Season Five: French Kissing, Book 5

by Harper Bliss

  “If you’d said that to me before I had this one”—Adèle wrapped her tiny fists around Inez’ fingers—“I would have wholeheartedly agreed, but things are very different now.”

  “You’re still the same doctor.”

  Inez shook her head. “I still do as good a job, but my career is not my entire life anymore. This one comes first.”

  “Yes, well, being married to Claire Cyr is much like having a child around sometimes.” Margot ventured a rare joke. “That woman is more of a handful than that baby, actually.”

  Inez snickered. “For what it’s worth, Claire adores you.”

  It was strange hearing those words from Inez’ mouth.

  “Rightly so, of course,” Inez added. “Now that everything’s hunky-dory between us, I can see how you two make a great couple.”

  “It hasn’t always been that way.”

  “I’m pretty sure that can be said for every great couple,” Inez said.

  “She’s anxious to get back to work.”

  “I’m sure she is. Being a doctor’s wife can only be fulfilling up to a certain point. What is she going to do?”

  “It all depends on Juliette and Steph.”

  “And on the election.”

  “Yes.” Margot suppressed a groan. “God, I hope they can all pull it together and get Dominique re-elected.”

  “And that Claire makes up with Steph so I can take my daughter to the Elysée. Show Adèle her future workplace.” Inez chuckled and turned Adèle around. “Did you hear that, darling? In about forty to fifty years’ time, you’ll be fighting the fight of your life. Adèle Larue for president.”

  When they’d first met, Margot and Inez had bonded over being MLR supporters, long before someone as progressive as Dominique Laroche was put front and centre of the party. Inez’ family had a long history of MLR membership and Margot was brought up with the same values. At times, when they were still together, it had felt as though she and Inez were the only MLR supporters in their circle of friends—probably because they were.

  “Pity she can’t vote yet,” Margot said. “I think Dominique will need all the votes she can get.”

  Aurore

  “The ratings are down again,” Marc, the producer of Aurore’s radio show, said.

  “But the podcast downloads are up?” She asked hopefully.

  “Not really.” Marc sighed. “Will you not reconsider? Ever since that spike in listenership after Laroche and Rivière were on, we’ve never recovered. That was years ago. It’s been all downhill since then.”

  “Don’t ask me that. You know it’s impossible.”

  “It would be the perfect time for it,” Marc insisted.

  “They’re doing a debate on national television this weekend. Why on earth would they even consider coming on my show?” Aurore didn’t even know why she was arguing about this.

  “It all depends on how that debate goes. You don’t need to have them both on. One of them would be plenty.”

  “I can’t pick sides, Marc. That’s exactly what it would look like.”

  “I’m just saying”—he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose—“and I’m saying this with all respect due to an icon like you, Aurore, but I’m not sure how much longer we can keep the show going. Not in today’s ever-changing media landscape. We need something big. Something to put us back on the map again.”

  “That may be so, but it can’t be political. I’m neutral. I have to be.”

  “I don’t mean to imply anything, but our audience hasn’t exactly been buoyed since you’ve become neutral.”

  Aurore snickered. “Good job of not trying to imply anything.”

  “Ultimately, it’s your show and your decision.”

  “Maybe…” Aurore had never voiced this particular thought to her producer. “Maybe the time has come for Sexualité Aujourd’hui to go off the air and exist only online.”

  “Maybe, but…” Marc looked her straight in the eye. “It would be the end of an era. This show has broken down so many boundaries. I daresay it has even changed some lives…”

  “Times change. We can keep on denying it and try to increase our live audience, or we can adapt.”

  “Something to think about.” Marc rose. “Definitely to be continued. I’ll let you go home now.”

  “It’s actually more relaxing to be here these days.” Aurore got up anyway. She had a good idea of how to get Solange to relax tonight, if she even had the time to come over at all.

  “Hello, sleeping beauty.”

  Aurore blinked her eyes open. She hadn’t heard Solange let herself in.

  She checked the clock. It was past midnight.

  “Goodness me, what are you watching?” Solange sagged next to her on the sofa.

  “Only your favourite TV show.” Aurore pushed herself up a bit. She’d found a channel on YouTube that played Cats’ Eyes, very aware that even she, a woman well above fifty, was now using new technologies as a means of entertainment—just like what was left of her radio audience.

  “I haven’t seen this in ages.” Solange sounded excited.

  “I thought you might enjoy it.” Aurore gave Solange a sideways glance and noticed the pale blue blouse she was wearing. It wasn’t the brightest colour in the world, but at least it wasn’t white. “How are things in the election trenches?”

  “They could be better but they could also be worse,” Solange said cryptically. “It’s too late to talk about it now.” She stared intently at the screen. “This show is partly responsible for us getting together.”

  “I know. It taught me that there was at least a little light-hearted fun to be had with you.”

  Solange nudged her in the shoulder. “You knew that all along.”

  “Did I?”

