French Kissing: Season Three

by Harper Bliss

“Yes,” Claire said. Margot’s flat felt more like home these days than her own. She watched how Margot’s deft fingers made quick work of buttoning up her jeans, and Claire already felt a stirring in her loins again. “I think we need a shower,” she added. “Together.”

  STEPH

  Steph had long ago resigned herself to the fact that she would never feel totally at ease at an MLR event. They might have had two female members vying for the presidential candidate’s position, but that didn’t mean that the top spots in the leadership were not still reserved for middle-aged men with big egos. Or perhaps Steph simply couldn’t help being judgmental about these things. She’d never much cared for politics, and if pressed to make a choice, the MLR would never have been her preference. But today, she’d voted MLR. And now she stood amidst a bunch of people in expensive suits, having lost track of Dominique hours ago. She was in the crowd somewhere, getting cheered on every time an exit poll result came in.

  “Hello stranger,” a familiar voice said behind her. Steph turned and faced Marion, who offered her a drink. “I thought you could use this.”

  “You’re a life saver.” Steph meant it in more ways than one and greedily took the glass of white wine Marion held out to her.

  “A drink and a friendly face are really the bare minimum to make it through an MLR event when you don’t care that much for politics.” Marion smiled at her.

  “Are you allowed to say that out loud?” Steph chuckled then took a greedy gulp from the wine. One thing she’d learned was that, no matter the occasion, the MLR never skimped on wine. It was fruity and cool and very soothing for Steph’s nerves.

  “These people stopped listening to what I have to say the day I decided to devote my life to other things than the party,” Marion said.

  “But here you are, anyway.” Steph held Marion’s gaze. Were they friends now? She hadn’t gone to see her yesterday and, for some reason, she was bursting to tell Marion about her and Dominique’s bedroom revival, but this was hardly the time nor the place for that.

  “I have to support our girl. I think what she has done is awe-inspiring. Dominique’s about to make history. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

  “Marion Lavalle. Is that you?” Dominique’s mother stood beside them. Eléonore was the only reason Steph made it through the Laroche family dinners she was now regularly attending.

  “In the flesh,” Marion said, and they started chatting between themselves, making Steph feel the way she always did at events like these. But then, through the crowd, she caught a glimpse of Dominique and waited for her to turn around. When she did and locked eyes with Steph for a brief moment, Steph felt it in every cell of her body. Then Dominique’s attention was snagged by someone else, and Steph was back to feeling like she didn’t entirely belong.

  Marion and Eléonore were still chatting away like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in ages, but Steph was grateful that, at least, it hadn’t been Xavier Laroche coming to greet Marion. She and Dominique’s father would never see eye to eye. They were not only from a different generation and harbored a totally opposite mindset about most things in life, but to Xavier, Steph would always be the woman who’d made a lesbian out of his daughter and the first female president of France. He’d never said it as such, and Steph might be a bit paranoid when it came to him, but no matter how courteous he was with her, Steph could never shake the impression that Xavier would rather be chatting with the respectable likes of Philippe—or any other male suitor for his daughter.

  “How’s the future first lady holding up.” Again, a familiar voice came from behind Steph’s back. This time it was a voice Steph couldn’t place at an MLR event. What was Juliette doing here?

  Steph turned around and found that not only Juliette was here, but Nadia, Claire and Margot as well.

  “We hear they serve free-flow champagne at MLR victory parties so we thought we’d come check it out,” Claire said and hugged Steph.

  Steph hadn’t expected a friend’s hug to have such a profound effect on her, but she felt her muscles relax with relief nonetheless. She hadn’t asked her friends to join her and Dominique at the MLR headquarters because she hadn’t wanted to put them in a position where they couldn’t refuse. Nor had she wanted to ruin a perfectly good Sunday afternoon for them.

  “They let everyone in these days,” Steph joked when she broke free from Claire’s embrace and kissed the others on the cheek.

  “Even socialist riffraff like us,” Juliette said. “We’ve come to spy for the enemy, of course.”

  “How are you holding up?” Nadia asked.

  “Fine, now that you guys are here.” Steph felt herself getting a little emotional so she quickly sipped from her wine.

