French Kissing: Season One

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French Kissing: Season One Page 1

by Harper Bliss




  Contents

  Copyright

  French Kissing: Episode One

  French Kissing: Episode Two

  French Kissing: Episode Three

  French Kissing: Episode Four

  French Kissing: Episode Five

  French Kissing: Episode Six

  Thank you

  About the author

  Other Harper Bliss books

  HARPER BLISS

  FRENCH KISSING: SEASON ONE

  (Episodes 1-6)

  Copyright © Harper Bliss 2014

  Cover picture © Depositphotos / dashek

  Published by LadyLit Publishing - Hong Kong

  ISBN 978-988-12899-2-6

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorised duplication is prohibited.

  Warning: This title contains sensual language and ladies making love.

  www.harperbliss.com

  www.ladylit.com

  EPISODE ONE

  JULIETTE

  “We haven’t had sex in months.” Juliette gazed out of Claire’s corner office window, hesitant to look her oldest friend and business partner in the eye. In the window’s reflection, she could see Claire shuffle around nervously in her seat. “Nadia, she’s just… hardly there anymore. And I’m not saying it’s her fault, but since she got promoted—”

  “It’s her time, Jules,” Claire interrupted. “You had yours. Now it’s her turn.”

  This remark made Juliette spin around instantly. “I had mine?” She opened her palms to the sky and made a sweeping gesture. “Past tense? Then what’s all this?”

  “This is what we built. Through years of hard work and spousal neglect. I’m the best example of that.”

  “You’re just single because you’re so bloody difficult and no one’s ever good enough.” Juliette scanned Claire’s flawless face. A few laughter lines bracketed her eyes and she dyed her hair now, but she still looked a decade below her physical age.

  Claire pushed herself out of her chair and walked towards Juliette. “No need to take it out on me, dear. I may be single but I’m getting plenty.”

  Frustration flared beneath Juliette’s skin. “As long as you stay away from the interns—”

  A loud knock on the door stopped Juliette mid-insult. Steph, dressed in tight jeans and equally tight blazer, appeared in the doorway and Juliette and Claire both burst out laughing.

  “What?” The puzzled look on Steph’s face made it difficult to stop the giggles, but this was their place of business and, in the end, everything always stopped for business.

  “We were just talking about you. That’s all,” Claire said.

  “Glad to be the source of such gaiety.” Steph always kept her cool, no matter the circumstances. It was one of the main reasons they had decided to hire her straight out of school ten years ago, despite her indiscretion with one of the bosses. “Dominique Laroche wants to meet first thing on Monday.”

  “She’s keen,” Juliette said. “We want you in that meeting, Steph. Try to wear something… politically correct.”

  “Sure. I just bought a really cool red tank top—”

  “Don’t you fucking dare. She’s MRL’s rising star and we want to make an impression.” Juliette stared into Steph’s grinning face, realising too late her friend and employee was winding her up. “Just be on time tonight.”

  “Is there a dress code?” Steph asked.

  “Just your usual über-lesbian attire will do.”

  “If everybody looked the same…” Steph hummed before turning on her heels and exiting Claire’s office.

  Juliette checked her watch. “I’d better get going.” She couldn’t stifle a sigh. “Oh, and just a heads-up, even though I wasn’t supposed to tell you to avoid awkwardness… Nadia has invited some doctor from the hospital she wants you to meet.”

  Juliette watched Claire roll her eyes. “I thought we had agreed on no more set-ups?”

  “We had, but Nadia only seems to follow her own rules these days.”

  “Hey, cut her some slack, okay? She’s put up with your workaholic habits for years. You’ll find a way to make it work again.”

  “We have talked about, um, means to spice things up…” A blush bloomed on Juliette’s cheeks. She headed towards the visitor chair opposite Claire’s desk, against which Claire was still leaning, and sat down. “But this does not leave this room, yeah?”

  “Of course not.” Claire’s eyebrows were already arched up expectantly.

  “We were a bit tipsy at the time, mind you, otherwise, I mean, we would never…” Juliette knew she was rambling. She took a deep breath and continued. “We were thinking about going to Les Pêches one of these weekends with the sole purpose of picking someone up for a threesome.”

  Claire’s face broke out in a grin. “You? Miss Control Freak? Inviting a stranger into your bed?”

  “Better a stranger than someone I know.”

  “I’m not so sure, Jules.”

  Juliette ignored the smirk tugging at Claire’s lips. “What? Are you volunteering?”

  “Been there, done that.” Claire’s face was now completely split by a smile baring her impeccable white teeth.

  “I’m serious.” Juliette wanted nothing more than to have a giggle at it all. “My relationship is falling apart and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Claire scooted closer and put a hand on her knee. “It’s not falling apart. You’re just going through a rough patch, adjusting to changes in your life. You’ll be fine. You’re Juliette and Nadia for heaven’s sake.”

  “What if we’re not, though? What if we’re not fine?”

  Claire gave her knee a squeeze. “Don’t even think about it.” She looked at her watch. “Don’t you have a dinner party to prepare for?”

  “Yes, heaven forbid I screw that up as well.”

