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French Kissing: Season One

Page 40

by Harper Bliss


  Steph could try to explain it all she wanted, but the simple truth was that she had fallen in love.

  She glanced at her watch again. Only fifteen minutes. She grabbed her phone to check the Charles De Gaulle website to see if any delays were announced. The four fifteen flight from Nice was still scheduled to arrive on time. Dominique had told her that Philippe was picking the children up at the airport, giving her a ride as well. Philippe, who now knew about Steph’s existence. Would she dare ask him to drop her at Steph’s place? No, too complicated for Lisa and Didier.

  Steph refreshed the website again. A green rectangle lit up next to Dominique’s flight. Landed. A tingle spread from her stomach to her limbs. This was love now, and all her defences were down.

  Steph’s phone beeped, causing her heart to thump against her ribs.

  Meet me at mine in an hour? Tu me manques trop.

  Steph texted back, showered, dressed in jeans and a tank top, waited fifteen more minutes, and went on her way, practically skipping all the way to the Métro.

  * * *

  “C’est qui?” Dominique joked as she opened her front door to a crack.

  A huge smile split Steph’s lips as her eyes landed on a stripe of Dominique’s tan face. She pushed the door open wide and stepped straight into Dominique’s embrace.

  “Whatever will we do if I become Minister of Foreign Affairs?” Dominique whispered in Steph’s ear as she pulled her closer.

  “I’ll march on the Élysée and claim it’s discrimination. A ploy to keep us apart,” Steph whispered back.

  “I wouldn’t expect any less of you.” Dominique tilted her head back and scanned Steph’s face. “It’s good to see you, Stéphanie.”

  “How good?” Steph asked.

  Dominique didn’t reply with words, instead she hoisted Steph’s tank top over her head, dragged down the cups of her bra, and enclosed her lips over one of Steph’s nipples.

  Steph trailed her fingers through Dominique’s sun-bleached hair—now more salt than pepper—as a shudder of desire ran across the expanse of her skin.

  “Before I top you again,” Dominique said when she came up for air. “I need to tell you something.” A big grin was plastered across her face.

  Steph arched up her eyebrows in expectation.

  “When the Assemblée reconvenes in September, I’m voting for same-sex marriage.”

  Something inside of Steph melted. “In that case.” She tugged at Dominique’s t-shirt, wanting her closer. “You can top me all night long.”

  EPISODE SIX

  NADIA

  “You’re running away?” Nadia asked. “Because of her?” She shook her head.

  “I have no choice.” Margot sat across from her, fidgeting with the sleeve of her scrubs, avoiding Nadia’s eyes.

  “Why do you have to be so goddamned stubborn?”

  This made Margot look up. “Excuse me?”

  “You believed so strongly that you didn’t have a choice but to break up with Claire when Inez returned.” Nadia started counting on her fingers. “That was mistake number one.” She added a second finger. “And now you have to leave Saint-Vincent because of her?” Nadia looked her friend in the eyes. “The way I see it, you’ve been making horrible decisions ever since she came back.” She held up her hands. “It’s understandable, but it has to stop, Margot. Come on.”

  “I’ve made such a mess—”

  Nadia didn’t let her speak. She knew full well she was expressing her concern for Margot through anger, but perhaps that was what she needed. “When something goes wrong in surgery, do you run away?”

  “Of course not, but that’s not a good comparison.”

  “This is life. Sometimes it sucks. Deal with it, for crying out loud.” Most of all, Nadia didn’t want Margot to leave. “Yes, you messed up. We all do. It doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed.”

  “I agree with everything you say, Nadz. I do. I’m a coward, but for me, it’s the only way.”

  “Bullshit.” Nadia slammed her fist on the desk with a bit more force than she had anticipated. “And don’t for one minute think I will ever accept your resignation. You’re staying.”

  “With all due respect.” Margot straightened her back. “You have no say in this. I’ll go straight to the board. And we both know they have the real power in this place.”

  The words stalled in Nadia’s throat for a split second. She relaxed back into her chair. “So that’s what this is all about.”

  “I’m sorry.” Margot’s shoulders sagged again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Nadia pursed her lips together. “No, it’s fine. Because you’re right.” My hands were tied, she wanted to say, but after what Juliette had told her about what Margot did to Claire in the bedroom, she considered it a poor choice of words. “I should have fought harder. I would have, if I had known this was going to be the outcome.” And I had never expected you to crumble like this, Nadia wanted to add.

  “The simple fact is that I can’t work side by side with her every day. I just can’t do it. I tried, but—” Despair glinted in Margot’s eyes.

  “I understand, but there could be alternative solutions. Have you asked Inez? Maybe she—”

  “I’m not asking her to leave because I can’t handle having her here,” Margot said quickly.

  “If you won’t, I will.” Nadia made her voice sound stern. “I mean it.”

  Margot glared at her from under her lashes. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Then beat me to it.” Nadia couldn’t be more serious and she hoped it came across successfully. “I’m not losing you to her. This hospital is not letting go of one of its best surgeons because of some fickle doctor without borders. No way.”

