Season Five: French Kissing, Book 5

by Harper Bliss

  Aurore shook her head. “I’ve known Anne a long time and I can’t wrap my head around it.”

  “Would you consider talking to her?” Claire asked.

  “You can’t expect that from Aurore,” Solange butted in.

  “It’s a question, not an expectation,” Claire said.

  “I will talk to her,” Aurore said. “I need to know why she has betrayed me like this.”

  “That’s easy enough,” Juliette said. “She wants to become president.”

  “But at what cost?” Aurore looked at her.

  “Good question,” Dominique said. “What is this costing her?”

  “Put yourself in her shoes,” Aurore turned to Dominique. “I could very easily still have been working for Rivière. You and Solange already knew about the video. Would you have used it against her?”

  “Never,” Dominique said forcefully.

  “The Anne I know—or used to know—would have said the exact same thing, with the same conviction.”

  “She might have scored one percent higher in the first round,” Solange said, “but she knows damn well that we’ll recuperate a lot of ANF votes in the second round. This video is exactly the kind of thing that could swing an ANF voter in her direction.”

  “We can speculate all we want”—Aurore leaned back in her chair—“but we’ll never know until I ask her woman-to-woman.”

  “Will she even talk to you?” Dominique asked.

  “We’ll see.”

  “There’s another possible issue,” Steph said.

  “The Le Matin article about you that was never published,” Claire said. “Why don’t you leave that with me and Jules. We made it go away before, we can make sure that it doesn’t reappear.”

  “The debate’s in twenty-four hours,” Dominique said. “The way things stand now, I’m considering cancelling because I refuse to debate someone who employs below-the-belt tactics such as leaking compromising videos of my friends.”

  “That’s not an option,” Solange said. “This is exactly when you have to stand up to her.”

  “Then we have our work cut out for us,” Juliette said. “What are we doing about the press? Do we make a statement?”

  “No. We don’t dignify something like that with a response,” Solange said.

  “Look,” Aurore said. “I realise why this is a big deal at this moment in time, but in the end, it’s just a video of two women having sex. I happen to be one of them and I appreciate how that reflects badly on the president, but it’s just sex.” Aurore scoffed. “I’m not committing a criminal offence or hurting anyone. And I’m most certainly not ashamed of it. Nor will I allow anyone to try to talk me into feeling any kind of shame about it.”

  “If only the majority of the voters looked at it like that,” Claire said. “But I can assure you that they don’t.”

  “Let’s get to work,” Dominique said. “And regroup tonight for an update.”

  Claire

  “I’m glad you called,” Claire said.

  “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.” Juliette fidgeted with her hands.

  “Margot really appreciated you coming to dinner.” Claire wasn’t ready to give up yet. They were on a mission together. And they had no time to waste.

  “What do you know about Rivière?” Juliette ignored what Claire had just said.

  “She’s willing to do anything to become president,” Claire said.

  “You were going to approach her on our behalf, you must have done some research.”

  “You work for Dominique’s campaign. You know much more about her than I do,” Claire said.

  “You didn’t come across anything that we might have missed?” Juliette paced the room they’d been shown into at the Elysée to discuss their strategy.

  “Jules, I realise this might be hard for you, but we need to focus on Sybille.”

  Juliette huffed out some air. “I thought this was all in the past. I won’t say Sybille and I parted on good terms, but she did come to us last time. She approached us about the article on Steph and with what she knew.”

  “Things change and one thing we have always known about Sybille is that she burns with ambition. She’s twenty years younger than us yet she’s the campaign leader for a presidential candidate—a candidate who might very well dethrone the sitting president. I’ve always seen that in her.”

  “Do you think this is what she wants? Us coming to her, begging her not to use what she learned about Steph five years ago?”

  “Maybe.” Claire glanced at Juliette. This was the only way their friendship could be put back on track. The two of them working towards a common goal. “Either way, we’re going to have to contact her. We need to look her in the eye, Jules. She may be smart, but we’re no dummies either. I, for one, refuse to let her get the best of us. This is personal now.”

  “Back in the MLR camp, are we?” Juliette said, with a grin on her face.

  “And back in yours, I hope.”

  Juliette responded by taking hold of her phone. “I suppose I’d better call her.”

  “How about I call her. Let’s not give her any more than we have to.” She held out her hand. “If she still has your number in her phone, the first step towards the destabilisation of Sybille will be hearing my voice on the other end of the line instead of yours.” She tried a smile again.

  Juliette handed her the phone, her face taut with tension.

  Claire made the call.

  “What is this place?” Juliette glanced around. “Are you sure we’re in the right spot?”

  Sybille had given them an address all the way across town in the Bercy area. The building looked brand new.

  “Maybe this is where the Socialists hold all their secret rendezvous,” Claire said while she double-checked the address.

  “This is not where Solange met Sybille,” Juliette said.

  Claire rang the bell. A split second later the intercom buzzed. She glanced up before pushing the door open and noticed a security camera pointed right at them. Sybille had been waiting—and watching.

  Inside, the building looked like a brand new apartment complex. As instructed on the phone earlier, they rode the elevator to the top floor.

