The new season of French Kissing will be out on 18 June 2019! I’m so excited. I have an extra-long preview for you. Enjoy!
French Kissing: Season Five
© Harper Bliss
“Are you sure you shouldn’t be working for Séverine Marechal instead of Dominique Laroche?” Aurore regretted the words the instant they’d passed her lips.
Solange just rolled her eyes, emitted a small sigh, and retreated into silence. Always that silence. More than anything else, it drove Aurore to insanity.
“Will you please say something?” Aurore had tried beating Solange at her own silence game, but she didn’t have the patience for it. Because the woman got under her skin too much. At least once a day, Aurore wondered how it was possible for her to be so attracted to someone with such ridiculous political views.
“What do you want me to say?” Solange shrugged. “Whatever I say next will just propel us into another fight.” She narrowed her eyes to slits. “But just for the record, I would never for a second consider working for someone like Séverine Marechal or any far-right candidate. I don’t believe in anything she stands for.” She looked up. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while. I figured you’d know that by now.”
“I’m not so sure of that. The MLR and the ANF have different strategies to get elected, but you do want some of the same things.” Aurore couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t care that, once again, she’d be accused—in Solange’s usual clipped tone—of being a bleeding heart socialist who wanted nothing more than to pamper the less fortunate.
Solange leaned back against the sofa. Her white blouse was crumpled. Aurore had bought her some more colourful blouses, but Solange never wore them. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “I’m honestly too tired to do this with you tonight.”
“That makes two of us,” Aurore said.
Solange looked her in the eye briefly, then cast her gaze to the stack of papers on the coffee table. To the tax reform memo she’d been reading.
“Maybe I’ll just go,’ Solange said.”
“It’s late.” Aurore tried to ignore the stab of guilt in her gut.
“Yes, I know it’s late, but I’d rather make my way across town at this hour than sit here with you and be accused of being a closet fascist.” She shook her head. “Yes, we want to push through this tax reform before the end of Dominque’s term, but I truly don’t see how that makes me fit to work for someone like Marechal.” Solange put the memo in a folder.
Aurore bit back the reply she had at the ready.
Solange pushed herself out of the sofa. She looked tired, worn out even. “When I come here, I want to relax. Not have the same old argument every time.”
“Relax?” Aurore nodded at the folder Solange had in her hand. “How can you relax when you’re working on more tax cuts for the rich? On my sofa. At eleven o’clock in the evening.”
Solange held up a hand. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore. Any of it. Elections are coming. I’m only going to get busier and… frankly, I could do without your socialist distractions.”
“My socialist distractions? Is that all I am to you now? A socialist?”
“Tonight, you clearly are.” Solange straightened her spine. “Do you enjoy our endless fights? Because I’m sick of them. I’d rather be alone than fight with you every other day.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” Again. Aurore tried to keep her voice steady.
“What’s there even left to break up from? We’re hardly couple of the year.” Solange grabbed her bag from the sofa and stuffed the folder inside.
“I take it back.” Aurore stepped closer to her. “What I said about Marechal was a heat of the moment thing. Surely, you know that. Please, stay.” Aurore had been here before too many times. Every single time had felt like the last time—like Solange would disappear from her life forever. It was a thought she couldn’t bear.
“It’s not working.” Solange’s voice shot up, which indicated she meant business. “Can’t you see that?” She shook her head again. “You’re supposed to be the expert in relationships and emotions and communication and all the other things I suck at. So you tell me. Do you really think this is worth putting any more energy into? Because I can use my energy for much more valuable things.”
“In that case, I think my opinion hardly still matters.” Aurore’s voice cracked.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you truly believe we are worth fighting for.” Solange took a step closer. She stood so close that Aurore could feel her breath. This was a new move. Was it the first hint at the make-up sex they’d be having or was Solange truly being serious?
In the end, it didn’t matter. Because Aurore was tired too. Tired of the endless arguments, tired of never feeling totally at ease. Solange was so different from her, it often annoyed her more than it aroused her.
But Aurore couldn’t just say that out loud. She couldn’t just admit defeat like that. She couldn’t lie either. “I respect you as a person, but I don’t respect your political opinions. I just can’t.”
“Well, there we go then.” It came out as a whimper. “I knew I could count on your honesty, which is something I truly respect.” Solange was regaining confidence, or maybe it was the sarcasm that made it sound that way.