  “Dream on, Nadz. Do you really think asking Inez to leave will work?”

  “If she loves you as much as she claims she does, it should. She came back, tried to get you back, and failed—and destroyed your life in the process. If anyone should take a step back, it should be her. She’s a smart woman, she should be able to grasp that.”

  “It’s not just Inez, though. I broke Claire’s heart and I can’t live with that. Not in this city where everything reminds me of her.”

  “Oh, and you think it’s going to be easier somewhere else, where you’re all alone and starting from scratch? Hey, at least you’ll be able to double up on your mysterious, broken-hearted chick game. A lot of women really go for that. It’ll work like a charm.”

  This time, it was Margot’s turn to be too perplexed to reply. But Nadia wasn’t done yet.

  “You hit rock bottom… so what? We all have at some point, but guess what other people do? They get back up again and fix things.” Nadia bent over her desk for effect. “If you leave town, you can scrap me right off your friends’ list.”

  “In that case.” Margot pushed herself out of her chair, her eyes narrow and her lips drawn into a thin slit. “Who needs a friend like you?”

  “Sit down, I’m not done.”

  “Maybe you’re not, but I am.” Margot headed for the door.

  “Why don’t you try fighting for Claire. We both know she still loves you.”

  That stopped Margot in her tracks. She turned around and leaned with her back against the wall. “Claire and I are over.” Her voice trembled when she said it.

  “Everything is always so black and white with you. Do you even realise there’s an entire grayscale in between the extremes where you choose to live your life?”

  “We all make our own choices.” Margot caught a tear dripping from the corner of her eye. “I’ve made mine.” She spun around and exited Nadia’s office.

  When Nadia banged her fist on the desk this time it hit the wood with a loud bang—and all the force she had intended to put in it.

  CLAIRE

  “Give me your phone,” Steph said.

  “Why?” Claire looked at her friend over the rim of her cosmopolitan glass.

  “Because I’m stepping in.” Steph held out
her hand. “Have you opened that app your brother installed at all?”

  “Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Claire had started it up a few times and found a flurry of messages from strangers she wasn’t the least bit interested in, only resulting in her shutting down the app as soon as she had fired it up. “I’m still not interested.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m stepping in.” Steph was still holding out her hand, palm upwards.

  “What? You need your fix?” Claire covered her phone with her own hand, keeping it safe. “Now that you’ve found monogamy you want to live vicariously through me?”

  “Yes, Claire, that’s exactly what I want.” Steph rolled her eyes and dropped her hand.

  “Is Dominique coming to Nadia’s party next week?” Claire changed the subject.

  Steph nodded with slow movements of her head. “Yep. If nothing unexpected happens, she’ll be there.”

  “She’d better not RSVP positively and dare to not turn up. You know what Jules is like.” Claire grinned at Steph. It was so much easier talking about other people.

  “Have you noticed something strange about Jules lately? Either she’s seriously overcompensating or she’s up to something… And all this talk about children.” Steph rolled her eyes again.

  “She’s still in crisis mode, plugging holes at breakneck speed. It’s how she is. I’m sure it will all settle down soon enough.” Claire knew Juliette well enough to see through her current antics.

  “Do you think they’ll be all right in the end?” Steph sipped from her beer, resting her eyes on Claire.

  “I do. I really do.” Saying it made Claire remember that first night when Nadia had moved out and Margot had turned up on her motorcycle at Le Comptoir—like a knight in shining, motorised armour, saving someone else’s relationship. She pushed the thought away and focused her attention on Steph again.

  “Thank goodness for that.” Steph checked the liquid level of her beer. “Another?”

  “Why the hell not?” Claire drained the rest of her cosmo and signalled Tony that they’d be having the same again.

  “It’s not all doom and gloom, Claire.” A twinkle shone in Steph’s eyes. “Against MLR instructions, Dominique is voting for gay marriage in the Assemblée nationale.” Steph couldn’t hide the pride in her voice, as if she were single-handedly responsible for turning a conservative députée. Perhaps she was.

  “That’s bold. Then again, she can hardly vote against it in the afternoon and step into bed with you in the evening. I fully realise politics is a hypocritical business, but that would be a bit much.”

  “I know.” Steph nodded. “It just means a lot to me.”

  Tony arrived with their fresh drinks.

  “It’s not as if her vote will matter,” Steph continued. “The Socialists have got this one in the bag, anyway. But as a symbolic gesture, it counts.”

  “Let’s drink to that.” Claire raised her glass. “A few more of these and I’ll let you have a crack at my phone, work the old Steph magic.” It wasn’t even that much of a joke.

  “I’m your friend, right? One of your best,” Steph said.

  “You know you are.” Claire wondered where she was going with this.

  “And you trust me?” The glance Steph shot her was both hopeful and a little mocking.

  “Well, not as far as I can throw you, but to have my best interests at heart… yes, I do.” Claire giggled.