  There were only two doors on the top floor and they had no trouble finding their final destination.

  Claire knocked on the door.

  “It’s open.” Even though she hadn’t heard it in years, Claire still recognised Sybille’s voice.

  When they entered, Sybille was standing with her back to them, staring at the magnificent view over Paris.

  “New digs?” Claire asked. “You’ve certainly gone up in the world.”

  “Not difficult when you start at the bottom.” Sybille turned around. She looked as though she hadn’t aged a day. Her long black hair cascaded onto her shoulders. She was dressed in a perfectly tailored grey trouser suit, with three-inch red stilettos on her feet.

  Claire took a step closer. For a split second, her gaze was drawn to the truly magnificent view. But she regrouped quickly. She had to lead in this situation. She wanted to do that for Juliette.

  “Don’t you have to prep your candidate for tomorrow’s debate?” Claire asked.

  “Anne’s ready.” Sybille smirked. “You’ll see.”

  “How did you do it?” Juliette asked, her voice high in pitch. “How did you get someone as respectable as Anne Rivière to agree to leak that video?”

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about… Jules.” Sybille locked her gaze on Juliette’s. “Someone I’ve never heard of tweeted it. I had nothing to do with that.”

  “Drop the act. You told Solange to her face.”

  “Ah yes, Solange… Aurore Seauve’s girlfriend. Who’d ever have thought that the most uptight woman in the Elysée would date a porn star?” She tutted. “Standards truly have dropped in the MLR camp since I left.”

  Claire took the opportunity to cast her gaze about the apartment. It was decorated, but it didn’t feel
lived in. All the frames on the walls contained only generic stock photos. Sybille had perhaps been a bit busy plotting the demise of Dominique Laroche to decorate her new place.

  “You were never in the MLR camp,” Juliette said.

  “I wanted to be,” Sybille said. “But then I got fired.”

  “Excuse me,” Claire said. “We might have had to let you go, but we found you a place at a top-notch agency. We hardly put you out with the trash.” Which, in hindsight, is what they should have done. All the small decisions they had made over the past five years had led them to this. To standing in this place—Claire wasn’t sure what it was yet—face-to-face with Sybille.

  “We had to do something after the president’s wedding date was ‘leaked’.” Sybille curled her fingers into air quotes.

  “The video’s not why we’re here.” Claire kept her gaze firmly on Sybille again. “We want to make a deal.”

  “Really? What sort of deal?” Sybille’s face was the very picture of glee.

  “We want assurances that nothing else like that video will come out of the woodwork.”

  “I can’t make that kind of promise. Surely you understand that.”

  “What do you really want, Sybille?” Juliette asked. “Is it an apology you’re after?”

  “Good heavens, no. What would you even have to apologise for, Jules? I’d have thought it was more Nadia you needed to apologise to.” She examined Juliette’s left hand. “It does look like she has forgiven you for your little dalliance with me.” She painted on an evil grin.

  “Is this really necessary?” Claire tried to keep her voice level.

  “I just want the same thing you want. For my candidate to win. That’s all,” Sybille said. “Will it feel even more satisfying when Anne beats not only Dominique Laroche and I beat Barbier & Cyr in the process? Oh yes, it most definitely will.” She shrugged. “May the best team win.”

  “You’re hardly playing fair,” Claire said.

  “Fair?” Sybille drew up her eyebrows as though she was genuinely surprised by what Claire had just said. “What does fair have to do with winning a presidential election? This is not your first rodeo, ladies. You know how it works.”

  “Five years ago, you came to us with a story Le Matin was going to publish about Steph if Dominique had to go head-to-head with the Socialists in the final round,” Juliette said.

  “Five years ago, I wasn’t working for the Socialist campaign. Five years ago, we didn’t have an amazing, awe-inspiring candidate like Anne Rivière. I have to go all out for her—do all that I possibly can.”

  Claire noticed how something changed in Sybille’s voice when she spoke of Anne Rivière. This wasn’t just about winning. She genuinely respected her candidate.

  “How ‘amazing’ and ‘awe-inspiring’ can she be as a candidate when she allows her own campaign manager to play the dirty tricks you’ve been up to?” Claire studied Sybille’s face.

  “I can be very persuasive if I have to.” Sybille paused and fixed her gaze on Juliette. “Jules knows exactly how persuasive.”

  Bloody hell. Claire could see it now. It was plastered all across Sybille’s face.

  “I’ve heard enough,” Claire said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “But we haven’t—” Juliette protested.

  “We know enough. Trust me,” Claire whispered.

  “Leaving already?” Sybille said. “I was having so much fun.”

  “Trust you,” Juliette said, her voice rich with indignation. “That’s a good one.” They stepped into the elevator. “Sybille hasn’t given us any guarantees yet.”

  “Sybille’s never going to give us any guarantees, Jules. One look at her and I knew that much. She’s a woman who will stop at nothing. Besides…” The more she thought about it, the more certain Claire was that her hunch was correct. “We have something on Rivière now—and Rivière’s still Sybille’s boss. I’d like to think she’s still the one calling the shots.”

  “I don’t understand. We don’t have any more information about Rivière than before we came.”

