French Kissing: Season Three

by Harper Bliss

  STEPH

  Steph couldn’t get hold of Dominique and, instead, was speaking to Solange again. Steph and Solange had, at least in Steph’s opinion, a bit of a love-hate relationship going, especially since Steph had decided to take some more time for herself. As Dominique’s campaign manager, that had not gone down very well with Solange.

  “You’re not coming to the debate?” Solange now yelled into Steph’s ear. Solange really seemed to get a kick out of raising her voice. According to Dominique she had a brilliant strategic mind, but, in Steph’s opinion, that didn’t excuse her very blunt attitude.

  “I’m going to watch it at my friends’ place,” Steph calmly replied.

  “She’s not going to be happy, Steph.” Solange also enjoyed stating the obvious. Steph didn’t want to have this conversation with her, but, lately, more often than not, she had to endure many a conversation she didn’t want to have.

  “She will understand.” While Solange was very up to speed on Steph and Dominique’s private life—much more than Steph wanted her to be—she didn’t know about their latest struggle. “Believe me, she will. It’s not as if I can actually do anything there except stand to the side and smile.”

  “Moral support is the most important thing for a candidate,” Solange started again. But Steph had heard that particular spiel about a thousand times and she just tuned out Solange’s perpetually high-pitched voice.

  “Tell her to call me any time,” Steph said. “Bye, Solange.”

  After she hung up, she took a deep breath, shut down her computer and left the office. Steph had jumped at Nadia’s invitation to watch the big debate with her and the others. This didn’t mean that she wasn’t feeling guilty. This was the big final debate before the first round of elections next Sunday. It was a huge deal. But this was exactly the sort of thing they had talked about with Marion. Not that that talk had ended so well.

  Steph made her way down the Champs-Elysées, keeping her head down the way she’d gotten used to, before ducking into a side street and walking to the Boulevard Gouvion Saint-Cyr. Just as she passed Le Comptoir, her phone buzzed in her jeans pocket.

  “You’re not coming?” Dominique repeated Solange’s phrase from earlier.

  “No. I’d rather not.” It was so much harder to give a firm no to Dominique.

  “Really? Tonight of all nights you’re ditching me?” Dominique didn’t sound particularly upset. She sounded the way she always did on the campaign trail: in command of everyone who worked for her. Steph did, of course, technically also work for Dominique, but she wasn’t like any of her other aides—although sometimes she did feel like one of them.

  “I’m not ditching you. I would rather watch it with my friends. This is very stressful for me too. Watching from the sidelines in a TV studio is just not really an ideal environment.” Steph wasn’t entirely satisfied with her excuse. But did she really need one? She hadn’t had a night with her friends in such a long time.

  “Fine,” Dominique said, and hung up.

  And it was exactly this dynamic that was killing Steph on the inside. Of course, she wanted to be there for Dominique. But what about what she wanted? Would it really make such a difference to Dominique’s performance to have Steph there? Dominique had been charming people all her life with her articulate views on difficult issues. She would outshine Goffin perfectly without Steph by her side, Steph was sure of that. Having Steph around was a nice add-on for Dominique. A nice boost every time their gazes crossed. But for Steph’s life it was definitely a burden as it took away more and more from her. Surely Dominique could see that?

  Fuck it, she was going to enjoy her friends’ company, and watch Dominique be victorious over Goffin—because there was no doubt in her mind that she would be—and feel so proud when she did.

  ✶ ✶ ✶

  “Where’s Jules?” Steph asked after she’d kissed everyone hello. And did Claire and Margot really think they came across as ‘just friends’ to anyone with a working set of eyes? It was so obvious from the way they were huddled together in the sofa that they’d fallen in love again. Or had never fallen out of it in the first place.

  “She’s resting,” Nadia said. “Rough day.”

  “Bad news?” Steph asked. She knew that Juliette was getting the results back from her gynecological tests today. She had also figured out that was the reason Claire was allowed into the flat tonight.

  “Yes,” Nadia said. “She’s devastated.”

  “Poor Jules.” Over the past six months, Steph had still been aware of the goings-on in her friends’ lives, but on a different level than before. Gone were the days when she’d sit in either Juliette or Claire’s office and discuss matters of the heart. In between campaigning and work, Steph simply didn’t have the time. “How are you doing, Nadz?”

  Nadia shrugged. “I’ll hold it together.” Nadia didn’t look as though she was holding it together. “How are you?” Lately, Nadia seemed to have made a point of always explicitly asking Steph this question.

  “In a world of trouble for not attending the debate live,” Steph said, but that seemed so futile now in the face of the news Juliette had received today.

  “I didn’t know we were having a party. Or had any reason to have one.” Juliette, her face pale as a sheet, suddenly appeared in the living room. She had thrown her arms around herself as if she was cold. Margot shot up immediately and rushed to her side.

  “It’s not a party, babe,” Nadia said. “It’s the debate.”

  Steph noticed how Juliette’s gaze roamed across the living room and landed on Claire for an instant. Then she looked at Nadia again. “Oh,” she said. Juliette looked as though someone had reached inside of her and forcefully removed her spirit.

  “How are you feeling?” Margot asked.

  “Not quite ready for a party, but I do want to watch the debate.” Juliette held onto Margot’s arm and together they walked towards the sofa. Nadia made room for her, and Juliette crashed down next to her.

  The TV played at a low volume. Pundits were predicting the outcome of the debate and they all stared at the TV in silence for a while. Steph had made a mistake when comparing the stress levels of spending the evening here with her friends and watching the debate live. You could cut the tension with a knife in this living room—and it wasn’t because of the impending debate.

  Who was actually getting along with whom at this point in time? Steph had to really rack her brain. Juliette was probably pissed with the whole world right now. But Margot and Claire seemed very chummy. Nadia didn’t know where to look.

  “How about a refill?” Steph asked, though most of them still had a half full glass of wine.

  This was not them. This wasn’t the group of friends she knew and loved—and had missed so much.

  “I’ll have some,” Juliette said, because no one had served her yet. It was more than an hour before the debate even started. Was this how they were going to spend it? Examining their nails as if their lives depended on it while second-guessing everything they said?

  Steph fetched a glass for Juliette from the kitchen and poured her a modest amount.

  “Don’t be stingy.” Juliette shot Steph a sort-of smile that broke Steph’s heart a little.

  “Okay, look.” Steph was still standing and towered over them. “I know there is some bad blood here tonight, and a hell of a lot of disappointment to overcome. All of that, I know and understand. But by the way we’re sitting here you’d think we weren’t people who’ve known each other for such a long time. Let’s talk about it, okay? We’re French, for heaven’s sake. Talking is what we do.”

  “Are you perhaps a bit tense, Steph?” Claire asked.

  “Yes, I’m tense,” Steph said. “Much more than before I walked in here. What’s going on with all of you? I’m not saying we should solve everything right here and now, but let’s not pussyfoot around it. Let’s just throw it all out in the open. I’ll start.” Steph cleared her throat. “I’m in therapy for not b
eing able to deal with being a presidential candidate’s high-profile partner. I’ve been having some issues, and I’ve started talking about them. My issues are not solved—not by a long shot. But my point is that talking about it is always going to help more than brooding on it and letting it fester.”

  “Bloody hell, Steph,” Juliette said in between taking large gulps of wine. “Needed to get that off your chest, did you?” Nadia stared at Juliette’s half-full wine glass for a bit too long apparently because Juliette snapped at her. “What? I can’t have a drink now? It’s not as if I’m pregnant, is it?”

  “There’s no need to be rude, Jules,” Steph said. She’d started it, so she had to do her best to keep it under control.

  “Don’t you think I know why you’re all here?” Juliette wasn’t done. “Because I’m so fragile and volatile and my wife here”—she cut her eyes to Nadia—“probably didn’t want to deal with the problem that is Juliette Barbier on her own.” Juliette stopped to drink again.

  “Jules, please. Now is not the time,” Nadia said.

  “It’s my fault,” Claire interjected. “I wanted to stay. And we thought it would be good to have a doctor at hand.”

  “You wanted to stay. That’s a good one, Claire. If you wanted a doctor to be here so badly, then I’m surprised you didn’t invite the divine Doctor Dievart you and Nadia are so fond of.”

  Oh fuck. This was spiraling out of control. If only Marion were here. She’d know what to say to suck the tension out of this situation.

  “Time-out!” Steph shouted, just like Marion had done with her and Dominique. “I said talk to each other, not insult each other as much as possible,” Steph said. “There’s not a single person in this room who doesn’t love the other dearly in their own way. This is not how friends behave.” Steph shot Jules a stern look, because she realized she was actually giving her more ammunition. “Friends forgive each other.” Steph was still standing. She felt like an evangelical priest giving a sermon. “What has become of us?” Steph worked her butt off for Juliette and Claire. She kept their secrets when they needed her to. She was there for them when they needed to vent. “You are my best friends, for crying out loud. I came here tonight to get away from the whole campaign circus and to have a relaxing time, not for a bloody fight.”

  “You kind of started it, Steph,” Nadia said.

  “Yeah,” Juliette added. “Just because you are in therapy doesn’t mean you need to come here and tell us off.”

  Steph guessed that Juliette backing Nadia up was at least a form of progress. It was true that she was in over her head, and had lately been in a mood to just throw everything on the table and hash it out.

  “I’m just trying to help,” Steph said, before sitting down again.

  “We know you are,” Margot said, “and I applaud you for that, Stéphanie. I really do.”

  “I’m sorry for what I said about Dievart,” Juliette almost-whispered. “It was out of line. I shouldn’t have said that. I always speak much faster than I think.”

  Nadia wrapped an arm around Juliette’s shoulder. “And I can deal with the Juliette Barbier problem just fine, honey,” she said to Juliette. “I’ve been doing it for a long time, remember?”

  “Don’t you get tired of having to do that though?” Juliette asked. “I get so, so tired of it myself.”

  “You had a very taxing day,” Margot said. Steph started to consider her as the Marion of their group. “And nobody here is tired of you.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re not a bloody challenge at times, Jules,” Steph said, eager to lighten up the tone a little.

  “As a wise woman said to me the other day,” Margot said, while putting her hand on Claire’s knee. “We’re all just trying to get by, with all our flaws and imperfections. And life can just be such a bitch sometimes.” Margot actually chuckled briefly after her last statement. Steph hadn’t expected the b-word to ever come out of the good doctor’s mouth. She just wasn’t the kind of person who used it.

  “What’s going on with you two?” Juliette inquired and almost looked Claire in the eyes. “Are you back together again or what?”

  “No. No.” Margot quickly removed her hand from Claire’s knee. “We’re friends.”

  “Good friends,” Claire confirmed.

  “Sure,” Juliette said, and drank again.

  Claire reshuffled her weight and, Steph could clearly see, scooted away from Margot a little in the sofa. What were they doing? It was just so obvious. Did they really not see?

  “Did you come here on your new motorcycle, Margot?” Steph asked.

  “I did,” Margot said, while her cheeks flushed bright red. “In fact, I picked it up today.”

  “You have a new motorcycle?” Juliette’s eyes grew wide.

  “Claire gave it to her,” Steph said.

  “Claire did what?” Juliette’s amazement seemed to be growing and growing. Then, she finally looked Claire straight in the face. “What are you going to get me, Claire? Surely, I deserve an extravagant present as well?” A short silence ensued. A stand-off between the two best friends. Margot was opening her mouth to speak, but Claire beat her to it.

  “Anything you want, Jules,” Claire said.

  Steph was fully expecting a snide comment from Juliette. “I have to think about it,” was all Juliette said, which surprised Steph greatly. She was glad she had spoken up. After all, she didn’t want to have ditched Dominique for a fucked-up evening with her friends.

  “I think it’s about to start,” Margot, who sat facing the TV, said. They all turned toward the screen and watched as the candidates walked out on stage.

  MARGOT

  “Hey, er…” Margot was dillydallying in her own kitchen. It was Saturday morning and Claire was brewing coffee wearing nothing but her panties and a quickly thrown-over T-shirt. “Do we need to talk?”

  Ever since that awkward moment in Nadia and Juliette’s sofa the other night, she’d been working up the courage to ask Claire that question. Claire had been staying with her for two weeks now, and it wasn’t that Margot minded her company, but more that she couldn’t deal with what it so clearly implied.

  “Depends.” Claire turned around. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I don’t mind you staying here. I really don’t. But I was wondering if you had a different motive than avoiding Juliette in the street. Because that one doesn’t really hold up anymore, does it?”

  “Fair enough.” The coffee machine made a gurgling noise behind Claire. “I guess that I must really enjoy staying here with you. In fact…” Claire stood with her long legs crossed at the ankle and the sight of it was highly distracting for Margot. “I’ve even been thinking about suggesting we become flatmates.”

  “Flatmates?” Margot had lived alone for most of her adult life.

  “Well, yes. I think we work well as two people living together and, frankly, I’m sick of coming home to an empty flat. Which is one of the other reasons I haven’t moved back yet.”

  “Do you mean you want to move in here with me?”

  Claire pulled up her shoulders and her fringe fell in front of her eyes. She pushed it behind her ear with that cute gesture of hers. “Not necessarily. We have options. We could rent out our respective flats and get a bigger one. I haven’t really given the details much thought…”

  “I don’t know, Claire, I…” If they were going to become flatmates, they would have to establish a clear set of rules addressing the state of undress in the common areas. “I need to think about it.”

  “Yes, of course you do.” The coffee machine had stopped producing noise, indicating the coffee was ready. “Is it okay if I stay a while longer?”

  “Of course.” Margot didn’t want Claire to leave either, though she could do with the space to think everything through. “I told you, you can stay as long as you like.”

  “It’s so much fun to live in a different neighborhood. I’ve been in the seventeenth for years now. Saint-Germain
is so cozy and gorgeous.”

  “And touristy,” Margot added.

  “And pricey!” Claire said. “You stand to make a fortune on this place if you ever decide to sell.”

  “Look, Claire…” Margot felt they were going off topic a bit too much. This was not supposed to be a discussion about becoming flatmates. Asking Claire how long she was going to stay had just been the hook Margot had intended to use to get to the bigger point. “Do you, um, think there’s more going on here than friendship?”

  This gave Claire pause. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “Are you asking if I’m still attracted to you?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m asking.” Of course, in asking that particular question, Margot was setting herself up for having to answer it herself. The way Claire was standing there right now, Margot was having a hard time not taking a step in her direction and kissing her.

  Claire didn’t immediately reply, just stood there in silence for a while, with her impossibly smooth legs crossed at the ankles. “My honest answer would have to be… yes. Yes, I am attracted to you. The only thing is that I’m not sure I can trust myself anymore when it comes to that. I spoke to Nadia about this and she said I’d better make damn sure of everything before I made any sort of move and since then all I’ve been wondering is: how can I ever be a hundred percent sure? I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you again, Margot. What we have now is way too important for that. I value this friendship we’re building more than anything. It’s what’s kept me going these past two weeks. I don’t know what I would have done without you. And because of all of this, I have this huge affection for you, but it’s also confusing the hell out of me.”

  Margot swallowed hard. She didn’t know what to do with Claire’s words. She didn’t know where to catalogue being the recipient of a brand new motorcycle in her mind: under love, or under friendship, or a combination of the two? Then there was that flutter in her stomach at standing opposite Claire like this. Maybe Margot just needed to be touched. And how inappropriate was it exactly to be feeling so incredibly horny in this moment? “I’m attracted to you, Claire. I get all that you’re saying. It makes perfect sense to me, but I seem to have the hots for you again and it doesn’t help that you’re not wearing pants.”