Aurore reached out her arm and put her hand on Solange’s hip. “Let’s not do this.” It was hardly an adequate argument—and she knew it wasn’t enough to persuade someone like Solange to stay.
“I agree. Let’s not.” Solange stepped to the side so Aurore’s hand slid off her hip. “Let’s end it here and now.” She swiftly made her way into the hallway. Aurore followed on her heels.
Solange snatched her coat from a hanger. She turned around. “It’s not that I don’t love you, but sometimes love isn’t enough.”
Her words were like a dagger through Aurore’s heart—because she knew that what Solange had just said couldn’t possibly be more true. They were in love, but it wasn’t enough.
With that, Solange slipped into her coat and out the door.
Aurore watched the front door for a good while longer. It wasn’t the first time Solange had disappeared through it—Aurore had lost count of how many times they’d ended things between them during the time they’d been seeing each other. Correction: tried to see each other. This time, however, a foreboding sense of finality hung in the air. And apart from the acute sadness she always felt when things went awry between them, Aurore was a little relieved as well. Which was probably the biggest indicator that this was their final goodbye.
Solange opened the door to her office at the Elysée. She’d never get tired of walking into this grand room, reserved for the President’s Chief of Staff. Working for Dominique Laroche pleased her more than anything else. A thought she had to cling to now more than ever. A headache throbbed behind her eyes and the three cups of very strong coffee she had downed earlier weren’t helping with her fatigue. She’d barely slept a wink.
The conversation with Aurore kept playing in her mind. Could she have dealt with it differently? She had asked herself over and over. The answer was always no. At least Solange had tried. She had ventured into a relationship with the least-likely person—maybe that was the problem. Either way, personal relationships would have to be relegated to a dark, dusty corner of her life once again. Now that she no longer had Aurore to fight with, she’d start on a strategy for Dominique’s re-election campaign. The election was still a year and a half away, but it was never too early to start strategising. Solange needed the distraction.
Speak of the devil. Solange had barely sat before Dominique appeared in the doorframe.
“If you keep turning up earlier and earlier, you’ll make me look bad.” Dominique tilted her head. “Or did you sleep here? You look a bit worse for wear.”
Solange shook her head. She made a point of not discussing her personal life with the President, but she figured if she just told her and got it over with, the subject could be closed and she wouldn’t have to talk about it with her boss again.
“Please don’t make a big deal about this.” She gazed out of the window. “Aurore and I broke up. For good, this time. It’s over and it’s for the best.” There. She’d said it. She had expected some sort of relief to wash over her, but instead she was flooded with sadness.
“Oh, Solange.” Dominique walked further into her office. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“I really don’t want to talk about it and I would appreciate it if Steph didn’t stop by later to make a big song and dance about it.”
“Don’t worry about Steph.” Dominique leaned against Solange’s desk. “I’m probably foolish to ask, but do you need some personal time?”
“With all due respect, Madam President, but that is indeed very foolish.”
“I’ve been thinking about the upcoming campaign.” Solange quickly changed the subject. She knew Dominique would respect her wish to not discuss her breakup any further. Not only out of respect for Solange, but simply because she didn’t have the time to worry about her staff’s personal life. She barely had time to see her own children.
“Of course you have.”
“Shall we set up a meeting with Barbier & Cyr soon?” If it were up to Solange, they’d consult other agencies as well, but Steph still officially worked for Barbier & Cyr, so it was out of the question for Dominique to employ anyone else to handle the PR for her campaign.
“You’re certainly eager.” Dominique started pacing. “How about we focus on getting this tax reform bill through the Assemblée first?”
“I am focused on that, but how about I have a preliminary meeting with Claire and Juliette?” During the previous campaign, Solange wouldn’t even have considered calling the owners of Barbier & Cyr by their first name. But everything was different now.
“No.” Dominique squared her shoulders. “Not yet.”
“Do you want to use a different agency?” Solange asked, slightly baffled.
“No, it’s just too soon.”
“It’s really not,” Solange urged. “I can assure you that Marechal and Rivière are already consulting, and they will be your two main competitors. In fact, we should aim for a face-off with Marechal in the second round and try to eliminate Ri—”
“Solange.” Dominique held up her hand. “Stop.”
Solange quirked up her eyebrows. Dominique never raised her voice like that—not to her chief of staff.
