French Kissing- Season Four

by Harper Bliss

  Steph shook her head. “No, you don’t. Not mine, anyway.”

  Solange sighed but didn’t reply.

  “I can set up a meeting between Anne and the president,” Aurore said.

  “We don’t need you to set up meetings for the president.” Impatience grew in Solange’s voice. “If the president wants to talk to Madame Rivière, she will summon her to the Elysée.”

  Aurore caught Steph rolling her eyes.

  “You know what? This is going nowhere. This meeting is over.” Steph rose. “I’ll walk you out, Aurore.” She turned to Solange. “I’m sure you have much better things to do than babysit me on this walk.”

  “I swear to you, that woman drives me crazy,” Steph said as soon as Solange was out of ear shot.

  “I can easily see that.” They walked through the surprisingly silent corridors of the Elysée. “I didn’t mean to antagonise you. I’m well aware of Dominique’s political predicament and I would really love to help. As I said, the only thing that matters to me is the bill.”

  “As you just witnessed, my hands are pretty tied. Solange will surely remind me next time I see her that I’m not the one with a mandate given to her by the public, Dominique is.” Steph heaved a sigh. “But some ultra-conservative old-fashioned MLR fart is going to use this to challenge Dominique to primaries, and that’s even before she has to go out and battle the likes of Rivière and Marechal. I would really like to spare her from that.”

  “And yourself.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Do you have time to grab a coffee some time? Maybe we can have a more informal chat. Not about the bill, of course. Not without the nanny.” She briefly touched her hand to Steph’s shoulder. “She’s quite something.”

  “You might have noticed I’m not Solange’s favourite person.”

  “She’s probably just jealous because you get to share the president’s bed and she only gets to talk shop with her.”

  Steph huffed out a chuckle. “God no. Solange is one of those rare human beings who do not suffer from emotions. She’s all business all the time.”

  “I really don’t think that’s possible.” An idea popped into Aurore’s head—an idea she was not ready to share with Steph.

  “To answer your question, I would love to have coffee with you. It will need to be somewhere private, though,” Steph said.

  “Come to my place,” Aurore offered.

  “It’s not as simple as that—nothing is anymore, it seems.” Steph managed a weak smile. “If a pap snaps me going to Aurore Seauve’s house… imagine the headline in Le Matin the next day.”

  “First lady meets scandalous sex expert,” Aurore said between giggles. The only way to deal with absurdity of this scale was to laugh at it.

  “I’ll figure something out,” Steph said.

  “Thank you for inviting me, Steph. The meeting might not have been all we hoped for, but I appreciate the gesture.” She paused to smile. “If Solange were here, I’m sure she would clear her throat and say something along the lines of politics being all about gestures. I mean, I may have to stand for office myself, having become such a politician all of a sudden.” She touched Steph’s arm again, wanting to convey her sympathy for the first lady and her curtailed freedoms.

  “She means well. If only she could find a better way of going about it.”

  “I’m sure, in the end, we all mean well.”

  “But in the meantime, the game of politics needs to be played,” Steph said wistfully.

  Dominique

  “How did it go with, er, what’s her name?” Dominique racked her brain. So many names, so little space in her mind to remember them.

  “Aurore Seauve,” Solange said. “Nothing really happened. I mean, um…” She paused.

  “It’s okay, Solange. Tell me what Stéphanie said.”

  “In my opinion, she went too far. Spoke out of turn. She was quite rude to me, but that’s fine. Nothing I’m not used to. The meeting ended not long after that. Stéphanie displayed no desire to talk any further with Madame Seauve while I was present.”

  Solange usually kept her hostile feelings for Steph under wraps. But it wasn’t in Dominique’s job description to make sure her chief of staff, who hadn’t met Steph under the best of circumstances, and Steph got along. They were both adults and could figure out their grievances between themselves—or not. As long as she didn’t have to deal with any of it. She had bigger fish to fry.

  When Dominique didn’t fill the silence, Solange said, “We have to come up with a plan of action soon. We still haven’t reacted to the news of the bill. We should do so sooner rather than later.”