  “We weren’t going to miss this party,” Juliette said.

  “If it isn’t my PR team.” Steph felt a pair of arms fold around her from behind. “Welcome all,” Dominique said.

  “We hope to be toasting to you soon,” Nadia said.

  “It’s only the first round. I keep having to remind people of that,” Dominique said. “Possible victory is still a while away.” She kept her arms around Steph’s waist, quite possibly inviting a few stares from bystanders, but Steph invited them all to take a good look.

  “You even swayed me to vote MLR for the first time in my life,” Claire said.

  “You’ve changed her,” Margot added, and curled an arm around Claire’s shoulders.

  “I haven’t been around much lately,” Dominique said. “But I take it everyone is firmly back together and all issues have been smoothed over?”

  If Steph hadn’t been so deliriously happy in that moment with Dominique’s arms around her, and her friends surrounding her, and with Marion only a few feet away, she would have panicked at that question.

  “We certainly are back on.” Claire broke out into a big smile and pecked Margot on the cheek. “My mother always taught me to never let a doctor go.” Then she looked at Juliette. “And I gave Jules a puppy so she had no choice but to forgive me.”

  Juliette rolled her eyes, but had a grin on her face nevertheless.

  “What? No drama?” Steph asked. “Everything has been resolved?”

  “Yep.” Nadia nodded. “So we’ve actually come here to celebrate many things.”

  “I’m going to have to start reading Le Matin to get my daily dose of gossip,” Dominique said with a grin. “I’ll see all of you soon.” She kissed Steph on the cheek and dissolved into the crowd.

  “Let me get you all some much-deserved drinks then.” Steph exhaled deeply. “And, Jules, get off your phone.”

  “I’m just checking the latest polls.” Worry crossed her face.

  “What? Why are you pulling that face.” Steph asked. So much could still go wrong. This was only the first round, as Dominique kept pointing out.

  “Nothing.” Juliette slid her phone into her purse.

  “Come on, Jules. Tell me,” Steph insisted.

  “Just a tiny, to-be-expected dip in the polls, that’s it. I promise,” Juliette said.

  “Okay.” Steph wasn’t convinced. She’d been unpleasantly surprised by messages she’d gotten via her phone one too many times. And it was never too late for someone to pull a stunt. The first round celebrations were actually an excellent time for someone to launch another attack. Dominique might very well win the first round, but she still had to face a second if she didn’t get a high enough percentage of the vote in the first. Everything was still possible.

  JULIETTE

  “Ask Claire to meet me outside,” Juliette whispered in Nadia’s ear. Nadia looked at her with one eyebrow quirked up.

  “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” she asked, thankfully in a low voice.

  “I don’t want to alarm Steph. I just received an, um, distressing email.” If they kept whispering in each other’s ears like this, Steph would have them sussed out soon enough.

  “Fine.” Nadia nudged Claire in the biceps and whispered in her ear. A wo
man who looked a lot like Dominique had just tapped Steph on the shoulder, making Steph turn around and not pay any attention to them.

  “What is it?” Claire said under her breath.

  “A problem,” Juliette said. “Come with me, please.” Juliette headed for the door, hoping Claire would follow without asking any more questions.

  “What?” Claire asked with impatience in her voice. Juliette had walked until she’d reached the end of the street. They now huddled just around the corner.

  “Someone’s come out of the woodwork claiming to be doing us a favor.” Juliette retrieved her phone from her bag. “Sybille sent me an email saying that Le Matin will be publishing an article about Steph tomorrow to discredit Dominique if she wins today. To clear the path for a Socialist victory next week.”

  “What? I didn’t think the Socialists would play dirty like that? What do they have on her?” Claire held out her hand to read the message on Juliette’s phone.

  While she read, Juliette’s mind went into overdrive. It was never really over until it was over.

  “What’s Le Noir?” Claire asked. “I mean, this sounds totally made-up to me.”

  “Trust me. It’s real. And this is the last thing Steph and Dominique need right now. This could undo all the work we’ve done.”

  “Why is she telling you this? Is it a trap? Because I think we can both agree Sybille is not to be trusted, no matter what she has to say about seeing the error of her ways.”

  “What’s going on?” Thank goodness it was only Nadia rounding the corner.

  “Sybille emailed me.” Juliette had no time to worry about feeling mortified at saying her former assistant’s name. “She claims Le Matin will be publishing statements from women Steph has met at Le Noir tomorrow.”

  “Le Noir?” Nadia shook her head. “That can’t be true.”

  “Will someone please tell me what this mysterious Le Noir is?” Claire asked.

  “It’s a private members’ club for women,” Nadia explained.

  “So?” Claire pulled up her shoulders. “What’s the problem with that?”

  “It’s a sex club, Claire,” Juliette said. “Very exclusive and very secretive.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Claire’s eyes grew wide.

  “That’s exactly it, though,” Nadia said. “Granted, I don’t know much about it, but the whole place is founded on those exact pillars of exclusivity and secrecy.”

  “Money buys secrets, Nadz. Especially at election time,” Juliette said while scratching her head. “I’m going to have to call Sybille. I want to get to the bottom of this.” Juliette found Nadia’s eyes, silently asking for permission.

  “Do it, Jules,” Nadia said with a stern voice. “Do what you have to do.”

  Juliette didn’t have Sybille’s number in her phone anymore, but Sybille had left a phone number at the bottom of her email. Juliette drew in a deep breath and dialed the number. If there was anyone whose voice she’d never wanted to hear again, it was Sybille’s. But she needed to find out what Sybille—or anyone else—was playing at. She had to do it for Steph. This news could not make the front page.

  “Allo,” Sybille said at the other end of the line. “Juliette?”

  “Listen to me very carefully, Sybille. I don’t have time for games or any of your bullshit.” Juliette was trying to impress Nadia as much as Sybille with her firm tone. “Either you tell me everything you know or you hang up right now.”

  “Put her on speaker,” Claire whispered. Juliette had nothing left to lose by doing so and pressed the button.

  “I was approached this morning by Favreau of Le Matin. The journalist I, er, spoke to before.” Oh yes, we remember, you bitch, Juliette thought, but kept her thoughts wisely to herself. “To ask if I had anything to add to the story. I agreed to meet with him, only to feel him out. I would never say anything harmful about Stéphanie or Dominique anymore. I need you to know that, Juliette. I’ve learned from my mistakes and I think what they are doing for all of us by being so open about their relationship is just so—”

  “Spare me your remorse. Tell me what the journalist said,” Juliette urged. Sybille’s apologies after the fact were about to make her vomit—and so was having to hear her voice while Nadia was listening and watching.

  “The Socialists dug up this filth on Steph. They have agreed with Le Matin to hand it over to them to publish if there’s a second round because it could greatly help them. From what I understand they will keep it to themselves if Dominique is elected in the first round, because then it wouldn’t matter anymore. That’s all I know.”

  “Why is this happening now? Why did they not come out with this sooner?” Juliette asked.

  “I think they’ve only very recently managed to get people to talk.”

  “And Goffin would really stoop that low?” Juliette didn’t hold France’s current president in very high regard, but she had a hard time believing he would go this far.

  “He’s down in the polls. It’ll even be a miracle if he makes it past today, but if he does, he’s going all out. The gloves will come off and he’ll be playing really dirty.”

  “What a giant hypocrite that man is.”

  “I don’t want Steph’s name dragged through the mud like that. She doesn’t deserve that. I sent you that email as soon as I finished my meeting with Favreau.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Was she really thanking Sybille? Now that Juliette had her on the phone, she might as well ask her what had been burning on her mind since Steph’s face had appeared on the front page of Le Matin the first time. “Tell me honestly, Sybille. Were you working for the ANF?”

  Sybille didn’t immediately reply. “No, Juliette. I promise you I wasn’t. I was never working for anyone. I just screwed up.”

  “Royally,” Juliette added.

  “I hope I can make amends—”

  “Bye, Sybille.” Juliette hung up and looked at Claire and Nadia.

  “What are we going to do?” Claire asked.

  “I don’t see what we can do,” Juliette said. “We can only wait and hope.”

  “Freedom of the press has been stretched a bit too far in this country of late,” Nadia said. She took a step closer to Juliette. “Are you okay, babe?” she asked.

  Juliette sighed. “I am.” She grabbed hold of Nadia’s hand, needing some physical support. “But Dominique’s going to need a landslide first-round victory. I’m not saying she won’t be able to win the second round if she doesn’t, but if this comes out… it will ruin Steph. And drag every other lesbian’s name through the mud for that matter, because people just love to generalize and over-simplify.”

  “She’s going to win, Jules. I just know it,” Claire said.

  “I sure hope you’re right.” Juliette squeezed Nadia’s hand a little tighter.

  “Are we going to tell Steph?” Nadia asked.

  “I don’t think we should,” Juliette said. “Perhaps she’ll never need to find out.”

  “The Socialists have the information, Jules,” Claire said. “They might sit on it tomorrow, but they will have it at the ready the first time they want to really hurt Dominique. On the day she takes office, for instance.”

  “No they bloody won’t,” Juliette said. “I will make damned sure they won’t have a shred of story to tell by then. As I live and breathe, I will make this go away. We’ve been in this business long enough, Claire. We can come up with something. Long-term, we can fix this. Right now, though, there’s nothing we can do. If Dominique doesn’t get fifty percent of the vote, Steph’s face will be on the front page again tomorrow.”

  NADIA

  “Where have you been?” Steph asked. They had agreed not to tell her about Sybille’s message just yet. Only if it became necessary would they worry her with that. Because, to them, this was Steph’s day as much as Dominique’s. She had agreed to put herself out there, and become a target, for Dominique. Nadia knew damn well that Steph had suffered enough already because of it. She’d had t
o reinvent herself, and constantly adapt to an ever-changing set of rules. Steph deserved a break. From Juliette’s tone Nadia knew that her wife would not rest before she’d made this disappear, provided she was given the time to do it. She’d strike a deal with someone—with the devil if she had to—to save Steph the embarrassment.

  “Just getting some air,” Nadia said.

  Steph slanted her head and looked at Nadia funnily, then said, “I know. It’s the smell of conservatism hanging in the air. It gets to me too sometimes.” Steph slapped Nadia lightly on the arm. “I’m so glad you’re here, Nadz. It means a lot.”

  Nadia gave Steph a warm smile, then, behind Steph, spotted a face in the crowd she’d thought she would never have to encounter again. “Figures,” she said.

  “What?” Steph asked.

  “Leclerq. My most favorite Saint-Vincent board member,” she said ironically. “Of course he’s an MLR member. That’s why clichés were invented.” Her shoulders sagged a little. “He’s also Inez Larue’s uncle and the one who gave me no choice but to hire her. He recently retired, so I gladly believed I was rid of him forever.”

  “Welcome to my world, Nadz.” Steph spread her arms. “This is a far cry from Les Pêches, don’t you think?”

  “It’s a step up,” Nadia said. She kept her eye on Leclerq, hoping she could avoid him for the rest of the evening. She wondered what a man like that thought about Dominique Laroche as president. Then she wondered what had happened to Inez after she left Saint-Vincent. Leclerq had never given her a hard time about that, so she must have spun him a tale that had nothing to do with reality.

  “Let’s go one of these days,” Steph said.

  “Go where?” Nadia had been lost in thought.

  “Let’s go to Les Pêches. All of us together. Just for old times’ sake.” Steph’s eyes brightened.

  “Sure.” Nadia would happily extract Steph from the stuffy world she’d been spending so much time in and spend some time with her at her old stomping ground. Then she thought about the consequences of Le Matin publishing that article. Only once, when she’d been at her very lowest after her affair with Dominique had first made headline news, had Steph briefly mentioned Le Noir to Nadia, but Nadia had urged her to shut up about it immediately. Nadia had heard the rumors about the club but she didn’t know exactly how it worked and what the requirements were to get in. But she could see the headline already: “From Le Noir To L’Elysée”. Steph was strong, and she could take a lot, but the kind of character assassination Le Matin was aiming for would be too much even for her.