French Kissing: Season Two

by Harper Bliss

  “Of course. I look forward to meeting you both.”

  “One more thing,” Juliette said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t inform François. I’ll deal with him some other time.” Or never, she added in thought.

  “You got it.” Juliette heard Betty take a deep breath. “Thank you so much for calling, Juliette.”

  “Yes,” was all Juliette said before she hung up. After ringing off she needed to suck in a few deep breaths to steady her nerves. She guessed her blood pressure was the highest it had ever been.

  A knock on the door snapped her out of it.

  “Is this a good time?” Claire asked. Juliette had never heard her ask that before.

  “Sure.”

  Claire shut the door and leaned against it. “Nadia called. Margot is being moved to a private room. Visiting hours have started. I’m going to pop over there in a bit.”

  “That’s great.” It was strange how Juliette, who had never been extremely close with Margot—she was Nadia’s friend and Claire’s on-and-off girlfriend—was so shaken by the doctor’s fate. This morning, when she’d tried to get some sleep, every time she closed her eyes and everything went black, all she saw was that tiny sticker of the Korean flag that had clued her in on who the victim being wheeled into an ambulance was. “Give her my love. I’ll visit her soon. I imagine she’ll be swamped with visitors.”

  Claire took a hesitant step towards Juliette’s desk. “Jules, erm, do we need to talk?”

  “I suppose at some point we should.”

  “Can I sit?” Another first. Claire was definitely not in the habit of asking for permission to sit.

  “Of course, and please just act normal. This grovelling act is getting on my nerves already.”

  Claire pulled up a chair and sighed. “I can say I’m sorry a million times, but it won’t change anything and I think you know how sorry I am,” she started.

  “Actually, I’m not sure I do know, Claire. I mean, what went through your head when you decided to betray me like that?” Juliette’s good intentions were soon flying out of the window. She didn’t consider this her fault in the slightest. “How did it happen, anyway? Please, enlighten me.”

  Claire didn’t immediately reply. Of course, Juliette could easily see how utterly guilt-ridden she was, but what should her response be? To feel sorry for her?

  “I instigated it. I met her last week when I had lunch with Nadia and I was, erm, intrigued by her, I guess. Then things went south with Margot and I contacted her through the hospital.”

  “What I don’t understand, Claire, is that you usually tell me everything, to the tiniest, most intimate detail of your sex life at times, but you didn’t mention that you met Dievart.”

  “I can’t explain it.”

  “Nadia didn’t tell me either,” Juliette blurted out. “Nobody tells me fucking anything.” She puffed out air through her nostrils. “And why can’t you explain? Are you going to tell me next that you were so mesmerised by her appearance that you broke up with Margot and went after her instead? Despite the fact that the woman’s sheer existence nearly cost me my relationship?”

  “I’m—” Claire started, but Juliette was on a roll now.

  “She’s good-looking, sure, but since when does that come before everything else? My partner fell for her advances, Claire. How did you think it would make me feel when the exact same thing happened to my best friend of many, many years?”

  “Admittedly, I wasn’t thinking about you, Jules. It was a completely self-centred act on my part. But, just for the record, nothing happened.”

  “That makes me feel so much better.” Juliette narrowed her eyes. “I bet that was only because your ex’s motorcycle accident interrupted your sleazy rendezvous. If Dievart hadn’t been called away, it would have happened, I assume?”

  Claire actually hung her head. Juliette couldn’t recall her ever doing that before. Then again, she’d never betrayed her best friend like that, either. Juliette could barely stand the sight.

  “I can’t predict how this will affect our friendship in the long run, but the fact is that we’re business partners and, well, I need you, Claire. With everything that’s going on, I can’t lose my best friend right now.”

  “Neither can I,” Claire sniffled.

  “I just made arrangements to visit Bertrand this weekend.” It was strange to pronounce a sentence Juliette had been convinced she would never utter.

  Claire’s moistened eyes grew wide. “You did?”

  “I swore to myself that if Margot made it, I would at least try to approach him.”

  “You’re something else, Jules.” Claire grew more relaxed. “I admire you, you know that?”

  Then admiration must equal betrayal in your world, Juliette thought. “Oh, fuck off.”

  “I mean it.” Claire looked like she did. “I’ve loved you for more than half of my life. First as my girlfriend, then as someone akin to a sister, I guess. Although I think I enjoy your company much more than my own sibling’s.” She threw in a half-chuckle. “Through it all, there’s always been you and me, Jules. And I hope I haven’t fucked that up by doing something stupid in the wake of a broken relationship.”

  “What’s with all the sentimentality?” Juliette knew it was a stupid, lame question, but she was just putting up a front. Claire was more family to her than any of her relatives by blood.

  “Just—” Claire appeared ready to burst out into sniffles again. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

  Juliette waved her off. As far as she was concerned she wasn’t being particularly understanding, but she just didn’t have room in her troubled mind to bestow a lot of attention on Claire’s transgression. Deep down, she knew Claire would never mean her harm, and that whatever had spurred her on to decide to sleep with Dievart wasn’t any ill will she might harbour towards Juliette.