  “I know. I was hoping this meeting would have provided some inspiration. My father has been on my case to call a party meeting to define our stance. Some old crocodiles are getting restless, lest a lesbian woman might acquire the right to get pregnant in her own country. I swear to you, Solange, sometimes I think I’m in the wrong party.” Dominique quickly followed up with a chuckle. These were things best not said out loud, especially to a staunch MLR loyalist like Solange.

  “Was there anything else?” Solange said matter-of-factly.

  “Yes.” Dominique gave in to a spur-of-the-moment idea. “There is actually. The next free evening I have, you should come to dinner. You, Steph and I will share a good bottle of wine. I think it will do all three of us a world of good.”

  “Yes, Madam President.” Solange said it as though she had just been demoted to the lowest post in the Elysée.

  “Only if you feel like it, of course.” Dominique goaded her. If only she knew what she and Steph had been saying behind her back. She really shouldn’t talk about her chief of staff like that, even if it was all just said in jest.

  “Of course.” Solange turned for the door. They both knew she had no choice in the matter.

  As she watched Solange exit her office, Dominique relished the only tiny abuse of power she would ever allow herself. Coaxing Solange Garceau out of her shell—if only a tiny fraction.

  “You got on the wrong side of Solange again,” Dominique said as she unhooked her earrings. In the reflection of the mirror, she glanced at Steph, who was already in bed. She was staring at her phone intently.

  “What else is new?”

  “I invited her to dinner.”

  This made Steph look up from her phone. “When?”

  “One of these days. We all have to eat, no matter how busy we get.”

  “Are you expecting me to be at this dinner?” Steph put her phone away and caught Dominique’s glance in the mirror.

  “Oh yes. As your president, I command you.”

  Steph chuckled. “What a night of relaxed fun and games that will be.” She tilted her head and smiled at Dominique. “Will we or will we not find out something about Solange Garceau’s closely guarded private life? Does she have a private life or does she sleep in some dark, quiet corner of the Elysée? Is she, perhaps, in the building right now?”

  Dominique turned and walked over to the bed. “We wouldn’t be in the Elysée if it weren’t for Solange.”

  “Nor would Solange be here if it weren’t for you.” Steph held out her hand. Ah, the comfort of the out-stretched hand after Dominique came home in the evening, when she walked into this bedroom and found Steph waiting for her—sometimes sleeping, but being a night owl, usually awake and up for a chat and a cuddle.

  “I’m not so sure of that.”

  “What are you saying? That you need her more than she needs you?”

  “She’s my secret weapon.”

  “And I believed that was me.” Steph tugged at Dominique’s hand and pulled her close.

  “You are my one true love. My scandalous lesbian lover. My incredibly hot soon-to-be wife.” Dominique straddled Steph and looked her in the eye. “If I should be so lucky.”

  “Just for my information, if we were ever to get married, would Solange be your witness?”

  Dominique chuckled. “Non, chérie. Be
cause that would be a sure-fire way of making you say no just when I got you as far as the altar.” She leaned in to kiss Steph on the lips. Those lips. When Dominique allowed herself a moment of relaxation during her busy days, closed her eyes and let random thoughts flood her mind, Steph’s lips and the delightful sensation of a kiss were often one of them.

  Steph withdrew from the kiss. Dominique tried to catch her lips again, but Steph wouldn’t let her.

  “I just had an idea,” Steph said.

  “Is that why you don’t want to kiss me anymore?” Dominique stole a quick peck on the cheek.

  “I was reading Aurore Seauve’s Wikipedia page. She does so much more than host a weekly radio show about the broadest sex-related topics.”

  “Clearly. She’s a socialist activist advising Anne Rivière.”

  “Yes, but on top of that she was awarded an Order of Merit medal for her work in sexual health education. She has written two books and participated in many advisory committees on STD prevention.”

  “Surely she must have gained that award when the socialists were in power.”

  “Oh, of course. The MLR has to maintain its chaste and prudish image at all times, of course.”

