Chapter 28
Sienna wasn’t shooting, and Justine needed some punishment. She couldn’t think of a better place to get what she deserved than the Gimme Shelter movie 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 need that much 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.”
“We should?” Justine looked Marcy in the eye.
“Definitely.” Marcy was not the kind of person you said no to—although Justine had said no plenty of times when they’d been going out.
“Okay.”
Another call for silence came. Maybe because of Nora’s professional presence the vibe was more tense than the previous times Justine had visited. Or maybe it was the scene that was being shot.
Before she knew it, and very much against her will, Justine was drawn into it.
Justine had no idea how the makeup department accomplished this, but Alexis had been made to look a lot younger than in the other scenes, when she was meant to be twenty-five. But seeing Nora was the biggest shock to Justine’s system. Yes, that was Nora’s face, one of the most recognizable faces in the world, yet she conjured up Justine’s mother effortlessly. Many had considered Monica Blackburn a beautiful woman. Maybe, on the outside, she was. But to Justine, she would always be the woman who had kicked her out of her house instead of the mother who was meant to care for her. There was nothing beautiful about that.
She watched the scene and the distress of seeing Nora as her mother quickly subsided as Justine’s heart turned into stone again. She needn’t have worried about this scene—about being here while it was shot. It could no longer touch her. Justine had made herself so strong, had armored her heart with fortified steel of the highest order, Monica Blackburn, or anyone else for that matter, could never hurt her again.
“Jen wanted to get in shape and was looking for a personal trainer,” Marcy said. “Nora recommended me.” She waggled her eyebrows. “And here we are, a year down the line.”
Marcy looked utterly content. She popped a piece of fried chicken in her mouth—not something Justine could remember her ever doing when they’d been dating.
“She has softened my hardest edges just a fraction.” Marcy grinned at her. “Yum. Why is this chicken so damn delicious?”
“Because Min-ji is a wizard in the kitchen,” Justine said.
Jennifer had been called away for an emergency at work—something with a mobile app Justine didn’t fully understand—and the drink she and Marcy had decided to grab had turned into an impromptu dinner at Min-ji’s.
“But she’s not even in the kitchen,” Marcy said. “She’s front of house. She conjured up this table out of nowhere for us.”
“You know better than to ask me why a piece of food is so good.” Justine shrugged. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about it.
“Correct.” Marcy fixed her deep-brown gaze on Justine. “Some things never change.”
“I’m glad you’re so happy. That you found someone who, um, really gets you.” Justine knew better than most how difficult that was.
“It wasn’t easy.” Despite what she was saying, Marcy’s face lit up. “Jen was”—she curled her fingers into air quotes—“‘self-partnered’ at the time. She was truly convinced in her heart that she, herself, was the best partner she could ever find.”
“Hm.” Justine had never thought about things like that. “That’s very interesting.” Maybe she should consider it. Who understood her better than she did herself? Even the people who made the effort to get what Justine was all about, like Rochelle, didn’t last, because—Justine knew this about herself as well—she simply wasn’t prime relationship material. Maybe a self-partnered relationship with herself was all she could hope for.
“Try to compete with that.” A wide grin broke on Marcy’s face. “But Jen kept booking more and more sessions with me until, well, they weren’t really personal training sessions anymore.” She threw in a chuckle. “We had our hands all over each other for all sorts of exercises that really didn’t require such a hands-on approach.”
Marcy was so obviously in love—of course, it made Justine think of Sienna. She missed her and she wished she could be there for her—that was, at the very least, something Justine knew she was good at. She could help Sienna through this hard time. She was certain of that. If only she’d let her.
“What happened with you and this hotshot actor playing your ex-girlfriend?” Marcy’s gaze softened.
“I fucked up.” Once, Justine thought. One single time. “A girl at the shelter had to go to hospital on the day of Sienna’s dad’s funeral.”
“And you had to go with her?” Marcy’s tone was not judgmental, which was refreshing.
“I did.” Justine could regret making the wrong choice, but she would never regret what she actually did. She couldn’t regret being there for Ashleigh when she needed her most.
“I take it Sienna Bright doesn’t see it that way.”
“No, and I get that. I completely understand. She’s lost her dad. She’s in pain. She needed me.” This was also true. But two things could be true at the same time. “I wasn’t there. Story of my life, right?” Justine gave a half-smile.
“Of your love life, sure,” Marcy confirmed. “I never felt so neglected than when I was dating you. The hours I spent waiting for you.” She puffed out some air. “It annoyed the hell out of me because it so clearly said what you could never say to me in words. That I could never mean as much to you as your job. As the shelter. Jen’s busy too, but it’s completely different. It’s a lot more… respectful and communicative. You were always so totally absorbed by what you do and the kids you were looking after. I gather that hasn’t changed either?” Marcy’s gaze on Justine was kind and understanding, despite what she’d just said. Justine didn’t take it as an insult. Being there for the shelter residents was never an insult. It was who she was. It was Justine Blackburn to her very core.
“Still, it was different with Sienna,” Justine admitted. “In my heart, I feel as though I have been there for her.” It probably wasn’t a good idea to tell Marcy, her ex, how effortless it had been to find time for Sienna—something she had failed at big time with Marcy. “Although I do know that I fucked up. She doesn’t want anything to do with me at the moment. She’s still in so much pain. I guess I can only bide my time.” Sienna was still in the movie. They’d have to see each other at some point in the near future.
Marcy narrowed her eyes and looked across Justine’s shoulder. “What the—” she said, her voice trailing off. “Either my mind is fabricating images of Sienna Bright because we’re talking about her or she just walked into this restaurant.”
“What?” Every single last one of Justine’s muscles tensed up. Sienna was here? She turned around and saw Maxine and Taissa take a seat at a table on the other side of the room. And then, sure enough, she caught a glimpse of Sienna’s gorgeous face before she sat with her back to Justine.