Solange had no choice but to accept that she was not fully in charge. There would always be one more person above her.
“We’re going to have to re-crunch some numbers for this bill. Again,” Dominique said, not explaining herself further.
“I’m on it. You’ll have it on your desk in an hour, but…” Dominique might be the president, but she wouldn’t be if it weren’t for Solange. And Solange had already lost a battle last night. She needed the thrill of gearing up for re-election to take her mind off Aurore. “We’re going to have that first meeting soon.”
Dominique rubbed her forehead briefly. Solange had a hunch of what that could mean. Surely, Dominique wanted to run again? It was unthinkable that she did not. What it would mean, for Dominique, for France. For herself. Her brain couldn’t really parse the thought.
“You do want to run for another term?” Solange asked.
Dominique didn’t immediately reply. Merde. Before she could put together a battle plan for re-election, Solange had to come up with another plan. Convincing the president that not running really wasn’t an option. If she couldn’t persuade Dominique to run again, then she was pretty sure Dominique’s father would come to the rescue. She made a mental note to get in touch with him as soon as possible.
“I truly resent that it’s so automatically assumed.” Dominique huffed out some air.
Resent it all you want, Solange thought. It doesn’t make it any less so.
“Do we have to talk about this?” Solange asked.
“At some point yes, but as I said earlier, not now.” She didn’t say anything else before leaving.
This was worse than breaking up with a woman she loved. Far, far worse. Dominique simply had to run again. The thought that she might not hadn’t even been a possibility in Solange’s mind.
“If I tell you about Juliette’s latest bright idea for Barbier & Cyr, you’re going to be green with envy,” Steph said.
The mention of Barbier & Cyr made Dominique look up from the tax bill she and Solange had been reworking for the better part of the day. It made her think of the meeting Solange had wanted to set up. Dominique could have handled that better, but, as always, she hadn’t had time to think about it beforehand. She should have known Solange would start bringing up the campaign about now. She had been her campaign manager, after all. She had been instrumental in getting Dominique elected as president of the Republic.
“What’s that then?” Dominique pushed the papers away from her. The numbers were dancing in front of her eyes anyway.
“She’s been researching all these Scandinavian studies about working fewer hours per week and she wants to do a trial at Barbier & Cyr. Go from the official thirty-five hours of work per week to thirty.” Steph painted a large grin on her face.
“Marriage has really changed her,” was all Dominique could think to say. She probably worked three times thirty hours each week, if not more. She could have all the opinions about this that she wanted but as the president, and one of the hardest-working people in the country, she could never voice them. It wouldn’t be fair on anyone.
“Yeah.” Steph slung one long leg over the other. “Maybe you should try it. Who knows, it might have the same effect on you.”
“I’ve been married before.”
“Not to me, you haven’t.” Steph kept a bright smile on her face. She’d been teasing Dominique about Dominique’s lack of time to marry her for a while now.
“You know when I would have the time?” Dominique hadn’t discussed this with Steph yet. She hadn’t talked about it with anyone. It was a mere thought. A fleeting—but, at times, rather alluring—possibility in the back of her brain.
“If you gave Solange less control over your calendar?” Steph joked.
“Well, there’s that…” Dominique could too easily recall the look of sheer devastation on Solange’s face when she’d brought up the option of not running again. “But what I mean is…” God, it was hard to say it out loud. “That I would have much more time if I… decided not to run again.”
“What?” Steph had never sounded more incredulous. She sat up straight. “Wait, say that again because I’m not sure I heard you properly.”
Dominique sighed. “Don’t you think that the question should at least be pondered? I know very well that nobody will explicitly ask me, so I have to ask myself.”
“You’re right,” Steph said. “Not even I would have asked.”
“You would have just assumed, wouldn’t you?”
“Just like anyone else.” Steph stroked her chin. “Are you serious about this?”
“I’m serious in that I want to think about it thoroughly instead of just being automatically coaxed into running again… Not just because I think it’s going to be a very tight race.”
“Because of Rivière,” Steph stated more than asked.
“And Marechal. They’re both on the up, whereas my approval ratings are down.”
“Ah, but you know what would have them soar in a heartbeat?”
Dominique nodded. “A big lesbian wedding.”
“To one Stéphanie Mathis. Some pictures of the kids in front of us. Boom. Election gold.”