  Solange didn’t reply anymore. She was transfixed by the images of cats on the television, and the accompanying made-up narrative of their lives. Aurore sat next to her in silence. So much had changed since they’d first watched this show together.

  Juliette

  “It’s Margot’s birthday this weekend,” Nadia said.

  “Is it?” Juliette was reading an email on her phone.

  “You know very well that it is.” Nadia’s hand appeared over the screen of her phone. “Come on. Give it to me.”

  “But I’m reading—”

  “I don’t care if you’re reading the one and only document that will assure Dominique’s victory, I need you to listen to me. This is important.”

  “What is? Margot’s birthday?”

  “She’s having a party. A small dinner party at home. We’ve been invited.”

  “You go. You know I don’t mind.”

  “I said we have been invited, babe.”

  “That may be so, but that doesn’t mean we have to go. I’m too busy, anyway. I’m sure Margot appreciates how hectic things are at the moment.”

  “You have to eat.”

  Juliette scoffed. “This is hardly about eating.”

  “Look, the way I see it, Claire’s extending an olive branch.”

  “Claire has made a habit of extending the proverbial olive branch. Especially because Claire is very good at getting herself into situations where an extended olive branch is needed. It doesn’t mean I have to accept it.”

  “We were talking about this only a few days ago. This could be a good way to… explore.”

  “Explore what?”

  “To test the waters. See if you and Claire can still be in the same room together.”

  Juliette put her phone to the side—she refused to put it in Nadia’s hand. “I don’t understand why Margot would even want this. I thought she was all for relaxed and intimate birthday dinners.”

  “Maybe… what Margot really wants for her birthday is for her wife to have her best friend in her life again.”

  “Former best friend,” Juliette said. “And with good reason.”

  “Why are you being so difficult about this?”

  “You know
why.”

  Nadia sat opposite her. “I thought you were ready for a rapprochement.”

  “I might be in a week or two, Nadz. My mind is elsewhere right now.”

  “Yes, well, Margot’s birthday is this weekend. She can hardly change the date.”

  “Then she will understand why I can’t be there.”

  “You don’t have to give me an answer now, but promise me you’ll think about it.”

  “When would I have time to even think about something like that?”

  “Claire and Margot are not ‘something’. They’re our best friends.”

  “Okay, fine, I promise.” Juliette tilted her head. “On another note, Steph asked me to talk to you about something.”

  “You have Nadia’s blessing,” Juliette said. “As long as you’re completely certain it’s what you want, she explicitly asked me to add.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it then. Let’s set it up,” Steph said.

  “Let’s talk to Solange when we go to the Elysée later.” Juliette sometimes wondered why she still had an office at Barbier & Cyr. She seemed to spend all her time at the Elysée these days.

  “Do we want it to leak before or after the debate?” Steph asked.

  “Before,” Juliette said with conviction. “If we wait until after, accusations of opportunism might be even worse.”

  “You mean if Rivière eats Dominique alive.” The defiant look that Juliette was so used to seeing on Steph’s face had gradually disappeared.

  “I know that she won’t, but it’s safer to do it before. Give the weekend newspapers something to go crazy over. The timing’s good.”

  “And Rivière might very well be too classy to allude to it during the debate.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Juliette chuckled. “Although in our profession it’s a bit naive to count on the classiness of our opponent.”

  “I keep wondering if Rivière has something up her sleeve. Something she’s been saving until the final week.”

  “Dominique has run before and the only significant thing that happened in her private life during her first term was getting engaged to you.”

  Steph nodded.

  “So, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I know, but… well, the agency Rivière’s with. You never know.”

  The agency where Sybille works, Juliette thought. “In politics you never know. We’re doing the best we can. That’s all we can do.”

  “Politics is my private life now…” Steph said.

  “Speaking of…” Juliette paused. “Margot has invited Nadz and me to her birthday party this weekend.”

  Steph quirked up her eyebrows. “Progress.”

  “Nadz really wants me to go, but I have the perfect excuse not to. Well, I have plenty, actually.”

  “Do you want to go?”

  Juliette couldn’t look her friend in the eye and claim there wasn’t a small part of her that wanted to see Claire again. Time had passed. The news about Dominique’s doubts had never got out and the only real casualties of what Claire had done were her friendships with Juliette and Steph.

  “Part of me does.” Juliette pursed her lips. “I’m not that angry with her anymore. I just… miss her. As simple as it sounds, that’s what it comes down to now.”

  “Then go,” Steph said. “See what it feels like. We’re going to need to have a chat with her sooner rather than later, anyway.”

  “Okay.” A flash of something shot through her. Hope? Or was she nervous about coming face-to-face with Claire after all this time? “But first, we have a wedding date to leak.”

  Claire

  “Come here, babe.” Margot beckoned to Claire.

  Claire reluctantly walked over to her wife.

  “Take a few deep breaths.” Margot put her hands on Claire’s shoulders. “It’s going to be all right.”

  “I need a drink.” The nerves raging in Claire’s stomach could only be calmed with a very stiff beverage.

  “I know you’re nervous, but this is what you wanted.”

