by Harper Bliss
Numbers were uneven, so Zoya had discreetly removed a plate from the table and positioned herself at the head so the rest could evenly spread out. Camille sat to her left and Nadia to her right. Steph sat between Solange and Camille and Solange had Aurore sitting across from her. The curry was going down well. None of them, even Solange, seemed to mind a bit of spice.
Now that the food had been served, Zoya could finally relax. The wine had done its bit as well.
She had missed most of the conversation while she put the final touches to her dish in the kitchen and it took her a while to catch up. They were speaking in French and as far as Zoya understood, Camille was being frank about her work situation.
Zoya cleared her throat. “Any chance you can throw some English words in there, honey? For all I know, you’re slagging me off like nobody’s business.”
Camille brought a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, darling.” She addressed the table. “Everyone, if you don’t mind, let’s switch to English. Unless you want to say something uncouth about Zoya.”
Zoya lifted her hand and waved it about. “Please, don’t switch to English entirely. I need to learn more French.”
“This is delicious,” Aurore said in English. “I haven’t had this good a curry since I was actually in India.”
“Thank you. It’s my grandmother’s recipe,” Zoya said. “But please continue your conversation. Were you talking about Duflot?” She looked at Camille.
Camille nodded. “I was just saying that what he’s doing could be seen as sexual harassment. If his actions are motivated by my sexual orientation and my gender, doesn’t that automatically make it sexual harassment ?”
“Of course it does,” Aurore said.
“There are very clear laws against such a thing,” Solange, whose voice Zoya had barely heard all evening, said. “As well as government institutions that can help you with this. You are not alone, Camille. It’s very important that you know this.”
“I do know.” Camille put a hand on Zoya’s arm. “Zoya and I are working with a lawyer who is preparing a case against him. I’m gathering evidence. It shouldn’t be long now.”
“Every day is one too many,” Solange said. There was a strange hiccup in her voice.
“Are you okay?” Aurore asked.
“Yes.” Solange squared her shoulders. “This is one of the reasons I admire Dominique so much. Because she hasn’t only defied the odds, she has defied all the men who never wanted her to become president. And believe me, when a woman rises to the top, some men will go to great lengths to stop her. I know all about that myself.”
“You’re her second in command,” Nadia said. “You must have had your fair share of bullies along the way.”
Solange nodded. “Which is why I vowed to become more powerful than any man who has ever tried to stand in my way. I think it’s also one of the reasons Dominique didn’t want a male chief of staff. Well, Laroche senior thinks he’s in charge, obviously, but it’s best to just let him think his self-glorifying thoughts.”
“I’ve yet to come across a woman who has never been… inappropriately propositioned by a man who thinks he can get away with it just because he’s a man,” Claire said. “Times have changed significantly since we first started Barbier & Cyr, but the things we had to hear when we just started. Two women running a PR firm? With no man at the helm to guide them? We’ve certainly lost clients because of it, but then again, those were people and companies we never wanted to work with in the first place.”
“We’ve gained a lot of clients because of who we are as well,” Juliette said.
“And luckily times have changed,” Margot said. “I was one of two women when I did my surgical residency. This year’s group of residents at Saint-Vincent is split pretty evenly.”
“It’s about time women started running the world. Clearly, men have had the reins for too long, and have not done a good job of it,” Aurore said.
“We mustn’t make men obsolete. But all the old ones have to go. The new generation of men will hopefully be different,” Camille said. “I have raised my son as a feminist. I like to believe he respects women. And I never forbade Flo to do anything her brother was allowed to because she was a girl and vice versa.” She sighed. “Of course, their father didn’t set the best of examples when it came to using women for his pleasure…”
“We’re all women in jobs with a certain status. What’s happening to Camille right now has happened to all of us to some degree while we fought to obtain our position. It’s a given. I can only hope the women who come after us will have it easier.” Zoya paused. “I am of course referring to my previous means of employment when I say I had a job with status.”
“Do I sense some discontent with your current job?” Juliette asked.
“At least I don’t get harassed. And being a foreign correspondent, my interviewees know in advance that they’ll be addressed in English. I try to throw in a phrase in broken French once in a while, to charm them. That usually works.” Zoya grinned at Juliette.
“I can honestly say I’ve never been—how did you call that, Nadz?—inappropriately propositioned at work.” Steph said. “Working at Barbier & Cyr has a great deal to do with that. Of course I got actual death treats after Dominique and I came out of the closet. And the Tous Ensemble people would like to have me for breakfast.” She shrugged. “It’s a given that you get threatened when you’re a public figure coming out of the closet.”
“At least Dominique showed everyone and became president regardless,” Aurore said. “Big changes usually happen slowly.”
“Annoyingly slowly,” Juliette said.
“How many men work at Barbier & Cyr?” Zoya asked, no longer able to curb her curiosity.
“Hm,” Claire said. “Let me think.”
“Five,” Juliette said. “Three of them are gay.”
“What about the clients?”
