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Season Five: French Kissing, Book 5

Page 18

by Harper Bliss


  “What’s going on? Why isn’t Steph or Juliette with you?”

  “I think you’ll want to keep this between us for now.” Leah swiped the screen of her phone a few times. “Before I started working for Barbier & Cyr, I worked at Johnson PR—Rivière’s PR agency. I still have some friends there and someone sent me this.” She showed Solange the screen.

  Solange only had to see two seconds of the video to realise what it was. After all, she herself had unearthed the same porn video starring Aurore after she’d first met her—she had used it to threaten the woman she would later fall in love with.

  “Merde.” She gave the phone back. “The Rivière campaign has this.”

  Leah nodded.

  “What are they going to do with it? Are they going to use it?”

  “As far as I know, they’re not sure.”

  “How can they even consider using it? Aurore was one of their own.”

  “I guess the key word in that sentence is ‘was’.”

  “Oh Christ. This can’t get out. Can we negotiate?”

  Leah sighed. “The person in charge of Rivière’s campaign is… how to put it. More ruthless than anyone I’ve ever met—and I work in PR. She’s made a quick rise in the company because of that very personality trait and is one of the reasons I left.”

  “Sybille Gomez,” Solange said, while her heart started hammering in her chest.

  “You know her.” Leah put her phone away.

  “I know of her. And not just because she’s leading Rivière’s campaign.” It just never, ever stops, Solange thought. Moreover, this was personal. This was a hit on her. Sybille was trying to undermine her—using Solange’s relationship with Aurore to get to Dominique. It was utterly despicable and unacceptable. “Thank you for bringing this to me.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Good question.” The first thing Solange needed to do, was talk to Aurore. Or no, she had to inform Dominique. If this was going to be in the Sunday papers—on the very day of the last debate—they had no time to waste.

  “Can you find out more?” Solange asked.

  “I’m not sure. The person who sent me this is already risking a lot, but I can assure you that not everyone working on Rivière’s campaign is in favour of leaking this video. It’s the lowest blow possible. It’s vile. And so very Sybille.”

  “We have to stop this from getting out at any cost. The fewer people know about this video, the better.” Solange took a deep breath in. “Looks like I’m going to have to call Sybille.”

  “Can you leave my name out of this?” Leah asked.

  “I’ll do my best. I promise.” Promises like that were so flimsy in politics, but Solange would try nonetheless. Just maybe, she could nip this in the bud before Dominique found out at all—because she needed all her attention focused on the debate.

  Images of the video flashed through Solange’s mind. When she had first found it, no matter her opinion on porn, she hadn’t been able to look away. But now that she shared a bed with Aurore—now that she loved Aurore—being confronted with that video again felt like a merciless blow to the stomach.

  The campaign had been clean so far, but now, it looked like the gloves were off. This may very well be a reaction to the news of the wedding date leaking—to puncture a hole in Dominique’s wholesome image. While Dominique had nothing to do with this video at all.

  Her only connection to it was Solange.

  “What do you want?” Solange asked. Sybille was a striking woman, but there was something in her glance—a dishonesty that she’d never be able to hide.

  They were meeting in a deserted park not far from the Elysée and Solange glanced around feverishly.

  “Quite honestly?” Sybille said, her voice calm. “Revenge.”

  “Revenge for what?”

  “Revenge for how those bitches at Barbier & Cyr treated me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You think you’re going to swing the vote by ‘leaking’ the president’s wedding date?” She shook her head. “Maybe you’ve forgotten who exactly she’s going to marry.”

  Solange knew that before the first round of the previous presidential election, Sybille had alerted Juliette and Claire to an article by Le Matin which was supposed to ruin Dominique’s chances in the second round. This article exposed Stéphanie as a customer of some dubious night club called Le Noir. Luckily, Dominique had scored a landslide victory in the first round and the article had never been published.

  “What has that got to do with that video of Aurore?” Although, put in perspective, leaking the video would do much less harm to the campaign than dredging up those images of Steph from five years ago.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Sybille scoffed. “The president’s chief of staff is sleeping with a porn star.” She threw her hands in the air. “What better gift from the universe could I have possibly hoped for to win this election?”

  “Aurore is not a porn star,” Solange hissed. Her heart started beating in her throat. Perhaps she wasn’t the best person to handle this. It was too personal—and that was saying something, because nothing had ever been too personal for Solange. “What does it take to leave her out of this?”

  “Nothing you can offer me.” Sybille painted a haughty smile on her face.

  “Then why did you agree to meet?”

  “Because I wanted to see the look on your face when I told you.”

  “Told me what?” Solange’s heartbeat had started to resemble a jackhammer.

  “That’s it’s done. My people are tweeting the link to this video as we speak.”

  “No fucking way.” Even in politics—even in a hard-fought presidential campaign—there was still a modicum of honour to be expected. Not so when dealing with Sybille Gomez and Anne Rivière, it appeared. How the latter had been swayed to turn against someone who had been her adviser—and friend—was a mystery to Solange.