  “Oh, we do.” Claire understood why Jules wouldn’t have been able to deduce it from Sybille’s behaviour. Perhaps she’d even been a little spellbound by her former lover. But Claire could see it very clearly. “We need to talk to Dominique and Aurore as soon as possible.”

  Aurore

  Aurore waited outside Anne’s office at the Socialist headquarters—a place she knew well. She’d gotten a few looks from people in the hallways, but Aurore had braved glances like that her entire life. If anything, they’d only ever spurred her on.

  She considered the information Claire believed she had gleaned from her meeting with Sybille. It could certainly explain why Anne had allowed the video to leak—now it was up to Aurore to make sure.

  Anne opened the door herself and quickly ushered Aurore in. No hugs or kisses were exchanged. At least Anne was alone in her office—she owed her old friend an audience without any campaign cronies listening in.

  “Please, sit,” Anne said, and led Aurore towards two armchairs by the window.

  After she’d sat, she glanced briefly at Aurore and expelled a deep sigh. “This campaign may have gotten away from me a bit.”

  Aurore didn’t say anything. She hadn’t come to absolve Anne of any guilt. She had come to find out why on earth she had stooped so low. It was best to just let her speak.

  “I never expected to be ahead after the first round,” Anne said. “For a few minutes, it felt so intoxicating. Although I soon realised that the hardest part was yet to come.” She glanced out of the window. “How about a stiff drink?”

  Aurore nodded.

  Anne got up and, without asking, poured them both a good measure of whiskey. When she handed Aurore the glass she held her gaze for a second.

  “I’ll do you the courtesy of not apologising.”

  “I haven’t come for an apology—nor would it change anything.” Aurore accepted the drink and took a sip.

  “The pressure of all of this is just… immense. The hope, the emotion, the taste of victory that is so, so close. But also the desire to not let my supporters down. To finish what we started after Goffin left the party in such a mess. It all falls on my shoulders.”

  “You have your team.” Aurore ran her finger over the rim of the whiskey glass.

  “Minus you.”

  “True, but you know why I had to leave.”

  “Ah yes, for love.” Anne snickered.

  “Funny old thing that… Love.”

  “Tell me about it.” Anne downed a good gulp of whiskey.

  “How’s Edouard dealing with all of this… pressure?” Aurore knew Anne’s husband well.

  “You know he’s always had my back and he believes very strongly in what I’m trying to do.”

  “At any cost?”

  “Clearly, I didn’t consult him before I gave the okay to leak that video.” Anne’s voice broke. “We’re not really on speaking terms because of it, but he’ll come around. He always does.”

  “I truly don’t care that the entire nation has seen me in all my naked glory, but I do fail to understand your reasoning behind it. I thought we were friends, Anne. I know I left the campaign, but I thought I had left on good terms. I believed we were good.” Aurore shook her head. “Tell me honestly, did you come up with the idea yourself? Because you’ve always known the video was out there. Did you concoct this evil plan yourself or did you have a little help?”

  “It wasn’t my idea, but…”

  Aurore had to bite her tongue to keep from finishing Anne’s sentence.

  “I may have mentioned the video’s existence to Sybille.”

  “Why?” Aurore’s voice shot up. “Under what possible circumstance would you even speak of that?”

  “Sybille’s my campaign manager. The past few months, we’ve spent the majority of our time together. Things get said. That video was one of those things.”

  “A few years ago, you
asked me—in this very office—to promise that this video wouldn’t hurt your political career. Now you’re using it to undermine Dominique. That’s not you, Anne. What happened?”

  “What happened? This campaign happened. You have no idea what it’s like—”

  Aurore had a pretty good idea what it was like.

  “Laroche didn’t have to make her wedding date public one day before the debate—that was a choice her campaign made.”

  “You thought you’d repay her in kind by leaking my video?” Aurore asked. “It’s hardly a proportional response.”

  “I’m so sick of the MLR pandering to the left. So what if the president’s engaged to a woman? For an MLR politician, it should lose her votes, not make her gain them.”

  “Anne…” Aurore looked her friend in the eye. “What the hell happened to you? Those are not your words. You’re not one to fight someone on something like that. There used to be a time that this would have been so beneath you. The thought wouldn’t even have entered your mind.”

  “That was before I decided to become president.”

  “I don’t buy that. You can’t have suddenly changed that much because you want to be in power.”

  “Lots of things have changed since you left, Aurore.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Who’s to say—” Anne stopped speaking abruptly.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Anne said quickly.

  Aurore emptied her glass—the liquor stinging in the back of her throat—and put it on the table with a forceful bang. “What kind of hold does your campaign manager have over you exactly?”

  Anne chuckled, then nodded slowly. “Quite a gripping one, I would say.”

  “That’s obvious.”

  “Look, Sybille, she’s… she’s making this happen for me. More than that, she’s always there with the next idea. She’s so resourceful and so smart and…”

  “Please don’t embarrass yourself by telling me you’re in love with her.” There. Aurore had said it.

  Anne scoffed. “Maybe you should go now.”

  “How about before I go, you tell me to my face that the reason you sold out one of your oldest friends is because you have the hots for your campaign manager?”