French Kissing- Season Four

by Harper Bliss

  Steph mock-sighed, then smiled and grabbed Dominique’s hand. “You’re just going to wear me out asking again and again. I’m just going to end up marrying you out of pure exhaustion. Is that truly the unromantic kind of wedding you want?”

  Dominique reciprocated Steph’s smile and was reminded of why she had fallen for her. Not for the dreamy look in her bright blue eyes or for the smooth, youthfulness of her skin but for the unshakable confidence that allowed her to always say exactly what she thought.

  “Morning,” Solange was unable to look Dominique in the eye. “I made some notes last night for the budget proposal. You’ll find them on your desk.”

  Dominique glanced at the clock. She had a minute to quiz her chief of staff. “When did you get here this morning?”

  “My usual time,” Solange said.

  “Which is?”

  “Six thirty.”

  “And when you arrived home last night you decided to make some notes on the budget?”

  “I wanted to go over it again, make sure everything is correct before you go into the meeting. They’re just small comments on a few minor points.”

  “Then why even bother?” Dominique gestured at the chair across from her desk. “It’s not your job to occupy yourself with minor points, Solange. Sit for a minute.”

  When Dominique said it like that, Solange couldn’t refuse, even though it was written all over her face that she wanted to.

  “This term is far from over and I want to run again. I need you by my side, Solange. I appreciate the hours you put in, but you have to rest. Everyone does—me included. How many hours did you sleep last night?”

  Solange’s posture stiffened and she swung one rigid leg over the other. “Five or six. I don’t need more.”

  Dominique let a short silence fall, waiting to see if Solange would say anything about storming out last night. She didn’t.

  “Are you all right?” If Solange wasn’t going to bring it up, Dominique bloody well would. “After last night?”

  Solange performed her version of a nod—a curt jut of the chin.

  Steph’s words ran through Dominique’s head. Was Solange a secret homophobe? No, she couldn’t be. If she was, how could she possibly stomach working for Dominique? Dominique also knew not to wait for an apology. Solange had apologised to her last night. She wouldn’t repeat those words. She knew that, as far as her chief of staff was concerned, the matter had been dealt with.

  “Fine. Let’s talk about the budget then.”

  Solange cleared her throat. “There is… something else. Something delicate.”

  “What is it?”

  “I dug something up on that woman. Aurore Seauve. I should have done it sooner, but I presumed Stéphanie had her vetted.” Solange uncrossed her legs. “You wouldn’t expect it of a political advisor, but then again, she’s advising the socialists and we know all about their permissive ways.”

  “Just tell me.” It wasn’t like Solange to beat around the bush like that.

  “She starred in an adult movie.” Solange paused. “Aurore Seauve is a porn actress.”

  Dominique’s jaw slacked.

  “You should urge Stéphanie to break contact with her immediately. If this comes out, and it will…” Solange paused. “It really didn’t take much digging for me to find the video online. It can only reflect badly on you.”

  Dominique shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I can send you the evidence.”

  “Did you watch it? The video?”

  “About as much as I could stomach to make sure it was really her.” Pure disgust clung to Solange’s tone.

  “You’re absolutely certain it’s Aurore in the video?”

  “A hundred percent.”

  “Send the link to my private account.” If this was true, and she trusted Solange to have done her homework on this, Dominique had to show Steph.

  “I will,” Solange said, her tone a lot lighter than before.

  Steph

  “I’m so sorry about last night,” Steph said into the phone. “I wish things could have been more… civilised.”

  “Don’t worry about it. They were interesting, at least. What more could I wish for?”

  “Politeness from the chief of staff perhaps,” Steph said, unable to keep irritation out of her voice.

  “How did Dominique react?”

  Steph scoffed. “She wants me to apologise to Solange. Apparently, I provoked her.”

  “Well…” Aurore wasn’t one to mince her words.

  “Do you think I provoked her as well?”

