Page 51 of Nothing Heals Me Like You Do

Sienna sank back into the couch and waited for her mother to return. When she didn’t, Sienna switched the television back on. An image of her father looked back at her from the big screen.

There was no other way for Justine to show how sorry she was than to turn up at Maxine Brewster’s house. She knew from Rochelle that Sienna was staying at her mother’s. Maxine had spoken to her through the intercom when Justine had rung the bell, and asked her to wait outside because she wanted to have a word.

Maxine Brewster was by all means a formidable woman—a true force of nature who had single-handedly changed the status of Black women in Hollywood, according to Rochelle—and she was another hurdle for Justine to negotiate while trying to regain access to Sienna. While trying to get some face time with her. To just catch a glimpse of her face, to erase the memory of Sienna’s wounded expression when Justine had seen her last.

Maxine appeared and closed the security gates behind her.

“You have a lot of nerve,” Maxine started as soon as she was close enough to Justine to be heard. “To come here.” She pointed at the massive mansion behind her. “After you sat across from me, in my own kitchen, and promised me that you’d be there for my daughter.”

“I get that you’re upset, Maxine.” Justine knew how to keep calm in situations like this, even though Maxine’s accusation wasn’t entirely justified. Not in Justine’s book anyway, although she might be the only person who felt that way about it. “But if I could just talk to Sienna. Just for a few minutes.”

“She doesn’t want to see you and I don’t blame her.” Maxine crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Does she—” Justine tried to say, but Maxine cut her off.

“I think it would be best if you left Sienna alone.” Justine had dealt with far more menacing people than Maxine Brewster, yet she was intimidated by her. She was like a mama bear protecting her cub—like the mother Justine never had, and she could only respect that. “She doesn’t need another person in her life who she can’t rely on. Like the one who just died.”

It was a bit rich to compare Justine to Sienna’s absent father, but she guessed Maxine was hurting as well—if only by seeing her children grieve—and lashing out at Justine was easy enough. Apparently, it was the best way for all the Brewsters and the Brights to blow off steam, although Justine could only wish that Sienna would at least hurl some accusations at her face-to-face instead of shutting her out completely.

It was obvious this mama bear wasn’t going to let Justine anywhere near her child. To have a mother like that, someone who came out swinging and fought your battles for you, who was willing to take that first, biting sting of pain for you. Poor Ashleigh, in her hospital bed, now battling even more guilt and shame, could only dream of a parent like that.

“Okay.” Justine held up her hands in supplication. “I’ll go.” She looked Maxine straight in the eye. “Please, tell her…” Justine didn’t finish her sentence, just shook her head. It wasn’t as though she didn’t understand all this hardness, all this posturing and putting up a shield. She was an expert at it. All she could hope was that, unlike with some of the scars on her own heart, a touch of softening would occur before it was too late. Before the scar tissue became permanent.

She turned around and trudged back to her car. More patience and time would be required.

Chapter28

Sienna wasn’t shooting, and Justine needed some punishment. She couldn’t think of a better place to get what she deserved than theGimme Sheltermovie set. Whatever plan she could possibly hatch would have to wait until Sienna was at least willing to talk to her again—to answer the phone when Justine called. Maybe it was a good thing, because Justine had not been able to come up with a plausible plan just yet—especially after Maxine’s reprimand.

She showed up at the set without giving it much thought and, perhaps, also because Rochelle had assured her that, even though it would surely hurt, it would still be healing.

There was a different kind of energy in the air than last time Justine had visited and she soon found out why. Nora Levine was shooting her scenes as Justine’s mother today.

Just as she was thinking of leaving—Justine didn’t needthatmuch punishment—she spotted a familiar figure. Someone she hadn’t seen in years but whose tall stature was so distinctive, Justine would recognize it anywhere. No-Mercy Marcy.

When Marcy noticed Justine walking over, she did a visible double take.

“I know this movie is about you,” she said in her deep voice. “But never in a million years did I expect you to be here.”

“Why not?” Even though things hadn’t ended well between her and Marcy, Justine opened her arms to her ex. “Although, to be honest, I didn’t know they were shooting Nora’s scenes today. The schedule’s been overhauled so much, I can’t keep up.”

Marcy gave her a tight bear hug which, for Marcy, was just a normal hug.

“Given your presence,” Justine said, “I take it you’re still torturing Nora on a daily basis?” Marcy had been Nora Levine’s personal trainer for a very long time—Nora didn’t like change and Marcy got excellent results.

“Correct, although I also have another reason for being here.” Marcy stood there beaming, looking strong and healthy and, come to think of it, ridiculously happy. “The director is kind of my mother-in-law.”

Justine tilted her head while running the names of Mimi’s kids through her head. Her son was engaged to a member of Nora’s posse, and she couldn’t remember Mimi’s other children.

“I’m with Jennifer, Mimi’s daughter,” Marcy explained. “We’ve been together almost a year.” She pointed at a woman of about Sienna’s age who was chatting to Mimi next to the soundstage.

“I’m so happy for you, Marcy. I really am.”

“What about you?” Marcy shuffled her weight around—she was all impressive muscle and shapely long limbs. “I’ve heard the rumors. It’s hard not to in the St James family.”

Mercifully, the call for silence on set came.

“We should grab a drink after this,” Marcy whispered. “For old times’ sake.”

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