“You know when you proposed to me in such a dramatic fashion, for a second there, I believed you were a true romantic.” Dominique’s chest glowed warmly at the memory of Steph’s proposal.
“Yes, well, that was quite some time ago. Is this going to be one of those decade-long engagements or what?” There was kindness in Steph’s eyes when she spoke. They’d had this chat many times before.
When you were president, there just weren’t that many good times to get married, let alone go on a honeymoon. Although Dominique had to ask herself whether her reluctance to set a date had more deliberate reasons—like possible electoral gain. But no, she might have been born and bred in the bosom of politics, but she would never use her relationship for that. If anything, what she had with Steph was a much-needed antidote for the cynicism of politics. Maybe that was why they weren’t married yet. Subconsciously, Dominique wanted to wait until she wasn’t in office anymore.
“If I didn’t run, we could marry and take a gloriously long honeymoon.”
“I was just kidding.” Steph looked her in the eye. “I truly don’t mind being engaged to you a bit longer.”
Dominique gazed at Steph’s lovely features. Her bright blue eyes. Her hair that was always just a tiny bit too long. Her skin, smooth as porcelain. Some days, all she wanted was to spend more time with Steph. Or simply just spend one entire day with her, without interruptions. “Would you agree that, right now, I’m in the prime of my life?”
Steph jutted out her bottom lip. “I guess so. You certainly look rather scrumptious to me.” She had that leery look in her eyes—the one Dominique had fallen for instantaneously when they’d first met.
“Do I really want to spend another five years not thinking about myself? Not spending enough time with my children, who will be going to university by then?” The rate at which Lisa and Didier were growing up was what did her head in the most. “Am I not going to regret that later in my life? When you hear these stories of people on their deathbed talking about what they would have done differently, no one has ever said they wished they’d worked more and spent less time with their loved ones.”
“That might be true, but none of those people, I would dare say, held the highest office in their country. Ask the same question to any former president of France, and I think the answer might be very different.”
“Probably, but… those presidents weren’t women. I’m the first female president of France and, whether I want to admit it or not, so many things are different for me.”
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” Steph pushed herself up and sat on the armrest of Dominique’s chair.
“I have to be,” Dominique said. “I can’t just go blindly into another draining campaign and term—because if I run, I intend to win—just because it’s expected of me.”
“You never really were one to do what was expected of you.” Steph leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I should know.”
“Are you willing to try?” Juliette asked Claire.
“Work only thirty hours a week? Margot will have me declared insane. She might want to operate on my brain!”
Juliette shook her head and turned to Zoya. “How about you?”
“I’ve considered it and I think it’s a great idea. I think it might very well be the future.”
Steph smiled. Zoya Das had been an excellent acquisition for Barbier & Cyr. She knew her stuff, was a fast learner—she spoke good French already—and wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion.
“I’m not dead set against it,” Claire said. “I’m just not sure now’s the right time to do this trial.” She fixed her gaze on Steph. “I expect Dominique will be in touch about her campaign soon?”
Steph knew Barbier & Cyr had been approached by other political parties. Parties whose policies the staff of Barbier & Cyr generally agreed with much more. “I expect so,” Steph said, although, after last night’s conversation with Dominique, she couldn’t be entirely sure.
“I had a call from Aurore last night,” Zoya said. “She was rather cagey about it. She and Solange just broke up—again. She called to tell Camille and me about that, but I couldn’t shake the impression that she was somehow fishing for PR representation. Apparently, the Socialists have a big budget to spend.”
“They broke up again?” Claire asked.
“It’s no surprise,” Juliette said. “Clearly it’s not impossible.” She winked at Steph. “But having opposing political views doesn’t really make for a romantic match made in heaven.”
“How’s Aurore doing?” Dominique had told Steph about the split late last night—almost as an afterthought after what she had told her first.
“It was hard to gauge on the phone,” Zoya said. “But I did sense a sort of acceptance about the situation. If Aurore’s going to be working on Rivière’s presidential campaign and Solange is Dominique’s campaign manager, it would have become impossible in the end, either way. And it’s hardly been a bed of roses so far.”
“Solange is a pit bull. Once the campaign kicks off, she’ll have no time for a relationship, anyway,” Steph said. She felt for both of them regardless and made a mental note to call Aurore soon.
“Just to be one hundred percent clear, Steph,” Claire said. “Your fiancée will be hiring us for this campaign, won’t she? Other agencies are not in the running?”