  “I think you know that you did. I don’t think that particular bit of knowledge is the issue at all.”

  “Were you not offended by what Solange said?”

  “Offended? God no.” Aurore scoffed. “I’ve been called much worse than a lesbian. I am, in fact, a lesbian.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Look, Steph, we haven’t known each other for that long so I have to ask. Do you want to hear what I really think? Or do you want me to pander to you?”

  “Of course I want to hear what you really think.” Even though Steph was able to inject conviction in her tone, her stomach tightened at the prospect.

  “Yes, Solange is uptight. She probably needs a shag. And a semblance of a private life. She has that written all over her. But she wants what’s best for the president. So do you. From what I witnessed, there’s some serious rivalry going on between you. It happens, especially in the upper echelons of politics. The sad thing is that by being the way you are with each other, you’re not giving Dominique your best at all. Neither one of you is.”

  “Oh Christ, not you as well.” Steph didn’t care that she had her hackles up.

  “You’re a reasonable person. I might not know you that well—yet—but I know that much.”

  “Are you suggesting I apologise to Solange as well?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt anyone if you did. On the contrary.”

  “So I really am the only one offended by her harsh words? Or did I hear something else than you and Dominique? She did literally say she didn’t appreciate you being there. And that there are too many lesbians in the Elysée.”

  “Indeed, she did say these things, but anyone willing could see that the woman was feeling threatened. I’m sure, in the cold hard light of day, she regrets everything she said.”

  “It’s all down to me then.” Steph was beginning to have doubts. She had expected Dominique to stand by her chief of staff, but she had surely expected Aurore to be on her side.

  “I’m not one to cast blame, Steph. It’s not something I believe in. If you don’t want to apologise, then don’t. Because it won’t solve anything if you don’t mean it. But, if I may be so bold as to suggest such a thing, you should consider ways of getting along with her better. She’s there and you’re there. Perhaps you’re feeling a little threatened yourself?”

  “Threatened? By that sexless, emotionless creature? Give me a break. I think I’m the only one who sees her for who she really is. Dominique relies on her for her job, but you? How could she possibly have swayed you, Aurore? I don’t understand.”

  “You won’t understand until you decide to give her a break.”

  “A break? You know what I should give her instead? A date with a top-notch gigolo. You just said it yourself. That’s what Solange Garceau needs most of all.”

  Aurore’s hearty chuckle beamed through the receiver. “Those are your words entirely, not mine.”

  “I won’t quote you on them.”

  “Listen, Steph. Call me any time. I’m here if you need to talk. Just don’t invite me to the Elysée for a while.”

  “Deal,” Steph said.

  After they rang off, she sat thinking about her conversation with Aurore for long minutes. Was she really being so unreasonable? When she couldn’t see things clearly and needed an outside opinion, there was only one person she could talk to.

  S
he opened a new internet browser window on her computer and surfed to the private chat window where she could reach Marion, her counsellor.

  After speaking with Marion, Steph decided to give Solange one chance. But if the woman so much as gave her a fake smile or a sneering comment, she could stuff her apology where the sun didn’t shine.

  She nodded at Madame Moreau, who had acquired the habit of letting Steph go where she pleased and only stopped her from penetrating the heart of the Elysée when Dominique was in a meeting in her office. But Steph wasn’t there to see Dominique. She had come to see Solange. She rapped on the door and waited.

  “Oui.” The same sharp tone as usual.

  Steph swung the door wide and decided to remain as close to it as possible, in case she needed to escape quickly. She and Solange didn’t often find themselves in a room just the two of them. Standing in the doorframe was already uncomfortable enough.

  “Stéphanie,” Solange said. “What can I do for you?” Was that a hint of a smile on her face?

  “I came to say I’m sorry about last night. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to invite Aurore. It was poor judgement on my part. I apologise.”

  “Apology appreciated and accepted.” Solange sat there smiling like a sphinx.

  Steph didn’t have anything else to say to Solange. Solange wasn’t the most adept at small talk and Steph simply didn’t have it in her to talk about meaningless things with the woman.

  “Great. Thanks. I’ll leave you to it.” Steph waited a few more seconds, just to see if Solange would give her an apology in return—something that was definitely warranted from Steph’s point of view—but none came.

  She closed the door behind her and went upstairs, deciding what to do with her evening. She didn’t feel like curling up on the sofa with Pierrot. She hadn’t seen Nadia for too long. She pulled her phone from her pocket and out of habit, before dialling her friend’s number, checked Dominique’s calendar, which was updated several times throughout the day.

  In the beginning, Steph had made the mistake of not checking the calendar for last minute changes to Dominique’s schedule, not realising that it changed so often, and she’d had to cancel previously made plans to spend some precious time with her partner. She didn’t make that mistake any more.

  She clicked on the app icon and noticed the change immediately: Dinner with Stéphanie, it said, where earlier this afternoon some meeting had been scheduled. Steph held off from calling Nadia and hurried up the stairs.

  “You’ll be happy to know I apologised to Solange,” Steph said before kissing Dominique on the lips. “Is this unexpected dinner my reward?”

  Dominique shook her head. “I didn’t even know you’d apologised, babe.” She curled her arms around Steph’s waist and drew her close. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

  “So this is business, not pleasure?” Steph cooed into Dominique’s ear.

  “It really depends how you look at it.” Dominique kissed her again then withdrew and reached for her iPad on the table. “I need to show you something.”

  “Okay.” Steph sat down and looked around for a bottle of wine. Dominique had a glass of sparkling water in front of her, which meant she had to go back to work later. There was no sign of food being prepared. Steph wasn’t very hungry. She was just happy to get an hour of stolen time with Dominique.

  The sound on the iPad was muted when Dominique showed Steph the screen, but what the naked women in the video were doing could not be muted in any way.

  “What am I looking at?” Steph glanced at Dominique. “Is this a new kind of foreplay?”

  “Look at the woman on top. Look at her face,” Dominique said.

  “Er, okay.” Steph leaned closer and examined the video. She couldn’t really make out the actress’s face because it was mostly hidden by the other woman’s thighs. She had long dark hair, that was about all Steph could make out. Then the woman took a break from what she was doing and looked straight into the camera. “Oh,” Steph said. “That looks very much like a young Aurore.”

  “That’s because it is a young Aurore.”

  “Oh my.” Steph glanced up at Dominique. “Is this a new habit? Looking at online videos of dinner guests having sex?”

  Dominique pulled back a chair and sat down brusquely. “Don’t play dumb, Stéphanie. This woman was here, at the Elysée. Twice.”

  “This is not a secret. Aurore talks about her past in porn regularly on her show.”

  “Do you mean to say you knew about this video?”

  Steph shrugged. “I was aware of it. I’d never seen it. This is from twenty years ago. How did you get this anyway?” Solange’s earlier smile suddenly made sense. “Oh for goodness’ sake. Bloody Solange. That’s why she was grinning like a madwoman earlier.” Steph blew some air through her nostrils. “I can’t believe this.”

  “This is not good. This woman was in our home.”

  Steph took a deep breath. She didn’t want to fly off the handle. She could see Dominique’s point of view, but that didn’t make her less enraged by the memory of Solange’s treacherous smile.

  “If you’d known about this, she wouldn’t have been allowed inside the hallowed Elysée?”

  “Damn right she wouldn’t have. What if it comes out that we had a porn star over for dinner?”

  “Aurore is not a porn star. She advises Rivière. She knows what she’s talking about. She does this country a big service every time she goes on air.”

  “You should have done your homework on her before inviting her here. This leaves me very vulnerable.”