  Either way, it was done. She reached for her phone to check. She had wasted precious time meeting Sybille. She had to get back to the Elysée.

  On her way, she called Juliette and Steph. Aurore would have to wait.

  Juliette

  “No way is that salope doing this to us again.” Juliette was fuming.

  “Jules, you need to calm down,” Steph said.

  “Why didn’t I know about this video?” She looked Solange straight in the eye. “You must have known.”

  “Because I never in a million years would have thought it would be used against us. Not by someone like Rivière,” Solange said.

  Juliette shook her head. “This is politics. Anything goes these days, or so it seems.”

  “Ladies, please.” Steph made a quiet-down gesture with her hands. “Let’s not blame each other for this. This is on Sybille.”

  “And on Rivière,” Solange said.”

  Images of Sybille’s smug face flashed through Juliette’s mind. How the mistakes of her past had come back to haunt her. And Claire wasn’t here to help her deal with it.

  “It’s also on me,” she admitted. “Sybille must have been waiting a long time for this.”

  “She did say she wanted revenge on, and I quote,” Solange said, “’those bitches at Barbier & Cyr’. Is there something I should know?”

  “Sybille was my assistant for a while. We had to let her go.”

  “Because you had to let her go, she has unearthed this very obscure video of Aurore?”

  Juliette understood Solange’s confusion. “We had a brief affair. It didn’t end well.”

  “It must have ended really badly for her to pull a stunt like this now.” Solange’s voice shot up. “And it was your affair, which has nothing to do with Dominique—or me.”

  “Sybille bided her time and she has power now,” Steph said.

  Juliette’s phone kept on buzzing with message alerts. Was this all her fault? Then another thought popped into her head. “Steph,” she said. “The article about you visiting Le Noir
that Le Matin never published.”

  Steph expelled a deep sigh. “Sybille’s got us by the throat.”

  Juliette shook her head. “No, no. We made a deal with that journalist. What’s his name. Favreau. He handed over all the evidence.”

  “Journalism has changed so much over the past five years,” Solange said. “And you can’t trust a reporter of Le Matin. Sybille could have gotten in touch with him, asked him for his contacts, done some of her own digging. Clearly, this woman’s out for blood.”

  “If they would stoop low enough to put out the video of Aurore, nothing’s stopping them from using the information on Steph as well.” Juliette read only desperation on the faces of her friends.

  “Obviously, Sybille can’t be reasoned with,” Solange said.

  “But Sybille’s not the boss. Anne Rivière is.” Juliette looked at Solange. She could hardly ask her to inquire with Aurore if she would talk to Rivière. Not after what Rivière had done to her. “We need to appeal to her sense of decency. Surely this is not how she wants to win.”

  “We need someone to approach Rivière,” Steph said. “Someone not directly involved with Dominique’s campaign but who has the balls and intelligence to get a promise out of Rivière.”

  “I disagree. Dominique should be the one to talk to her. Be the bigger person in this,” Solange said.

  “Dominique has a win-or-lose debate with Rivière tomorrow. On top of the damage to her image, this is all meant to be one big distraction.” Juliette knew exactly who they needed.

  “Dominique can handle it,” Steph said. “She has handled far worse. If they think they can destabilise her with this vile shit…” Her voice petered out.

  “I can give a press conference,” Solange said.

  “Have you spoken to Aurore?” Steph asked. “We should get her over here.”

  Juliette witnessed Solange crumble right in front of them.

  “How did it come to this?” Solange’s voice cracked.

  “I take that as a no.” Steph reached for her phone. “I’ll call her.”

  “No.” Solange held up her hand. “That’s my job.” She left her office and went somewhere more private to make the call.

  “Why hasn’t she spoken to Aurore yet?” Juliette asked. “Have they broken up again?”

  “No, and that’s not the issue.” Steph rubbed her face. “You’d think we’re up against the ANF again, what with the dirty tactics being deployed. Turns out that when it comes to campaigning, they’re more decent than the Socialists.”

  Juliette shook her head. “Remember what happened last time? It’s not because they’re left-wing that they’re above slinging mud.”

  “But that was Goffin,” Steph said. “I truly did believe Rivière was above this kind of bullshit.”

  “Maybe she was before Sybille started working for her.” Juliette paused and found Steph’s glance. “I have an idea. If one of us talks to Sybille, it’s only going to throw oil onto the fire. I doubt Rivière will even grant us an audience.”

  Steph looked her in the eye and nodded. “We need Claire,” she said, reading Juliette’s mind.

  “Why was this video not dealt with before this campaign even began?” Claire asked.

  Steph had called her and they were on speaker phone.

  “That’s not the point.” Steph was doing the talking.

  “We didn’t call you to be reprimanded,” Juliette blurted out. “We need your help.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as traffic allows,” Claire said matter-of-factly.

  “Thanks,” Steph said and hung up.

  “Did we screw this up?” Juliette asked.

  “This was unforeseeable,” Steph said.

  “Then why do I have the feeling that Claire would have seen it coming from miles away?”