  “Do you need help?”

  Juliette shot Claire a disdainful glare. “You’d only end up setting my kitchen on fire.”

  “Fair enough.” Claire pulled Juliette out of her chair and pecked her on the cheek before spinning her around and gently coaxing her towards the door. “I’ll see you at eight.”

  Juliette made a brief stop in her office next door, powered off her computer and headed home. The Barbier & Cyr office was located on a side street of the Champs-Élysées and it was a fifteen-minute downhill walk to her and Nadia’s flat. Juliette pushed any negative thoughts about her relationship to the back of her mind and focused on the dish she would prepare tonight. Coq au vin with gratin dauphinois. Not that she was overcompensating.

  NADIA

  “What were you thinking?” Nadia tried to ignore Juliette’s question. She’d been expecting it all evening, but they hadn’t had a moment alone. “You couldn’t have picked a less compatible person for Claire. You know what she’s like.”

  “Honey.” Nadia turned around, back against the sink. “When will you get it out of your head that the only type of woman Claire will fall for is someone exactly like you?” She painted a tight smile on her face. “People change. Tastes evolve. You may have an excellent business relationship these days, but, from what you’ve told me, back in the day when you were dating, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses, was it?”

  Nadia witnessed how Juliette’s jaw dropped.

  “There are so many things wrong with all of what you just said.” Juliette shook her head, no sign of kindness or amusement in her eyes. “I’m going back in there, but this conversation is far from over.” She spun on her heels and left the kitchen, but, just before rounding the corner, faced Nadia once more. “Claire has
been my best friend for more than twenty years. I believe I know a thing or two about her.” And she was gone.

  Nadia, once again, wondered when they’d stopped seeing eye to eye on most matters. It used to be so easy. Now they were seriously discussing threesomes—something that would never happen, if Nadia had any say in the matter—to save what was left of their relationship.

  She opened the fridge and took out the chocolate cake she’d bought rather than made herself. Another strike against her.

  “Everything under control?” Steph’s voice startled her.

  Nadia nodded, drew her lips into a wide smile and pushed her troubles to the back of her mind. “I’ll be right out with dessert.”

  “The doctor’s nice.” Steph said it with that inflection in her voice Nadia had heard so many times. Great. “Are you trying to set her up with Claire? Because I’m not sure that’s going to work out. But you know me, always willing to pick up the slack.”

  “What is it with you people? You spend two hours in someone’s company and your mind’s made up? Has anyone even asked Claire what she thinks?” Nadia only realised after she’d uttered the words that the volume of her voice was not adjusted to the fact that the kitchen was right next to the dining room.

  “Did you call for me?” Claire, all groomed to perfection, appeared in the doorway.

  Still with the chocolate cake in her hands, Nadia sighed. “No.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” She shot Nadia a quick wink and disappeared with Steph hot on her heels.

  Nadia straightened her back, lifted her chin, and carried the cake into the living room. “No need for applause, I didn’t bake it myself.”

  “But you took the time to pick it up for us,” Claire said.

  “Looks great, honey.” Juliette’s voice had that now almost familiar undercurrent of disdain and Nadia spotted the quick exchange of glances between her and Claire.

  “I’ll do the cutting,” Margot, the—frankly—hot surgeon Nadia had invited to dinner with her friends, offered. “It’s my job after all.” It was true that, unlike most French people—and Juliette especially—Margot was not in love with the sound of her own voice and didn’t produce an endless stream of meaningless words just to hear it non-stop. These days, Nadia much preferred a quick, quiet lunch with Margot to one of Juliette’s laboured-over suppers. Not because of romantic motivations, but mainly because Juliette, although very careful not to criticise too directly, didn’t seem to have that many good things to say about Nadia anymore.

  Nadia sat down and regarded her friends and partner of ten years. She usually didn’t feel so deflated in their company. This was time off work, time to relax, but, in all honesty, Nadia didn’t mind working overtime if this was all she had to come home to.

  Steph had adopted her usual pose, incapable of sitting in a chair like an adult, with one leg drawn up under her. Claire’s blonde fringe was cut so it nearly did but just didn’t fall into her eyes—eyes that Nadia had seen wander to Margot in unguarded moments, no matter what the others thought. Margot was her calm self, trained to remain level-headed in every situation. Maybe it worked against her a little bit in social situations, but if it hadn’t been for her co-worker’s lunch time advice over the past few weeks, Nadia wasn’t sure she’d still be sitting at this table.

  Then there was Juliette. She’d slipped out of her business suit for the evening and looked relaxed in jeans and t-shirt. How looks could be deceiving. Juliette Barbier, the love of her life, who couldn’t feel more removed from her now than if she’d been on a mission to the North Pole.

  And maybe she shouldn’t, but Nadia did what she had to do to numb that feeling of dread spreading in her chest. The premonition that this could not last, that the setting was false, the people present mere actors playing well-rehearsed parts. She poured herself another glass of wine.

