French Kissing: Season One

by Harper Bliss

  “Come for me,” Margot said, hoisting her tank top all the way over her bra.

  Claire didn’t stare at her exposed skin when the waves came crashing over her; she looked straight into Margot’s eyes.

  “Oh god,” she moaned, the climax as forceful as if Margot had administered it herself, as if it was her finger on her clit, flicking left and right.

  Margot smoothed her tank top back over her chest and sat in the chair as if nothing had happened.

  Claire caught her breath, removed her hand from her panties and yanked her skirt down. “Jesus christ,” she said, “I’m beginning to believe no one does any work anymore in this firm.”

  NADIA

  Nadia met Steph for a round of after-work drinks at a bar in Le Marais. They sat outside, perched around a miniature table on the narrow sidewalk, sipping rosé, because it was that time of year.

  “You don’t, by any chance, want to join me on a romantic trip to Barcelona, do you?” she asked Steph who looked as if she needed cheering up as much as Nadia did when she examined herself in the mirror.

  “I would if I could take Friday off, but with everything going on at Barbier & Cyr these days, I feel as if I have to be there every minute of every day.” Steph smirked, at last showing that she wasn’t taking Nadia’s request too seriously. “And then there’s my own miserable love life to take into consideration.”

  “That bad, eh?” It could never be as bad as the sorry state of Nadia’s relationship, if it even still qualified as one.

  “I know everyone thinks Dominique and I are doomed and perhaps that’s how part of me feels as well, but the other part just can’t get enough of her.” Steph sighed. “And then there’s that business with Sybille.” Steph eyed Nadia with unexpected intensity. “Have you met her?”

  “No.” Nadia shook her head. She’d heard Juliette mention her name and she knew she was the one who’d sent Juliette the picture of Steph’s Sunday morning exit from Laroche’s flat, but recent events had taken her mind far off that subject. “What’s going on?”

  “She can’t be trusted, only, Juliette seems to believe she walks on water or something, and earlier today…” Steph hesitated. “I’m not sure I should be telling you this, Nadz.”

  “Well, you have to tell me now.” Anxiety rose inside of Nadia.

  “This morning,” Steph lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I walked into her office and Sybille was massaging Juliette’s shoulders.” She slanted her body over the table. “I’m not saying it meant anything and I’m definitely not claiming something untoward is going on… yet.”

  Despite the soft tone with which Steph delivered the news, it still came as a blow to Nadia, a slap straight across her face.

  “Juliette is vulnerable right now and Sybille knows it,” Steph continued. “And she’s definitely one to take advantage.”

  Perhaps, for the first time, Nadia understood how Juliette really felt. The mere mention of her long-term partner considering touching a stranger instantly made her feel hollow and powerless, and rendered her speechless.

  “I’ve got my eye on her. We’ve had a few altercations and, obviously, Juliette believes I can’t stand her because she blabbed about me, and that has something to do with it of course, but that girl is after something and I believe it may well be my job.”

  Nadia refilled their glasses from the bottle in the ice bucket. “You think she’s after Juliette and your job?”

  “Think about it, Nadz.” Steph started fiddling with her fingers nervously. “The minute she shows up, everything turns to shit. And her explanation for taking that picture doesn’t add up either.”

  “Wow, she’s really got you backed into a corner.” Nadia drank some more.

  “I know I sound paranoid, but she still has that picture of me leaving Dominique’s building on her phone and she has threatened me with it. It’s not just me or you she can hurt, Nadz, she can do serious damage to Dominique as well.”

  Nadia’s mind was too focused on Sybille trying to get Juliette into bed to pay much attention to Steph’s conspiracy theory. “I’d speak to Juliette, but I doubt she’ll listen to me.” Deep despair descended upon Nadia again. “You’re only hope right now is Claire.”