  “What was your idea? And why are you thinking about Aurore Seauve when I’m kissing you?” Dominique started unbuttoning her blouse.

  “When Solange comes to dinner, we should invite Aurore as well.”

  “Why?”

  “I think it could be very interesting.”

  Dominique sat up a little straighter. “You want to invite a socialist—an advisor of the very députée gunning for my job, no less—to dinner at the Elysée?”

  “It would be a private dinner. Party politics would have nothing do with it.”

  “That’s very sweet and naive of you, chérie.” Dominique tried hard not to sound condescending.

  “This isn’t the previous century, babe. Cross-party cooperation doesn’t have to be so hidden anymore.”

  “What are you really trying to accomplish?” Steph was anything but naive, despite what Dominique had just said.

  “Do you trust me?” Steph asked.

  When she asked it like that, looking up at Dominique, with that irresistible glint in her eye, Dominique could only nod. After the day she’d had, she had no more resistance left anyway, not that she ever had a lot when it came to Stéphanie Mathis.

  “I’m just following my instinct.”

  “Your instinct is what got you here, trapped between my legs.” Dominique leaned in again, let her lips hover next to Steph’s ear.

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Steph pulled her close and let her tongue slip inside Dominique’s mouth.

  Steph

  “Why is Aurore Seauve coming here?” Claire asked.

  “Because, frankly, I don’t know where else to meet her without having a big brouhaha made about it,” Steph said.

  “Fair enough. Are you discussing the bill?” Claire leaned against the doorframe. She looked good, as though being engaged to be married was agreeing with her. Maybe Steph should quiz her about that, try to find out what the prospect of marriage really did to a person. But, these days, it was a small miracle to not have Claire talk about her upcoming nuptials and to engage her in a conversation about anything else, so Steph held her tongue.

  “Not necessarily. I will be inviting her to dinner at the Elysée, however.”

  “Oh really. To what does she owe that honour?”

  “Do I detect a hint of jealousy? We’ll have the founding partners of Barbier & Cyr, significant others included, over again soon, I promise.”

  “It has been a while, Steph. Sometimes it feels as though your new status makes you forget about your old friends.” Claire said it with a smile on her face.

  Steph chuckled at the comment. “I actually really like her. Solange will be coming to dinner as well and Aurore knows how to get under her skin. I need her by my side. I can’t solely count on myself or Dominique to break the ice when the ice queen visits our private quarters.”

  “Is Solange still giving you a hard time?”

  “She’s just…” Steph picked her words carefully. “Rather disrespectful to me. As if the only person she respects is Dominique. I don’t know. Sometimes I think I have her figured out, that she’s this robotic lackey sent by the party to keep an eye on Dominique, but Dominique would never accept that. She has a lot of mutual respect for Solange, and I’m caught somewhere in the middle, left not knowing what to think of her most of the time.”

  “If you ask me, Solange needs to get a load off.” Claire waggled her eyebrows. “You know what I mean?”

  Steph grinned. “Let’s not go there.”

  Then Steph’s phone rang and Aurore’s arrival was announced.

  Aurore laughed that hearty laugh of hers. “Me?” she said between chuckles. “You want me to have dinner with you, the president and her uptight chief of staff, because, truly, Madame Garceau gives a whole new meaning to the word uptight. A broomstick up her backside doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

  Steph nodded. It was difficult not to get caught up in Aurore’s infectious glee. Perhaps that was what drew Steph to her so much. Her utter lack of self-consciousness. The breath of fresh air she represented in Steph’s hyper-controlled life.

  “I think it’s a ludicrous idea, but I won’t say no, of course.” Her voice lowered in pitch. “Looks like I’m becoming an Elysée regular.” She fixed her dark, sparkling gaze on Steph. “Should I check the mail for an invitation embossed in gold?”

  Steph liked her irreverence most of all. And the newness of her. Apart from Zoya, she hadn’t made a new friend in ages. Perhaps, if Solange had been a different kind of person, Steph could have befriended her after moving into the Elysée, but she and Solange would never be friends, no matter how much Dominique wanted them to get along.