Claire quirked up her eyebrows and paused to think. “Roughly estimated, I think about half and half. But we do deal with assistants a lot, and most of the assistants we talk to are female. Most support jobs—often to males—are still occupied by women. As though it’s so unthinkable that a male CEO would ever have a male assistant.”
“Or it’s below men to apply for such a position,” Aurore said.
“Men have always had better access to higher education, which is why they hold the higher-up positions. Luckily, that’s changing as well,” Camille said.
“And high-up women can be just as bitchy and willing to abuse their power as men,” Nadia said.
“Hear, hear,” Aurore said. “When a woman wants to make it to the top, she has to deal with the men and the women who are envious of her. Men make it so much easier for themselves in that regard. The old boys’ network is still very effective. And the new boys’ one as well.”
“Yet, here we are, nine accomplished women sitting around a table. No bitchiness and not a man in sight.” Steph held up her glass. She turned to look at Solange, who, with rigid movements, clinked her glass against Steph’s. Soon, they all joined in a toast.
After the murmurs and clinking of glasses died down, Zoya cleared her throat.
“I’ve been thinking about going into PR,” she said. “Seeing as we have a few PR mavens gathered here tonight, I wanted to pick your brain.”
“Really?” Steph was the first to react. “Do you mean Zoya Das of The Zoya Das Show is available for Barbier & Cyr to acquire?”
Zoya had to keep her mouth from falling open. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“Steph has been dreaming of making you an offer ever since you went to see her and Dominique in Juan-les-Pins that time,” Juliette said.
“A journalist of your calibre would be an asset to any PR firm,” Claire said.
“Okay, let’s try to at least get the facts straight,” Steph said. “Unlike what my esteemed boss just said, I have not been dreaming of it for that long. But I did see the possibility. The reason why I didn’t ask you
sooner is, well, to be honest, my own preoccupations, for starters, but also the fact that I wanted to see how things went for you here first. Working at Barbier & Cyr is fun and rewarding and, as we just discussed, it’s a very female-friendly environment, but there’s also a lot of pressure. Our client base has evolved since the elections.”
“With Steph only working half-time and me having scaled back, we are hiring,” Juliette said. “We’re constantly hiring these days, or so it seems.”
“We’re growing,” Claire said and examined Zoya’s face. “You should come in for a chat.”
“I did come in to interview you a few days ago,” Zoya joked.
“Ditch the interview and come with different intentions this time,” Claire said. “I’m convinced we can work something out.”
“Are you serious?” Zoya asked. “I was just hoping to get some pointers on how to get a foot in the door in the sector. I certainly never dreamed of scoring an interview right off the bat.”
“That’s life for you,” Steph said. “Sometimes things don’t go your way, and sometimes they really do.”
“Well then.” Zoya was stumped for words. “Is everyone ready for dessert?”
Aurore
The more wine she drank, the more Aurore’s gaze drifted to Solange. She had on part of her usual uniform—a starched white blouse—but was also wearing jeans like the other night.
Solange didn’t appear totally at ease, but she didn’t look as though she was going to bolt for the door any minute either. Now that the shock of seeing her here had worn off, Aurore thought it was time to truly test Solange.
“To get back to a previous topic,” she said. “How about we talk about the greatest inequality of all.” She tried to hold Solange’s gaze, but it skittered away.
“What’s that then?” Camille asked, an amused grin on her lips.
“The female orgasm, of course.”
“Oh, of course,” Camille replied. “This is Aurore’s preferred topic of conversation with the pousse-café. Before you start, Aurore, let me take orders.”
While Camille poured whiskey for Nadia and Zoya, cognac for the Barbier & Cyr ladies—Steph included—and Amaretto for Solange and her, Aurore kept her eye on Solange to see if what she had said would prompt her to want to make a run for it. It seemed that either she was keen to prove to Steph that she was willing to give a hesitant friendship a try, or she was truly enjoying herself. Or—and Aurore was reluctant to allow herself this thought, but the pousse-café was being poured, and why the hell wouldn’t she, anyway?—maybe Solange had stayed this long because she was enjoying everyone’s company, and Aurore’s in particular.
“Camille, you’re the perfect example of what I’m trying to say.” Aurore fixed her gaze on her friend. “How much importance did your ex-husband attach to your pleasure? Did it ever even occur to him to put it before his?” It was a rhetorical question. Camille didn’t need to reply. “We may have made leaps and bounds when it comes to general equality, but when you scratch the surface even a little bit, you’ll soon find that many women are not equal to their counterparts—and this includes their husbands—just yet. In sexuality especially, everything is geared towards the male organ and orgasm. Do you know how many men are convinced that women reach climax through penetration alone? Doesn’t that make you want to hang your head and cry?”
Aurore looked at her audience. Half of these women she had just met for the first time. She could only hope they sometimes listened to her radio show and knew what she was all about. “You’re all lesbians. You all probably come like nobody’s business. Because there’s no man in your bed who believes all it takes is for him to stick his penis in your vagina.”
“Ahem.” Solange cleared her throat.
“Oh yes, so sorry, Solange. I was generalising. And I should know better by now than to call you a lesbian.”
“Does that mean Solange doesn’t know how to come like nobody’s business?” Steph said, a wicked grin on her face.