Steph took a breath before speaking. She was a partner in this firm now. She had to tell the truth. “She would never choose another firm but… Dominique hasn’t decided to run yet.”
“What are you saying?” Juliette dropped her pen.
Steph had barely had time to get used to the idea herself. Even she was torn about it. On the one hand, she’d love nothing more than to spend more time with Dominique—and finally get married—but, on the other hand, she was sure that if Dominique didn’t run, she would regret it for the rest of her life. But Steph was not the person making the decisions. This was something only Dominique could decide.
“I’m saying that being president is not easy.”
“No one ever said it was easy,” Juliette said. “I just hadn’t expected it from Dominique. She’s such a fighter.”
“And such a political animal,” Claire added. “I think I might be in genuine shock.”
“It’s not a foregone conclusion. She only just mentioned it for the first time last night,” Steph said. “Solange was badgering her about it.”
“Do you think she’ll make a decision soon?” Claire asked.
“She has to,” Steph said.
“I’m not saying our firm can’t survive without running a presidential campaign, but if Dominique doesn’t run we—” Claire said.
“Claire, come on.” Juliette cut her off. “Don’t say something you might regret later.”
“I’m just being honest,” Claire said.
Juliette rolled her eyes.
“Maybe it would suit you if Dominique didn’t run. Then you could cut back your hours even more,” Claire said.
“I know things are difficult at home right now, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t take that out on us, your colleagues and friends,” Juliette said.”
“Sorry.” Claire heaved a sigh. “I’ve seen Margot crumble once before and she never does a half-assed job. When she crumbles, it’s all the way down.” She ran a hand through her hair.
Steph didn’t see her mother that often, but she couldn’t possibly imagine not having her around anymore. Margot had lost both her parents in a very short space of time and she wasn’t dealing with it very well.
“Can we do something to help?” Steph asked.
“She needs to talk about it. Process it. But Margot’s not a talker. She just works,” Claire said. “All the time. That’s why this thirty-hour week idea has been getting on my nerves so much. Honestly, I’d love to work a bit less but I would just spend the majority of my new-found free time waiting for my wife to come home from her eighty-hour work week.”
“I’ll ask Nadia to try again,” Juliette said. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a friend than to your significant other.”
“Nadz has tried so many times. Which I greatly appreciate,” Claire said. “I just hope that with time, it will get better.”
“Things usually do,” Zoya said.
“I’ll talk to her,” Steph said. “Margot has always been there for me when I really needed her.”
Claire nodded. “That would be wonderful, Steph.”
Steph’s to-do list was growing. Check in with Aurore about her breakup from Solange. Convince Dominique to run again, lest she regret it for the rest of her life. And have a chat with a grieving Margot. Good thing she only worked part-time at Barbier & Cyr for now, and that she wasn’t willing to invest that much energy in her other part-time job: being first lady.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said. At least she didn’t have to worry about Solange—she would be just fine. She’d much rather avoid Solange until Dominique had made her decision, because Solange would only try to rope her in to force Dominique to make a swift commitment—and if it were up to Solange, there was only one viable decision Dominique was allowed to make.
To her surprise, Claire found Margot on the sofa when she got home from work. These days, it was hard to gauge what kind of mood Margot would be in, so Claire always trod with caution.
“I’ve made a decision,” Margot said. Her voice sounded even, which gave Claire hope they could spend a nice evening together.
Claire quickly shook off her coat and sat next to Margot. “I’m all ears.”
“It came to me again on the way home. I took a detour to clear my head. I really needed it.”
“I think I might try to find my birth parents.” Margot looked Claire straight in the eye.
Claire’s eyebrows shot up. She had to take a moment to regroup. Not once in all their time together had Margot expressed any desire to look for her birth parents.
“That’s a big thing.” Claire shuffled in her seat.
“Is this the first time you’ve thought of doing this?”
Margot shook her head. “I’ve thought about it many times in the course of my life, but I knew it would hurt Mum and Dad if I did while they were still alive. And I didn’t want to lie to them about it or keep it from them. But now they’re dead and I just feel… this extreme emptiness inside of me. An emptiness I hadn’t expected to feel. Their death wasn’t supposed to knock me for six the way it has.”
“If two people that important to you die so suddenly, it’s always going to be unbelievably hard, babe. It’s normal.”