  “I just, I have no idea what I’m going to say to him.”

  “Why don’t you let him do the talking.” Claire inched to the edge of her chair. She was probably anxious to get to the hospital. “Is Nadia going with you?”

  “She doesn’t know yet, but yes.”

  “No matter what happens, I’ll be around if you need to talk.”

  “I know you will.” Claire may have used up a big chunk of the credit she had with Juliette, but, over the years, she’d banked a lot of it, and there was still plenty left.

  MARGOT

  All of this was more exhausting than a double shift, Margot thought, even though she was lying down. She’d barely said goodbye to her family, having been assured they would come back tomorrow, when Nadia had stuck her head in the door, asking if she could let Claire know how she was doing and if she was up to having her as a visitor.

  Margot had smiled at her friend and nodded. As far as Margot’s groggy mind could remember, Nadia had popped round every hour to check up on her and sped up the process of moving her to a more comfortable, private room.

  All things considered, she wasn’t nearly as banged up as she ought to be. The orthopaedic surgeon who had operated on her leg had explained about the double displaced fracture of her shinbone, both the tibial shaft and fibula in her right leg had been broken, and surgery had been necessary. It would take about five months to heal completely, so she wouldn’t be kickboxing for a while. This was all information Margot didn’t need to be told, but she let the doctors do their job, because this entire situation was awkward enough already.

  She had a minor concussion, and from what she could glean, the right side of her body was covered in bruises, but the internal bleeding in her spleen caused by the collision had quickly stopped of its own accord, and, basically, Margot was fine. She probably wouldn’t even have to stay in hospital for very long. Another twenty-four hours for observation, possibly prolonged to forty-eight because Nadia would force it on her, but then she’d go home, her leg in a cast, and her ego and heart more wounded than anything. Unfortunately, no surgery existed to mend those.

 
; Her parents would insist she stay with them, at least for the first weeks—she’d heard them discuss it with her sister when she woke from another slumber—because how could she take care of herself if she couldn’t put weight on one leg? And what was with the drinking?

  What it would come down to was that Margot would have way too many hours in the day to reflect on what had happened, with no real distraction apart from the occasional visitor, because, even if the board let her resume her duties after a while—and that was still a big if and a subject no one had broached yet—a trauma surgeon could not work while using crutches.

  And now, Claire was on her way over. What the hell was she going to say to her?

  * * *

  Margot must have fallen back asleep because when she opened her eyes again, Claire was sitting next to her bed.

  “Hey,” she said. “I heard you took a tumble.”

  Margot wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “A pretty bad one.”

  “How are you feeling?” Claire sat wringing her hands together.

  “I’m guessing how I look on the outside must give you a pretty good idea.” At least her voice had come back in the course of the day.

  “Nadia said you should make a speedy recovery.”

  “Yes, that seems to be what everyone is saying.” Her body might put itself together within a few months, but the guilt would never go away. Margot suddenly realised she had no idea what had happened to her motorcycle. Was it evidence? Or had it been towed to a junk yard for total loss vehicles? Either way, she wouldn’t be getting on it any time soon, not only because riding a bike would require her to be able to bend both legs, but also because she couldn’t imagine how she could ever, in her right mind, allow herself to be a hazard on the road again.

  “Last time we spoke, we agreed we shouldn’t be seeing each other for a while.” Claire curled her lips into a smile. “Way to change things up, Doctor.”

  Margot tried a smile, but using too much of her facial muscles made her head hurt. “At least I got your attention.” Jesus. Talk about a joke in bad taste. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s okay.” Claire’s face was all mush and sentimentality. “I’m just glad you’re going to be okay, Margot. All the rest is of lesser importance.”

  “At least now I can still live with myself. I can’t bear to think of what… if the worst had happened…”

  “Don’t.” Claire put her hand on the bed gently. “Don’t think about that. It was an accident. No one else got hurt.”

  Margot tried to shake her head, but her trapezius muscle disagreed, sending a jolt of pain down her spine. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I woke up. I’m a doctor. I swore an oath to save lives, and instead I endangered someone else’s life by… by being reckless and foolish.”

  Claire cleared her throat. Margot wasn’t sure how much longer she could cope with the obvious pity in her glance. “You, erm, were on your way to see me?”

  All Margot could do was breathe heavily through her nostrils. She wondered what would happen if she tried to reach for Claire’s hand, which rested mere inches from hers. “I was.” Margot felt ambivalent about not suffering any memory loss. She could have done with the respite of not remembering what had driven her to mount her motorcycle, but, on the other hand, she craved the punishment the memory provided.

  “Yeah. I clearly shouldn’t have done that.” Margot didn’t know what else to say. The speech she’d made up in her head on the way to Claire was hardly relevant any more now, in the cold, hard, sober, and very painful light of day.

  “Look.” Claire moved her hand a fraction of an inch. “It’s not because we broke up that I won’t be here for you. Anything you need. I mean it.”

  “You don’t owe me, Claire. And you know I don’t do well with pity.”

  “It’s not pity. Maybe circumstances will force us to become friends sooner than we had expected, that’s all.”

  Friends. Why did hearing that hurt more than her doubly fractured, freshly operated on leg?

  “Hm.” Margot suddenly felt even less talkative than she usually did.

  “What are you going to do when they send you home?” Claire removed her hand from the bed and inspected Margot’s elevated leg and cast. “And when can I sign that?”

  “I’ll probably stay at my parents for a while, and be bored to tears.” Margot ignored the question about signing her cast. As if she needed a constant reminder like that. The cast in itself was enough already.

  “All I’m hearing is that you could do with an extra friend.” Claire faced her again. “I spotted your parents in the emergency room last night, but thought it a bad time to introduce myself.”

  “Yeah. They got quite the scare.” Margot had talked to many parents herself, often having to deliver much worse news than her parents had received last night. “Look, Claire, I hope you’re not feeling guilty about this. I need you to know this is not your fault. I’m an adult and the only one responsible for any fool’s errands I go on.”

  “Yes. I know that.” She didn’t sound very convincing.

  “I understand why you would feel that way, but you must realise that sentiments like that help neither one of us.”

  “It seems like weeks ago that we sat in that pompous restaurant in the Eiffel Tower.” Claire put her hand back on the bed. “Like time has played a trick on us.”

  “Regardless of dealing with this,” Margot paused, “have you been doing well… with it?”

  Claire shrugged. “I don’t know what well would mean under the circumstances.”

  What Margot really wanted to ask was whether she’d had any second thoughts, but didn’t think the timing was right for it. She wasn’t sure if it would ever be.

  A knock on the door broke the moment and the opportunity to ask further questions, for which Margot was not entirely ungrateful. Until she noticed who had knocked.

  “How’s the patient?” Dievart walked in. “I’m about to go off my shift.” She stopped when she spotted Claire. “Oh, hi, Claire.”

  How did they get to be on first name basis already? Margot remembered Claire mentioning that she’d met Dievart while on a lunch date with Nadia. Perhaps they’d seen each other again in the waiting room last night.

  “Hey.” Was Margot’s eyesight so affected or did Claire just break out into a blush? She stood up awkwardly.

  “Just came to say goodnight. I’ll check in first thing in the morning.” What was with Dievart’s special interest in her, anyway? Was she planning on hitting on Margot again? She must have heard that she was back to being single. “Claire, could I see you in the hallway for a minute before I leave?”

  “Sure.” Claire stood. “Be right back,” she said to Margot before following on Dievart’s heels.

  “See you tomorrow, Doctor de Hay,” Dievart said in her Belgian accent.

  Margot watched the door of her room fall shut behind the pair of them.

  CLAIRE

  “That was highly inappropriate,” Claire whispered. “What am I going to say when I go back in?”

  “Whoa. What’s with the paranoia?” Dievart stood there as if asking Claire to follow her outside was a perfectly explicable request. “I didn’t even know you would be in there.”

  “That’s not the point.” A nurse skulked past them and nodded at Dievart.

  “Claire, come on.” Dievart painted that same smile on her face she had given Claire when she’d opened the door to her hotel room the night before. “We have unfinished business.” She lifted her arm and brushed the back of two fingers lightly against Claire’s biceps.

  Claire looked at her own arm in disbelief, as though it didn’t belong to her.

  “We sure as hell haven’t.” She jerked her arm away.

  “Okay, fine, I’ll back off.” Dievart literally took a step back. “How was I to know you were getting back together?” She narrowed those beautiful pale eyes of hers. “And don’t forget, Claire, you contacted me.
I just assumed—”

  “You assumed wrong.”

  Dievart held up her hands. “Apologies. My bad,” she said. “Nerves are obviously raw here. I should have been more sensitive.”

  “We’re not getting back together…” Claire tried to say before her voice broke.

  Dievart stepped closer again, but didn’t touch her. “How about dinner? Some time next week. Or this weekend? Call me. You have my number. No hard feelings if I don’t hear from you.”

  Claire just shook her head. “I would appreciate discretion in front of Margot. I don’t want her to know. It’s bad enough everyone else does.”

  “I’m usually not someone people are ashamed of, Claire.” Dievart’s lips curled into that über-confident leer. “We’re all adults.”

  “Just, please don’t discuss it with anyone. Nothing even happened. It was bad judgement on my part.”

  Dievart chuckled. “The compliments just keep on coming my way.” She sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Fine. My lips are sealed.” Instead of walking off she huddled even closer, slanted her head and whispered, “but I saw it in your eyes, Claire. Our business is definitely unfinished.” She shot Claire a quick smile and turned on her heels.

  Claire had to compose herself before she could go back into Margot’s room. She didn’t have much of a poker face she could rely on. But she could hardly tell Margot the truth in the condition she was in.

  She inhaled deeply through her nose and pushed the air out through her parted lips, before turning the doorknob and re-joining Margot.

  “Did she deploy her charm on you?” Margot had something resembling a smile on her lips.

  “I wouldn’t call it charm.” Claire walked towards the window and stared out of it. She couldn’t look at Margot, couldn’t possibly tell her the reason she hadn’t been home last night, when Margot had had something so urgent to say to her she’d driven her motorcycle into a van.