  STEPH

  Nadia was drunk, Juliette sported her angry scowl in response, Claire shuffled in her chair uncomfortably, and the hot doctor was about to leave. Steph had enough decency not to flirt with Margot in front of the others, despite their levels of indifference or intoxication. Claire and Juliette had become good friends, but they were still her bosses.

  “I’m heading home as well.” Steph got up out of her seat and hugged the hosts and Claire, who lived just down the street from Nadia and Juliette. Steph knew full well that, in a previous life, Claire and Juliette had been lovers, but to her, her two bosses seemed more like twins, like sisters who couldn’t be away from each other for more than twenty-four hours.

  She followed Margot to the elevator and hopped in with her.

  “To be a fly on the wall now,” she joked, trying to break the ice while admiring the doctor’s all-leather outfit.

  Margot just gave a small smile in response, obviously not very interested in gossiping about Nadia and the people she had just met.

  “Heading straight home?” Steph asked, trying to coax even a few words out of her elevator companion, not being very good at silences in confined spaces.

  With pursed lips, Margot just nodded. Was she giving Steph the cold shoulder? Heavens. She hadn’t even tried anything yet, was just making polite conversation. They exited the building in silence. Steph had a good few inches on the doctor in height, but she had to quicken her pace to keep up with Margot’s swift strides. They stopped at a sporty but quite heavy motorbike. Steph’s eyes grew wide.

  “Very nice to meet you, Steph. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” Margot produced a key from her leather jacket pocket and unfastened the helmet chained to the bike’s handlebar. Could she get any hotter?

  “Would you like to go for a night cap?” It was as if Steph’s brain had stopped working. Was she really using that crappy line on this gorgeous woman? Steph wasn’t that used to going after someone like this. She just had to set foot in Les Pêches and at least one person would be all over her.

  “I’m driving.” Margot pointed at the bike and Steph was grateful for the darkness of the night hiding the sudden blush on her cheeks. “And I’m not much of a drinker. I’m not on call but I simply never know when someone’s life will be in my hands. I like to be prepared.”

  The simple way in which she said it and the gravitas of her words made Steph accept them immediately. Clearly, Margot was out of her league—too serious, too smart and too level-headed. Too much of a challenge as well?

  “Besides,” Margot said, her helmet already at the top of her head. “No offence, but you’re a bit young for me.” With that, she slipped the helmet over her head, straddled the bike, pushed it off its stand and kicked it into gear. It was the most arousing thing Steph had seen in months, maybe years. Maybe ever.

  Ouch. She watched Margot speed off with a roar in the night before heading for the Métro. She briefly contemplated getting off at Saint-Paul and drop by Les Pêches to nurse her wounded ego, but that would only result in mediocre sex and a hangover.

  Instead, she took the underground to her flat near Père Lachaise, fed her cat and divided her thoughts between the memory of Margot driving off and Claire’s words earlier that day, just before she left work. They wanted her in the Dominique Laroche meeting on Monday. If she made the right impression, they would let her take the lead on a very important account. It had been a long time coming and Steph was ready.

  She had research to do this weekend. Les Pêches would be there the next weekend, and the next. Steph had turned thirty-three last month and it was time to take her career to the next level.

  “What do you think, Pierrot?” she asked her grey-striped cat.

  “Meow,” he said.

  CLAIRE

  Claire high-fived Steph, not a gesture she often partook in, but Steph had just landed Barbier & Cyr its first politician as a client in its fourteen-year existence. Claire had always known politics and PR were a match made in heaven, but for the first time, she would reap the rewards.

  Steph had been outstanding in the meeting with Dominique Laroche, sweeping her off her feet
with her boyish charm as well as with deep knowledge of the smallest events in the rising députée’s career. A winning combination.

  “Impressive,” she said as she ushered Steph and Juliette into her office for a debriefing. “She’s all yours now.” Claire liked to believe that she’d taught Steph all she knew, but their once intern and now co-worker was plenty savvy herself. She simply had the instinct. And she could seduce like no other.

  A sly grin on Steph’s face said it all. It was the same crooked smile Claire had briefly fallen for ten years ago, in a moment of weakness. Despite scolding herself for that misstep many times, she could still see how it had come about. Glancing at Juliette, her other, more serious ex, she wondered how the three of them had made it work so well.

  “I hope you’re ready to work around the clock,” Juliette said. “When you’re on a politician’s payroll, you’re always on standby.”

  “She’ll be fine.” Claire didn’t want Juliette to ruin Steph’s moment of glory just because she’d been suffering from a skewed work-life balance the past fourteen years or, to be more precise, because Nadia was starting to show signs of being fed up with it. “Steph? Are you up for it?”

  She sat up in the chair she’d been slouching in in typical Steph fashion. “Can’t wait.”

  “This woman is ambitious.” Adrenalin surged in Claire’s blood. “We want to be around when it really happens for her. You have to build a relationship with her based on trust. That’s the most important thing. But before you do, you’ll have to dig up all her dirty laundry.”

  “Consider it done.” Steph cleared her throat. “Speaking of which and in the spirit of full disclosure… last Friday I made a bit of a pass at Margot when we were saying our goodbyes. She blew me off. We went our separate ways.”

 

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