“Some of us don’t like to discuss our sex life with a bunch of people they barely know,” Solange said curtly.
“Fair enough.” Steph seemed to have mellowed as the evening progressed. Perhaps she was impressed that Solange had stayed this long.
“You remind me of a friend of mine back home, Aurore,” Zoya said. “When Caitlin comes over for a visit, I should definitely introduce you two.”
“That should make for fun times,” Camille added.
Aurore tried to smile as warmly as possible. She wasn’t on the radio tonight. She had eight pairs of eyes on her. “I would love to meet a like-minded soul, of course.” She was dying to get on with her discourse. “As Camille knows, I have slept with my fair share of women who identify as heterosexual. This is by no means me boasting about my sexual prowess, because it doesn’t have much to do with it either way, but do you have any idea how many of them simply have no idea what an orgasm feels like? Isn’t that just the saddest thing? These women are not uneducated and certainly not stupid. They’ve just gotten older, safe in the knowledge that their pleasure is of no, or at the very least, of lesser importance. I, frankly, find it infuriating.”
“It is infuriating,” Steph said. “But let’s not lump all straight or formerly straight women into the same unknowing group. Dominique, for one, knew exactly what she wanted and how, from the very first time we slept together.”
“She’s the president. She’s hors catégorie,” Aurore said.
“And you’ve made it your mission to teach as many straight women how to come? In person?” Solange said, her voice shrill.
Camille chuckled.
“No, of course not, but it’s a powerful thing when you make someone climax for the first time in their life.” Aurore felt a hot blush creep up her cheeks.
“Aren’t orgasms supposed to be mostly in our heads?” Nadia asked.
Aurore nodded. “The female orgasm is a powerful but complex thing.”
“So what you’re saying,” Solange said, her tone low but harsh, “is that any woman who has difficulties orgasming should go to bed with another woman? Preferably with you.”
Aurore imagined puffs of steam escaping her ears as she tried to come to grips with this conversation. She shook her head. “That’s absolutely not what I’m saying.”
“Er, I don’t have a recording of what you just said, so I can’t replay it, but that’s very much what it sounded like to me.” Solange looked around the table for support.
“I think what Aurore’s trying to say is that there is still a lot of inequality between women and men when it comes to pleasure in the bedroom,” Steph said.
“Another example is all the men who don’t have the first clue of what two women could ever get up to in bed together without a penis. They come at it from their own experience,” Claire said. “The media doesn’t exactly help.”
“Claire tends to shout at the television when they show unrealistic sex scenes. You know, simultaneous orgasms and all that. I tell her it’s just TV. It’s just make-believe,” Margot said.
“That’s exactly what it is. Make-believe. But we mustn’t forget the enormous impact television has on our lives. If we could start by showing a few more men go down on women instead of just shoving it in after one second of foreplay, and having the women moan with pleasure after thirty seconds of pumping, that would make a big difference,” Claire said.
“You make an excellent point,” Aurore said. “I write to the heads of programming of all TV stations every year, asking them to consider this when they select their content. It’s more of a token action to raise awareness, because they can hardly select shows that don’t exist.” Aurore glanced at Solange. She sat there straight-backed, her lips pursed together, very much looking as though she was contemplating a swift exit.
“It’s getting late,” Juliette said. “We should talk about something a bit more cheerful than how women are still inferior to men. This is starting to depress me.”
“Th
ank goodness that we are, despite all the propaganda to the contrary, the stronger sex,” Nadia said. “We can take it and we will never stop fighting.”
“Please excuse me.” Solange pushed her chair away and headed for the bathroom.
Steph titled her head sideways. “I think the chief of staff is ready for a change of topic as well. But I must say, I’m impressed she has stayed this long.”
“I’ll have a word with her. See how’s she’s feeling.” Aurore excused herself and waited for Solange in the hallway.
“Hey,” Aurore said when Solange exited the bathroom. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She held the door open for Aurore.
Aurore closed it and said, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in there. It wasn’t my intention.”
“You didn’t. I can handle myself, even among hardcore left-wing lesbians.” A small smile played on Solange’s lips. “Speaking of, have you made a decision about having the president on your show yet? I need to know by Monday.”
“Then I will call you on Monday, unless…” Aurore inched closer. “We see each other before then.”
“Why would we do that?” Solange’s tone of voice wasn’t congruent with her words.
“If I could possibly persuade you to another hardcore left-wing dinner. Tomorrow. At my place.”
Solange shook her head. “No. One per weekend is plenty. And I’m sure Steph’s friends are pussycats compared to whom you hang out with.”
“None of my friends would be there. It would just be the two of us.”
Solange took a step back and examined Aurore’s face. “I see what you’re trying to do. Whatever your spiel, it’s not going to work on me. I may be straight, but I won’t be one of your causes.” She scoffed. “You can put that idea out of your head right here and now.”
“No need to go on the defensive. Besides, we would just talk about the possible interview. I’ve had an idea. I would like to discuss it with you. In private.”
“Then why don’t you come to my office first thing on Monday?”