  “Vulnerable to what?” Steph sank back into her chair. “I’m so sick of being scolded. Only last night, Solange managed to put me down in front of you. Now I have you on my case, again. For not being careful enough, for not asking the secret service whether I can befriend someone I really like. Someone, I might add, who has the power to help you politically. And it all comes down to one person who hates my guts: Solange Garceau.” Steph stood. “I’m sick of it, Dominique. So bloody sick of the whole thing. Only fifteen minutes ago, I stood in her office, apologising to her.” Steph walked behind the chair and wrapped her fingers around the back rest, her knuckles going white. “You can eat your dinner and watch the rest of that video alone. Or no, even better, ask Solange to keep you company. I get the feeling you’d much prefer that to me being here anyway.” She shoved the chair away from her. “I’m going out.”

  So much for not flying off the handle. Steph thundered down the stairs. But she’d had enough of conservative right-wing medieval politics. It was the opposite of who she was. Aurore’s political views were much closer to hers than Dominique’s. Steph had had enough of betraying what she truly believed in.

  When she reached the underground car park, she was immediately approached by someone from security. A guy she was friendly with called Albert. It brought her back to reality. Steph couldn’t just take a car and drive off into the night. She had a protocol to observe. She had to at least be followed—discreetly, but still followed. She couldn’t go to a bar like L’Univers and shoot the breeze with the bartender anymore. She certainly couldn’t go to Le Noir and lose herself completely—not that she wanted that, but back in the day, it was always nice to at least have the option.

  This life of toeing the line, of always having to think of Dominique first, was what she had chosen—for love—but right at that moment, as she thought about which destination to give Albert, she wished she’d made a different choice.

  Camille

  Camille hung up her blazer and put her purse on the chair next to her desk. She switched on her computer, looked around her office as the computer booted up, when her glance fell on a sheet of paper that hadn’t been there when she left the previous evening.

  It was just a blank piece of paper. Maybe the cleaner who came in early had left it there by accident. If it hadn’t been used, Camille would recycle it and add it to the stack in her printer.

 
; She picked it up and turned it around to examine its blankness, but it turned out to be used already after all. In slim, large letters the word DYKE was written on it, taking up most of the A4 space.

  Camille fought the urge to crumple it up and toss it in the trash immediately. She dug her phone out of her purse and took a picture, then added it to the folder collecting evidence of harassment she had started on Zoya’s advice.

  Her hands might be methodical and swift while she secured the evidence, but her mind was in disarray. This was not Duflot’s handiwork. He was more subtle. He wouldn’t leave a piece of paper like that for anyone to find. Bernice, Camille’s assistant, came into her office all the time while Camille wasn’t there. Members of her team deposited reports for approval in her In tray. Granted, the sheet had been face down, but this was not Duflot’s MO. No, this meant someone else at the Institut had been swayed against her. Someone who was appalled enough by her coming out to risk such a bold, despicable act.

  Camille leaned back in her chair and tried to grasp where such hatred would come from. The Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique was a scientific institute. Most of the people employed here were trained scientists, educated people whose belief systems were not influenced by religion or other non-scientific doctrines—or so Camille had believed.

  She eyed the folder which had thickened at an alarming rate, because she wrote everything down—every last little thing. She had grown so paranoid that she even took note when someone gave her a funny look in the hallway. This had been going on long enough now and she no longer knew who to trust.

  She heaved a sigh at the unpleasantness she had to start the day with. It was all so unnecessary. There was already so much hatred in the world. It baffled her that her being with a woman could contribute to it. It made her despair of people. But it also made her combative. Not that Camille hadn’t considered throwing in the towel. Granted, she was a bit young to retire, but she could afford to. Or she could look for another job. But that would mean admitting defeat to her bullies and Camille refused to ever do that. She could not let the likes of Duflot win. Because he might just be after her job, using any means necessary to discredit and destabilise Camille, but his minions thrived on pure hatred. Camille could not let hatred get the better of her. If they wanted a fight, she would give them one.