  “Thank you. And no, this verbal invitation is all you’re getting.”

  “How is one supposed to dress for such a lavish occasion?”

  “I’ll be wearing something like this.” Steph waved her hand over her blazer. “Solange will be wearing her usual black-and-white penguin uniform. I’ve never seen the merest hint of colour on her. Dominique probably won’t notice what you’re wearing. Her priorities have somewhat shifted away from the sartorial. She wears a variation on the same thing every day.”

  “But she wears it well.”

  Steph smiled. “It used to be different. She used to fret over what to wear, until she realised that none of her male predecessors ever spent any energy on futile things like that. Now she doesn’t care anymore.”

  “Sounds like the presidency has made her grow as a person.” The skin around Aurore’s eyes crinkled when she smiled.

  This was exactly why Steph wanted to have her over for dinner. This ability to speak her mind, no matter the subject or circumstances.

  Aurore looked around Steph’s office. Steph had been upgraded to a much larger, brighter space after becoming partner at the firm—and first lady.

  “Swanky digs. Surely beats a cosy coffee place.”

  “This is as private as it’s going to get for us, I’m afraid.”

  Aurore nodded. “It’s great to see your place of work.” She folded her features into a more serious expression. “I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you before, but despite belonging to different parties, I greatly admire Dominique.”

  “I heard you talk about her on your show.”

  “I’ll never forget that image of her with her hand raised when the Assemblée voted for same-sex marriage. It might have shocked some, but I believe it’s what got her elected in the end. In that moment, she bridged the divide between left and right.”

  “Which is much easier to do when you’re not president.”

  “What about you, Steph? I watched that interview Zoya did with you again. I’d seen it before when it came out. But I looked at it with different eyes this time. I could read between the lines m
ore.”

  “What did you see when you watched it this time?”

  Aurore leaned back in her seat. “Now that I’ve met you, and I sense what kind of person you are, I can so easily guess all the things you didn’t say in that interview. It makes me wonder how Dominique reacted to it.”

  Christ. Steph hadn’t felt so understood since the first few sessions with Marion, her counsellor. “You and me both.”

  “How do you mean?”

  In fact, this was beginning to feel more like a counselling session than coffee with a new friend. “She’s busy. We watched it together, but she must have gotten called away during or not long after and we never really discussed it that much since.”

  “Is it hard? Being first lady?”

  Steph chuckled. “Are you trying to interview me again?”

  Aurore held up her hands. “I can’t seem to help myself when I’m with you. I find you such a fascinating character. Therefore, you can’t really blame me.”

  Steph wondered whether Aurore’s obvious interest in her played a part in her instant liking of Aurore. Usually anyone she met only showed interest in her more important partner. It had been the same with Zoya, who, being from Australia, hadn’t been that star-struck when she’d met Dominique, and had shown equal enthusiasm towards her. Zoya who had persuaded her to be interviewed. Not that Steph didn’t get interview requests all the time, but Zoya’s had been different. Truth be told, Steph knew that Zoya had stroked her ego just enough and in the right manner to get her to agree. A delicate balancing act few people succeeded in, because it couldn’t be glaringly obvious nor too discreet. In the end, it boiled down to genuine interest, something Steph had always been good at detecting in people. Something Aurore was displaying now as well.

  In the spirit of recognising this, Steph decided to give Aurore the most honest answer she could muster. “Most of the time, it’s not hard, because I get to be with the woman I love. Which has been a journey in itself. Meeting Dominique. Realising I had real feelings for her. Deciding to give it a go and the fall-out of that. The presidency. It has been far from easy, but definitely worth it. And no, I’m not a sucker for punishment or anything like that, but I do believe the journey is its own reward.” Steph paused. “Dominique changed me. Fundamentally so. For better or for worse, I don’t know. I don’t judge myself like that. But being with her is worth the step back I’ve had to take in my own career, even my own life. Because, to me, it doesn’t feel like a step back, as long as I feel like I’m walking in step with her. Does that make sense?”