“That they’re no longer here is a thought I almost can’t bear. I don’t know why. This grief just lasts and lasts and I feel like I need to do something big to snap myself out of it.”
Claire wanted to be supportive. There used to be a time when she could be certain any decision Margot made was a hundred percent thought-through, but that time was not now. She had to be the one to think this through for Margot.
“It’s a big leap into the unknown.”
“I know.” The corners of Margot’s mouth drew into a crooked smile. “You probably think I’m crazy and this is a bad idea in the emotional state I’m in, but I need to do something.”
“I understand the need for action.” Claire didn’t want to interrupt Margot too much. Some days, she hardly said a word at all, so when she was talking, Claire wanted her to get as much out as possible.
“I know I’m springing this on you. I’m not talking about leaving for South Korea tomorrow. I want to talk to my sister first, which won’t be an easy conversation. I’ve just been thinking about trying to find them more and more lately, so maybe that’s what I need to do.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to Korea.” Claire tried a smile of her own.
“We’ll go together then.” Margot’s eyes brimmed with hope in a way they hadn’t done in a long time.
They sat in silence for a while. Claire wondered if Margot was conjuring up images of the woman who had given birth to her and her sister.
“How was your day?” Margot asked after a few minutes had passed.
“Juliette’s still going on about the thirty-hour workweek.” Claire inched a bit closer to her wife.
“I guess in some professions the number of hours you work isn’t as important as the way in which you use them.”
This remark caused Claire to look up.
“It’s logical,” Margot said matter-of-factly. “The only way a surgery I perform will ever get shorter in time is through medical and technological advancements. Some surgeries used to take eight hours and now only take half that.”
“But has that made you, and I mean you specifically, work fewer hours?”
Margot shook her head. “No, because I need the extra time to learn new procedures and keep up to speed with new techniques. My profession will always be a high-pressured one with long hours. Until the robots learn how to perform surgery on their own, of course.” She snickered.
“Would you let a robot operate on you?” Claire teased.
“If I was the one who trained and programmed it. Why not?” Margot burst into a chuckle.
“Yeah right.” Claire leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I haven’t told you the biggest piece of news from the inner sanctum of Barbier & Cyr yet.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“What?” Margot sounded genuinely curious. It was subtle, but her mood had improved.
“Dominique isn’t certain yet that she’ll be running for re-election.”
“Oh no,” Margot groaned. “She has to.”
“I guess that’s easy for us to say.”
“It might be, but that doesn’t change the fact that any alternative to Dominque as president is just an appalling thought.”
“Rivière isn’t too bad.”
“The Socialists have had their chance. Dominique is doing good things for this country. She needs another term to finish what she’s started.”
“Sounds like they need you at the Elysée to talk some sense into our president, babe.”
“I might just give Solange a call.”
Claire scanned Margot’s face. “You’re not even joking?”
“We are Dominique’s friends. If she needs us to make the best decision, we have to be there for her.”
“The best decision for whom, though?”
“For everyone.” Margot nodded forcefully.
“Oh, and Solange and Aurore broke up,” Claire added.
“I didn’t even know they’d got back together after their last breakup.”
“Political differences,” Claire said. “Not every relationship can withstand the issues they bring up.” She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet underneath her.
“Opposites can attract for a while, but those two are both way too consumed by their beliefs. I never gave them much chance for the long term.” Margot patted her knees.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Claire manoeuvred so she sat with her back against the armrest of the sofa, then stretched out her legs and put her feet in Margot’s lap.
“If Dominique does make the unthinkable decision not to run, whatever will Solange do with herself?” Margot asked.
“Work on the campaign of whoever else runs for the MLR, I guess.”
Margot caressed Claire’s ankle with her fingertip, exactly in the spot where Claire enjoyed it so much. “That will be a lost cause. If Dominique doesn’t run, it will be a two-woman race between Marechal and Rivière.”
“Oh, the horror.” Margot squeezed Claire’s big toe.
“You can’t compare Rivière to Goffin. Just like Dominique is so very different from the previous MLR president. They’re a new generation. And they’re women.”
“Let’s not talk about politics tonight, babe.” Margot, who was massaging her heel now, said on a sigh.
“Fine with me.” Claire moaned as Margot’s fingers found that special spot again.
<<End of preview>>
French Kissing: Season Five will be available on Tuesday 18 June 2019.
It’s now available for pre-order here: