Solange tried the trick that Aurore had taught her. She took a deep breath in, then a slow breath out, all the while focusing on the words: in with calmness, out with frustration.

  “I guess I want someone to tell me t
hat everything’s going to be all right.”

  “You’re in politics, babe. If there’s one guarantee, it’s that there are zero guarantees. But no matter what happens, of course everything will be all right. It’s not a matter of life and death. Even if the unthinkable were to happen, you’ll land on your feet.”

  “You know what’s the hardest about all of this?” Solange got up from the windowsill where she’d been perching. “I actually like Anne Rivière. She has blown me away with her political skill, general awareness of the problems this country has and what to do about them. She could so easily win this election.”

  “Come here.” Aurore patted the sofa cushion next to her.

  Solange sat.

  “I know Rivière is kind of awe-inspiring. And she sure knows how to rise to the occasion. But she won’t win. Because she doesn’t have you fighting in her corner.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say, but—”

  “No buts.” Aurore kissed her temple.

  “I’m sorry for having a go at you.”

  “You need some urgent stress release,” Aurore said. “For at least forty-five minutes, your mind needs to be off this campaign.”

  “How about forty-five years?” Solange said.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m serious.” Solange could already see the arousal in Aurore’s glance—that sign that she was past the point of no return—but she couldn’t go to that place quite yet. “If Dominique loses, I’m quitting politics.”

  “Really?” Aurore pursed her lips.

  “It’s too hard. I’ve given everything I have to the party. I’ve not had a social life for decades. My entire existence revolves around my work.” She paused. “That’s one thing being with you has made me see. That there’s more to life than politics. You have shown me that.”