  “Then let me arrange one date.” She cocked her head to the left and shot Claire her most sultry smile. “The woman of your dreams may be walking along this very street as we speak. Who knows? Look at me, Claire. Do you think I ever expected to fall in love—really in love—with one of our clients? Sometimes, it just happens when you least expect it. And I know you’re still hung up on Margot. I know she was special and all that, but she’s not the only special woman out there, I promise.” She arched up her eyebrows suggestively. “I should know, right?”

  “Are you saying I should take advantage of your experience with the ladies?” Claire took a large gulp of her drink.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Steph held out her hand again. “Full transparency. I won’t contact anyone without asking your permission first.”

  Claire eyed her phone. She wasn’t drunk, but the first hints of a buzz numbed her brain a little, made her feel less apprehensive—and perhaps a bit more sorry for herself as well. “Deal,” she said, while slipping her phone in Steph’s direction. She could always cancel if she didn’t feel like it in the end. And if she were truly honest with herself, it beat another night home alone with a bottle of vodka.

  “Great.” Steph’s eyes twinkled. “And don’t act as if you’re all new to this either, Claire. Jules and Nadz met on the internet, and I know how the story goes.” She winked at Claire.

  “That was ten years ago.”

  “My point exactly. Do you have any idea how many more women have found their way to apps like this by now? It’s pussy galore.”

  “Oh christ.” Claire shook her head, but she was secretly glad that someone like Steph had her back. She watched Steph fiddle with her phone in silence and drank some more.

  “How about this one?” Steph held up the phone and showed her a picture of a blonde woman with blue eyes—about as much the opposite of Margot as anyone could be.

  “No. Isn’t there someone a bit more, uh, exotic on there?”

  “Hold on.” Steph focused on the phone again. “I’m just going through the messages you’ve already received. You got a new one about an hour ago from this woman…” She touched the screen twice and turned it around so Claire could see.

  “I guess.” Claire looked at the picture of a woman with tan skin, huge blue eyes and ruffled half-long dark-brown hair.

  “You guess? She’s a fucking stunner.” Steph shook her head.

  “Are there any other pictures of her?” Claire didn’t wait for Steph’s reply and swiped the screen of her phone, hoping to find more images of the woman. The next one showed her in full profile. She wasn’t very tall but wore that leather jacket and those Ray-Bans well. Not bad.

  “Can I reply?” Steph asked, her voice almost a stutter because of the excitement in it.

  “What will you say? Does the thing have any more information on her?”

  “Not a lot, but let’s find out. Let’s chit-chat.”

  Claire watched Steph type something. “Now we wait,” she said. “Let’s leave it on for notifications. Or do you want to totally slut it up and contact multiple prospects at once?”

  “Prospects?” Claire took another sip from her cosmo.

  “What a rush.” Steph beamed a smile at her. “And she hasn’t even texted back yet.”

  Now it was Claire’s time to roll her eyes. “Let’s have another because you’re not leaving me alone with this.”

  “I’m going to have to leave you alone with her at some point. You know that, right?” Steph chuckled.

  Claire looked around for Tony.

  * * *

  Claire had just put her feet up and settled in the sofa for the ten o’clock news when her phone buzzed. She and Steph had ended up having two more drinks, waiting for the ‘prospect’ to reply, to no avail.

  The message read: Hey, just got off work. Thanks for your reply.

  A workaholic? Shifts? Claire was curious—and definitely tipsy enough to not have any reservations about what she was doing.

  A fellow workaholic? She typed. Maybe her game was a bit off. Where was Steph when she needed her. Her phone beeped again a second later.

  Perhaps… want to discuss further over a drink? These phone keyboards are so annoying.

  Claire’s thoughts exactly… Regarding the keyboard, she wasn’t so sure about the drink. She checked the woman’s picture again. She really was rather hot.

  You’ll have to give me your name first. I’m Claire.

  Nice to meet you (virtually), Claire. My name is Sarah and I’m sorry for being so forward. ;-/

 
; Maybe she should ask for her e-mail address so they could correspond first. Correspond? Claire shook her head. She should just go for it. She had, after all, nothing to lose.

  How about Le Comptoir on avenue Mac-Mahon tomorrow evening? Or are you working?

  At least, if she met this stranger at Le Comptoir she’d feel sort of on home turf. And she could ask Steph to drop by if she needed rescuing.

  Free as a bird. 7.30?

  Sounds good.

  Claire already felt a bit stumped for words and this was supposed to be the easy part. She’d have to ask Steph for advice tomorrow. What would she wear? Should she even be doing this? Claire’s phone beeped twice in quick succession.

  I look forward to meeting you, Claire. Sweet dreams.

  P.S. At the risk of sounding corny, you have such beautiful eyes in your profile pic.

  Flattery already? It made her glow a little on the inside. But which profile picture was Sarah referring to? Claire hadn’t even checked it since her brother had set it up. She went into the settings and looked at a much younger, much healthier version of herself. Damn you, Sam, she muttered under her breath. It looked like Sarah was in for a bit of a disappointment. But what could she do? Take a selfie on the spot? Confess that she was one of those people who uses old pictures on the internet? Or worse, tell this perfect stranger that her brother had installed the app and her friend had instigated the conversation?

 

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