“You’re smitten,” Rochelle said. “That’s why it feels so easy.”
“I’ve been smitten before.” Justine drank from her tea. “I was quite smitten with Marcy. Don’t you remember?”
Rochelle shook her head. “I don’t.”
“Really?” Justine studied her friend’s face to make sure she wasn’t pulling her leg.
“Yes, really. You’re not exactly an open book about who you date and, on top of that, you barely have time for your girlfriends, let alone have them spend time with me.”
Justine shrugged, because Rochelle was right—she usually was about these things. “That’s what so baffling, though.” She took a beat. “For Sienna, I suddenly have all the time in the world.”
“Because you want to.” Rochelle grinned at her. “You make the time.”
“Maybe.” It must be a subconscious process because it felt like a normal part of her day to drive to Sienna’s penthouse after work or to sit through movies with her or, most of all, to sleep with her. “But what I definitely don’t get is why, out of all the women in Los Angeles, this hot, talented, clever, super-fun thirty-six-year-old actor wants to be with me.”
“You never understand why someone wants to be with you. You didn’t get what I saw in you, and you still don’t, even after all this time.”
That much was definitely true. Justine was not an easy woman. She had accomplished some things in her life, like founding a shelter, which seemed a huge achievement to many, while for her, it had been a necessity. People loved to confuse Justine’s relentless drive and endless zeal for sacrifice and hard work, but it never felt like that for Justine. It was simply what she did.
“It’s pretty obvious Sienna looks up to me.” Justine ignored Rochelle’s remark. “She says all this stuff about me being special and blah-blah-blah. I’m not special. Like millions of other people on this planet, I just get things done.”
“You run a homeless shelter for queer kids. You’re very visible, and they’re making a movie about your life,” Rochelle stated. “That’s hardly like millions of other people.”
Justine needed some levity so she batted her lashes. “Don’t tell me you think I’m special, too.”
“That’s your biggest problem right there.” Rochelle squared her shoulders. “And I get it. I’ve always understood, from the moment I met you, I got it. Where it came from. This need to make things into a joke, to run away from your feelings and bury yourself in work and purpose and being important in the lives of kids just like yourself. It’s why I warned Sienna about you after that first time you slept together.” Rochelle wasn’t mincing her words. “You spend so much time trying to convince the kids at the shelter that they’re worthy of love, that being rejected by their own parents doesn’t automatically make them unlovable, and you’re damn good at it, except with yourself. At fifty-four, deep down, you still believe you can’t be loved.”
“Not that old chestnut again.” Justine and Rochelle had had a version of this conversation countless times over the years, usually after one of Justine’s ill-advised affairs had crashed apart again.
“I may repeat myself, but that doesn’t make it any less true.” On some level, Rochelle was right, but not as much as she liked to believe.
“Clearly,” Justine said, because that’s why she’d come here—not to rehash her so-called biggest problem but to show Rochelle she’d moved past it. “I’m letting myself be loved now.”
“Are you?” Rochelle pinned her dark gaze on Justine. “You just literally said you don’t get why Sienna has feelings for you.”
“I may not get it, but I’m letting it happen.”And every minute of it is utterly glorious.“When we first started hooking up, Sienna said she finds women who play hard to get irresistible, but I’ve never done that. Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Sometimes, it’s as simple as two people liking each other and having the hots for each other, which is obviously the case here. The question is… what happens next?”
“We just go on liking each other and having the hots for each other,” Justine said, perhaps not quite believing it could be that simple.
“You have no idea how much I want that for you.” Rochelle smiled at her. “I know I give you a hard time, but I’m doing it for a reason.”
“Because you still love me.” Justine wasn’t quipping now.
“I do—and you know it.”
“I love you too, Roche.” Justine huffed out some air. “But this movie.” She shook her head. “I think this movie might also have something to do with me spending so much time with Sienna.”
“Because she’s playing me?” It was Rochelle’s turn to bat her lashes.
“Yes.” Justine was adamant. “It’s all connected. That time when you and I met, Roche. I was so damaged and angry and hurt. It’s a challenge to go back there.” Justine hadn’t returned to the set. Not only because she had far better things to do with her precious time, but also because she didn’t want to see Alexis play that young, vulnerable version of herself that Justine had left behind a long time ago. “That was not a good time.”
“I know, but look what you made it into.”
Justine shook her head. “Not you as well.”
Rochelle rolled her eyes. “This movie is being shot as we speak. It’s happening. I know firsthand how difficult it is to get a production off the ground in Hollywood, but this one is really happening. Your story’s being told.” She paused to give Justine a poignant look. “I know your reasons for agreeing to it are very different than mine, and the last thing you want is some sort of glory off the back of it, or to revisit a challenging time in your past. But it’s all happening, because life can be fucking funny that way. Have you thought about that? When I was watching that scene being shot of us meeting thirty years ago, my mind was blown, because not only was I watching our first meeting being turned into a movie scene, but I was also thinking of how crazy it is that this movie is actually being made. When you think about all the pieces that needed to fall into place for that, and the lives we’ve lived since. It’s hard to wrap my head around sometimes.”