  “Let’s not forget that Claire’s the one who screwed us,” Steph said with surprising venom in her voice. “She was supposed to be our ally. If she hadn’t done what she did, she would have worked on this campaign and seen it coming, but she didn’t, so…”

  “How are you holding up, Steph?”

  “Leaking the wedding date was my idea and it looks like it’s going to come back and bite us squarely in the ass.” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “This is my wedding we’re talking about and now… I may have to explain to people what Le Noir is.”

  Juliette walked over to her friend. “We won’t let it come to that.” She curved her arm around Steph’s waist.

  “And to think Dominique was seriously considering not running again. Now she has to deal with all this.”

  “She doesn’t have to deal with it on her own. Whatever her opponent throws at her next, we’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt her too badly. We’ll protect her. That’s what we’re here for.” Juliette had to admit that they could have done a better job so far.

  Aurore

  Aurore had switched off her mobile hours ago. So much for a relaxing Saturday—although it was never going to be a relaxing weekend for her, what with the big debate coming up.

  When her landline rang—a relic from the past for which Solange had mocked her endlessly—she knew it could only be one person. About time.

  “I’m so sorry this is happening,” Solange started immediately.

  “You didn’t do this.” Although you could have called me a bit earlier, Aurore thought. “Rivière did.” So much for friendship beyond party lines.

  “Her campaign leader has a bone to pick with Barbier & Cyr.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Solange. The only point is that this should never have happened. I don’t understand how Anne could have given her blessing for this.”

  “Can you come to the Elysée? I’ll send a car to the back alley. We need to strategize.”

  Aurore huffed out some air. “I suppose I have no choice, but… just know one thing. I’m not going to apologise. Not to anyone.”

  “No one needs an apology from you, babe. You’re the one who’s entitled to an apology.”

  “I’ll see you in a bit.” Aurore hung up. She stared at her antiquated phone. Her friendship with Rivière went so far back, that when they’d first exchanged numbers, she still had given Anne her landline. It would be foolish to expect a call from her old friend now.

  As she got ready, she made a mental note to terminate her membership of the Socialist Party as soon as possible.

  She managed to get to the car Solange had sent without being spotted. As they turned onto the main road at the front of her building, the mob of photographers shocked her. Her neighbours would be pissed, but at least her producer would be happy. The ratings of her next show would skyrocket.

  Aurore was surprised to spot Claire at the Elysée. But she barely had time to recover from seeing Claire before Dominique walked up to her and put her hand gently on her arm. “You should not be collateral damage of my campaign. No one should be. For that, I apologise,” Dominique said.

  Aurore waved her off. They were all people with a past. So was Rivière—and so was the person who had convinced her to tweet that video.

  It had swiftly been removed from Twitter—a link to that kind of nudity violated its terms and conditions—but it was out there now. Once something like that was let loose on social media, there was no stopping it.

  “Please, sit,” Dominique said.

  They joined the others around the table. Claire sat at the corner and the chairs next to her were left empty. Aurore had always prided herself on being able to read a room well, and she figured that not all the kinks had been ironed out yet in the various friendships between these women.

  Solange took one of the empty chairs next to Claire. Aurore sat next to Solange. Dominique positioned herself at the other end of the table, presiding over it.

  “What are our options?” the president asked.

  Her question was followed by a brief—and alarming—silence.

  Aurore didn’t consider herself a victim of this. Her entire career was built on the fr
ee expression of sexuality. Over the course of it, she had sacrificed her privacy for the sake of that particular freedom more than once. It was who she was and what she stood for. It was also why, back in the day, listeners had flocked to her for-that-time candid radio show.

  The overriding emotion coursing through her was betrayal. If this was Anne’s idea of payback for Aurore leaving her campaign, their friendship must have been based on false assumptions all this time. Although Aurore refused to believe that. Anne must have panicked. She was so close now. Someone very conniving had talked her into doing this. Before she’d severed ties with the campaign, Aurore had become acquainted with the shark-like qualities of her new campaign manager, Sybille Gomez.

  Claire was the first one to speak. “If they’re slinging mud, so can we.”

  “No. Under no circumstances will we stoop to their level,” Dominique said.

  “We can hardly be holier-than-thou about it,” Steph said. “Yes, they leaked the video, that’s obvious, but the nature of it doesn’t really allow us to.”

  “If I may say something.” Aurore let her gaze glide across everyone in the room. “Since I play a starring role in this motion picture masterpiece we’re discussing.” She attempted a smile. Someone had to inject a little humour into this room, before they all died of taking themselves too seriously.

  “Of course.” Dominique smiled back at her, but it was more tense than encouraging.

  “A few years ago, when Solange dug up this video”—Aurore could hear Solange shuffle in her seat—“I sat across from Anne Rivière and she looked me in the eye and demanded that it would never harm her or the Socialists in any way. She wasn’t judgemental about it in the least. She simply asked me to get a guarantee from the Elysée that it wouldn’t be used against her. Which I did.” She paused to think. “Now, it seems as though Anne has completely turned the tables on us.”

  “Could it be revenge on you personally?” Juliette asked. “Because you chose to be with Solange rather than remain her advisor.”

 

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