  “I’m not sure it is. I should have met with her in private instead of using your birthday as an excuse.”

  “You didn’t use my birthday, I did.” Margot let go of Claire’s shoulders. “I’ll pour you some wine.”

  The bell rang. Claire jumped. She hoped it was Inez. She could do with a friend she’d actually been seeing by her side.

  “I’ll get it,” Margot said.

  Claire wondered if friendship had an expiration date. If the kind of friendship she and Juliette had cultivated for decades could last. A friendship so close that rupturing it felt like a knife twisting in her gut. Or had it simply been too intense? Could that be the reason why she had rebelled against it the way she had?

  “It’s Inez,” Margot shouted from the hallway.

  Claire breathed a sigh of relief. This had been a really bad idea. But it was what Margot had wanted for her birthday. It was very obvious what she was trying to accomplish. It was, quite simply, time. The election was about to reach its climax. Claire’s time on the bench was up.

  Inez had barely sat, when the bell rang again. It could only be Nadia and Juliette. Unless Juliette had decided to bail at the last minute. A small part of Claire wished she had. Then again, it was time for some excitement in her life. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t know this moment was coming. It was time for something to change.

  Of all the emotions Claire had expected to crash through her, she hadn’t expected her eyes to well up upon seeing Juliette. She inhaled deeply, hoping the tears would disappear with her exhale.

  Nadia was the first to kiss her on both cheeks. She gave Claire’s arm an encouraging squeeze, as if to say, good luck with the next greeting.

  Juliette’s hair was much shorter these days. She looked tired. Claire should really say something.

  “Jules,” was all she could muster. “You came.”

  Claire knew this was her wife’s birthday dinner, but she wished she and Juliette were alone in the room. She wished they had the opportunity to resolve this rift between them the only way that Claire deemed it possible: by looking into each other’s eyes and knowing that, even after all this time, everything would be okay. Or was that more wishful thinking on Claire’s part?

  “I did.” Juliette looked as though she’d much rather be spending a rare free evening on the sofa with Phénix in her lap. “Good to see you.” Claire could barely feel the kiss Juliette pressed against her cheek.

  “Can we talk in private for a minute?” Claire asked.

  “That’s probably a good idea.” Juliette didn’t look her in the eye, but instead looked to Nadia, who gave a quick nod of understanding.

  Claire led the way to the spare bedroom and closed the door behind them.

  “I wasn’t expecting to end up in a bedroom with you.” Juliette’s voice trembled with nerves.

  “Those days are long gone.” Claire sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you, Jules?”

  Juliette shook her head. “This campaign’s utterly kicking our butt. The debate’s on Sunday and…”

  “How are you holding up?” Claire quickly filled the silence that ensued.

  “I can’t wait for it to be next Sunday, even though I’m not convinced the outcome will be in our favour.”

  “I have a hunch that it will.” Claire didn’t even know why she’d said that. Of course, she followed the campaign closely—which should have given her enough reason to doubt Dominique’s chances of actually winning.

  “You should have been there.” Juliette sat in a chair in the corner of the room. “You should have been there for all of it, Claire. Except, you weren’t. Because you fucked up at the worst possible time. We needed you.”

  “I’m sorry.” What else could she say at this point?

  “I don’t even know how I’ve gotten through the past year. In the beginning, I found myself dialling your extension at the office a dozen times per day, just to get your input. The way we’ve always worked
, without any sort of boundaries… to have that ripped away so abruptly. It exposed some weaknesses in the company, let’s just put it like that.” Juliette blew out some air. “What have you even been doing all this time?”

  Claire was reluctant to say the word to an obviously totally stressed-out Juliette. “Relaxing.”

  “Good for you.” Juliette looked her briefly in the eye.

  “I know it must have been so hard on you, Jules.”

  “I prefer to use the word challenging,” Juliette said matter-of-factly. “In hindsight, it’s obvious that you saw something in Rivière. That’s been playing in the back of my mind all this time. You wouldn’t have approached her if you hadn’t seen her potential.” Juliette slung one leg over the other. “Which doesn’t excuse what you did—on the contrary. We had a candidate. We’ve always had our candidate. I knew when Dominique came to us all those years ago that she wasn’t a natural fit, but she has become that over the years. We were always on her team, even in between campaigns, not only because of Steph, but because she’s our client and our friend.”

  “I can never undo what I did and, trust me, it’s been hard having to follow the campaign from the sidelines,” Claire said. “I know it’s not an excuse, but I was in a bad way. I was restless and I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. I should have taken up some extreme hobby like running ultra-marathons or something, instead of gauging the interest of Dominique’s competition. But when I heard that she might not run, that sparked something in me. I saw an opportunity and I grabbed it. Recklessly, yes. I felt like only something very reckless could make me feel alive again.”

  “Reckless and incredibly selfish.”

  “True,” Claire admitted. “I regret hurting you. I regret putting our friendship on the line. I may have been relaxing, but trust me, my life without you hasn’t been very interesting.”