  Steph exhaled deeply. “Claire’s mind is elsewhere as well, plus I know she and Juliette are in serious disagreement about having kept Dominique on as a client.” She bent over the table again. “I’m good friends with Claire’s assistant Fred and he told me that earlier today, when Margot paid an unexpected visit to Claire, he could have sworn they were, you know, doing it in Claire’s office.”

  Giggles rose like bubbles through Nadia’s body. “Oh god,” she said. “What happened to Barbier & Cyr?” Laughter convulsed in her belly. “I always believed it was such a respectable place.”

  Steph laughed with her, because, really, what other option did they have than to just have a good chuckle at their own expense.

  After the dire reality of it all came back to her and the laughter subsided as quickly as it had sprung up on them, Nadia said, “You keep an eye on that…” She didn’t want to say the word. It wasn’t her style.

  “Bitch?” Steph drummed her fingertips on the table. “Oh, I will.”

  If Juliette started something with her assistant, there’d be even less chance of them patching things up, and they already had such a long road to go.

  “I’m going to ask her again if she won’t change her mind.” Nadia slipped her phone out of her purse and, without giving it any further thought, dialled Juliette’s number. It rang and rang, but no one picked up. Whereas at first, she’d just had hurt and self-pity coursing through her whenever Juliette ignored her calls, now there was the added sensation of paranoia. Had they ended up in bed already?

  Nadia stared at Steph, despair tightening her muscles.

  “I think she had a work do tonight,” Steph said, probably catching the fear in Nadia’s eyes.

  “I’ll send her a message instead.”

  “I have a better idea.” Steph’s voice shot up. “Why don’t you come to the office tomorrow and ask her in person.

  Obviously she wanted Nadia to meet Sybille, and Nadia had become quite curious about her as well.

  “Maybe I will,” Nadia said, and put her phone down.

  JULIETTE

  Darkness was already falling outside, but Juliette was still in her office, thinking of ways to manage the crisis when Dominique Laroche’s secret came out. She had insisted on continuing to represent the politician’s PR interests and she wanted to be ready, just in case.

  She knew that, just outside her office door, Sybille was waiting for her to leave, despite Juliette’s insistence that she’d go home.

  “There’s always work for me to do, Juliette,” she had said half an hour earlier, when Juliette had craned her head outside of the door and commanded her to go home. “And I’m happy to stay. You never know, right?”

  Juliette had seen it then, that eagerness to please above anything else. It was ridiculous that a junior assistant would still be in the office on a gorgeous summer evening after nine p.m., but she couldn’t claim to not appreciate it, or enjoy the attention.

  Because, yes, there was always work to be done, but they both knew it was as much flirting as anything else. Harmless flirting, as far as Juliette was concerned, because she wouldn’t stoop to Steph’s—and even Claire’s—level and sleep with clients or employees. But those brief moments of someone expressing interest in her, and making it absolutely clear that she would have her back no matter what happened, was all she had. Besides that, all that was left was an empty flat to go home to and long hours of not sleeping and being torn between calling Nadia and that dreadful, devouring feeling of having lost everything.

  A knock on the door startled her. “Oui, Sybille,” she said, already happy with the brief distraction she would offer.

  The door opened and, to Juliette’s utter surprise, Nadia appeared in her office. Maybe she should have
taken one of her incessant calls or replied to her messages.

  “It’s me,” Nadia said.

  Juliette nodded to Sybille, who stood behind Nadia, indicating she should close the door. The resemblance between them hit her again. She noticed how Nadia eyed Sybille curiously.

  “I went by the flat and Le Comptoir, so I figured you’d still be here.”

  “Summer’s not supposed to be this busy, but here I am.” Juliette was unprepared to face Nadia and felt strangely put on the spot.

  “Can I sit?” Nadia asked.

  Juliette gestured at a chair, her palm open. “Please.”

  “I don’t mean to ambush you, but I just really wanted to see you, to ask you something.” Nadia appeared nervous. Juliette felt a mixture of nerves, anxiety and despair play tricks on her stomach as well. Nadia seemed more like a stranger than her partner of ten years.

  “It’s okay.” Then it was just plain sadness crushing Juliette’s soul. There they sat, opposite each other in her office, as if in a business meeting, exchanging niceties.

  “Would you please reconsider coming to Barcelona with me?” Nadia’s voice was small.

  As a matter of self-preservation, Juliette had already erased that trip from her brain, ignoring the possibility of joining completely. Automatically, she shook her head. “No. That’s out of the question.”

  “Please, babe.” Nadia’s voice cracked. “We need to do something. We can’t stay in this limbo.”

  Juliette’s mind flashed back to the evening she’d proposed the trip to Nadia, when everything was still hopeful and untainted by secret one-night-stands. Rage flared inside of her again and there was no way she could take all the frustration and agony that had been building inside of her on a four-day trip with Nadia.

  “I can’t. We can’t. Look at us.” Exasperated, she let her upper body fall against the back of her chair. “There’s nothing left between us except disappointment and hurt and this dreadful sadness here.” She tapped her chest.

  “So what are you saying?” Tears sprang up in the corners of Nadia’s eyes, the overhead lamp in Juliette’s office catching them. “That it’s over? That we’re beyond repair?”

  Juliette looked away because keeping her gaze on Nadia was too painful. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “You tell me.”

  “I refuse to believe that.” A sudden power rose in Nadia’s voice. “Look at me, Jules.”

  Juliette glanced at Nadia, unable to ignore the command in her tone.

  “We are so much more than this and I will fight for you.” But it wasn’t enough. Once, that tone had set Juliette’s blood on fire, while now, she could only wonder if Nadia had used it on Marie Dievart and how the neurosurgeon had reacted to it.

  “From where I’m sitting, there’s not a lot left to fight for.” Juliette straightened her posture. “No matter how you twist or turn it, you cheated on me and lied about it, by omission, for months. I don’t trust you and, truth be told, I’m disgusted by you.” Even Juliette was taken aback by the harshness of her words.

  Defeated, Nadia stood up. “I understand if you need more time, but don’t give up on us.” All the zest had left her voice and it sounded flat and broken. “I won’t.” Juliette watched how she swallowed hard, wiped a few tears away from her cheeks, before turning to leave.

  “It’s a little fucking late for that,” Juliette mumbled to the closed door of her office after Nadia had exited. She realised that her main issue was uncontrolled, boundless anger. Not just anger directed at Nadia for what she’d done. Juliette was also angry at herself, because she hadn’t seen it and she had let it come this far. But in the end, she still wasn’t the one who had cheated.

  STEPH

  Another Wednesday night, another summons, Steph thought as she knocked on the massive door of Dominique’s office at the Palais Bourbon.

  “Entrez.” Dominique’s voice on the other end of the door sounded as if she was out for blood.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said as Steph walked in.

  “Expecting someone else?” Steph waited by the door.

  “No, I’m sorry, I lost track of time.” Dominique rushed over to Steph. “I think I need a hug.”

  Confused, Steph opened her arms wide. “What’s wrong?”

  “You might be holding the biggest hypocrite in the Assemblée right now.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that,” Steph whispered in Dominique’s ear. “Did you say the biggest hottie? Because I already knew that.”

  Dominique pushed herself away from Steph’s chest and looked into her eyes. “We had a big party meeting this afternoon, the last one before recess. Even my father was there, and we all know what that means.”

  “The leadership means business.”

  “One of the conclusions of the meeting was that every MLR député is expected to vote against gay marriage in September, even though it will most likely pass. We want to send a clear message to the hundreds of thousands of people protesting it, what with the elections next year.”

  “Lovely.” Steph was torn between supporting Dominique and launching into a tirade, not that she believed in any form of marriage, gay or straight, but this was a simple matter of principle and equality.

  “The best means of protest I could come up with was to call you over here and have my way with you on my desk, maybe on some papers with the logo of the party prominently displayed on it.”

  Steph shook her head. “Did you stand up for it at all?”

  Dominique dislodged herself from Steph’s embrace. “Of course I did.” Her eyes shot fire. “I wasn’t the only one, either. We do have some forward-thinking, progressive people in our party. We’re not extremists.”

  “You have time to think about it. The vote isn’t until after summer.” Steph grabbed Dominique’s hand; she couldn’t help herself.

  “It will be seen as extreme disloyalty to the party’s stance and could have an effect on who the leadership decides to support.”

  “Surely not for you. You’re Dominique Laroche and they’re nothing without you. They need you more than they need that vote.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it, but politics are, unfortunately, never that simple.” Dominique let her head fall against Steph’s chest again. “I’ve had enough of politics for today, anyway.”

  “Shall we go home?” Steph stroked Dominique’s hair and felt nothing but the most compelling desire to make her feel better.

  “Where’s that?” Dominique chuckled, irony in her voice.

  “Let’s go to mine.” Steph pressed a kiss on the crown of Dominique’s head, engulfed by a tenderness completely foreign to her.

  “Okay, but I’m not moving in just yet.”

  * * *

  After Steph had fed Pierrot and given him enough cuddles to make up for being away all day—something she did every evening—she crashed down into her sofa next to Dominique, whose eyes were fixed on the screen of her phone.

  “Enough of that.” Steph held out her hand ostentatiously. “My house, my rules.”

  Without protest, Dominique dropped the phone in her palm. “Sometimes, I really wonder what you’ve done to me and if I’ve lost my mind completely.” The expression on her face was serious enough to cause a light pang of worry to course through Steph. “My path is laid out. If we win the elections, and, you never know, but all evidence points in that direction, what with the Socialists screwing up the way they’re doing now, I will become Minister. And then what?” She inched a bit closer to Steph. “Sometimes, deeply stashed away in here—she pointed at her chest—a tiny glimmer of hope flickers that we’ll lose.” Her gaze, full of despair, found Steph’s. “Of course, that’s unspeakable, unthinkable even, but that’s how I feel about you.”

  Steph looked away, fighting against the tears, because for someone so principally dead-set against relationships, she’d landed herself in the most impossible one she could imagine. “What are you saying?” she asked.

  “Oh god.”
Dominique brought her hands to her mouth. “Not what you’re thinking right now.” She shuffled closer and cupped Steph’s cheeks in her palms. “For the life of me, I’m not letting you go.”

  Yet. “Isn’t that incredibly foolish?”

  “Oh yes.” Dominique’s green eyes looked sincere enough. “But I choose you.”

  Now you do. When it’s still easy and sexy, but what will happen when the wolves come out? The thought crossed Steph’s mind, and not for the first time, that if she really cared about Dominique Laroche, she should be the one to let her go. But just like politics, it wasn’t that simple.

  She was in love with her.

  CLAIRE

  When Claire arrived home on Wednesday evening, after a long, wine-laden dinner with a potential client, she found Margot sitting barefoot in her sofa, legs tucked under her bottom, reading a book.

  Margot looked up as she walked in, a giddy smile on her face. “Your key works,” she said.

  “Clearly.” Claire was a bit tipsy. She hadn’t eaten any of the carbs on her plate, just a small piece of salmon and some greens—no dessert. If she ever wanted her belly to even remotely resemble Margot’s, she knew she’d have to cut back on the wine as well, but she wasn’t prepared to go that far just yet. “What are you reading?”

  Margot tossed the paperback on the coffee table. “It’s a story about lesbians doing drugs and screwing each other over, but it’s well-written.”

  Claire made out the cover, but nothing on the cover of a book could look as good as Margot perched in her sofa. “How was work, darling?” she asked with an affected tone as she approached.

  Margot grinned at her. “Fine, sweetie.”

  “How many lives did you save? Or was it a slow day?” Claire slanted her long body over Margot’s, ready to straddle her.

  Margot pulled Claire on top of her. “Do you really want to know or are you just making conversation until you kiss me?”