Page 19 of Nothing Heals Me Like You Do
“How old was Dolly?” Justine asked as she followed Sienna to the dining area.
“A not very mature thirty.” Sienna headed into the spacious kitchen and turned her back on Justine, focusing on a pan on the stove.
Justine stopped at the large island separating the kitchen from the huge dining table.Jesus. This place.It must have cost a few million. The daily battles with insufficient funds in the shelter’s accounts made Justine too aware of how other people spent their money. And of the ridiculous amounts of cash they were willing to spend on a house while so many people didn’t have a roof over their head.
When she’d walked through the ornate lobby earlier, with its luxury furnishings and swanky chandeliers, her brain had already started doing inadvertent—and inappropriate—calculations. It was how Justine was wired after decades of fighting for money to shelter unhoused kids. She had to stop herself from doing the same as she looked around this place.
Then she spotted the Raffo Shah painting Sienna had told her about. It hung on a stark white wall next to the kitchen island that made its spectacular colors pop. Justine knew how much this painting was worth—just as she knew the value of the one Raffo had made especially for her. She hoped with every fiber of her being that she would never have to, but she also knew that if it meant she could create room for an extra kid who would otherwise have to sleep in the street, she’d sell it in a heartbeat—and Raffo would understand.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Sienna put the pan on the table. “The other one’s in my bedroom.” She chuckled. “I’m just stating a fact, not insinuating anything.”
Justine was drawn to the delicious smell coming from the pan.
“What’s for dinner?” If she could help it, Justine never cooked. She considered it a colossal waste of time. Why spend an hour preparing a meal if you could pop a pre-made lasagna in the microwave and have an apple for dessert?
“Mapo tofu with jasmine rice and a spicy cucumber salad. I figured Asian food would be okay since you took me to a Korean restaurant.”
“You really are full of surprises. That looks divine.” Justine happily settled at the table. She didn’t have any issues with a good-looking woman making her dinner.
“I like to cook. It relaxes me,” Sienna said. “My stepdad was the chef in our house and I was always hanging out with him in the kitchen.”
Oh, to have a father who buys you a multimillion dollar penthouse and a stepfather who teaches you how to cook.
Sienna put a plate worthy of a fancy restaurant in front of Justine.
“I’m really impressed with this.”
“You haven’t tasted it yet. Start with some cucumber. It’s very refreshing.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Maybe she could convince Sienna to volunteer in the shelter’s kitchen—but again, she halted her train of thought. Justine was aware that her brain was constantly suffused with thoughts of the shelter. It was always at the forefront of her mind. It was hard to switch off from, even when having a delicious meal cooked for her by Sienna Bright. Justine speared a cube of cucumber onto her fork and popped it in her mouth. It tasted salty and acidic and spicy all at the same time. “I guess you can cook.”
“It’s really useful when eating good food is your favorite hobby,” Sienna said. “The last few years, I’ve been cooking much more at home because it’s getting harder for me to just rock up at the newest restaurant hot spot in town.”
“Because you get recognized?” Justine tasted the tofu and that, too, was exactly the right combination of silky-smooth flavors and tanginess.
“And stared at and asked for selfies mid-meal. Things like that. You’d think I’d be used to it being Bobby Bright’s daughter, but my dad didn’t take us out that much. We didn’t see him that often.”
“But you’re close to your stepdad?” Justine asked between savoring one tasty bite after another. “This is so good, by the way. If your acting career goes off the rails for some inexplicable reason, please become a chef.”
Sienna smiled sheepishly, as though she’d heard that one a million times before.
“Eddy and I are very close. He’s just a great dude, you know, and he gave me and my sister what my father couldn’t: time and attention. He was there when we needed him, not for anything big in particular, just for all the mundane everyday stuff like homework or a scraped knee. And a lot of wonderful dinners at the kitchen table.”
“And your mother?”
“Mom is not allowed near the kitchen. She’s a terrible cook. She’d put lettuce in the microwave and stuff like that.” Sienna chuckled. “But my mother is… I kinda hate how this sounds, but she’s such an inspiration. Not just to me, but to so many girls and women of color. Not many women have accomplished what she has in the industry, let alone Black women.”
“They both sound really great.” Justine could only be happy for Sienna. She also couldn’t help but needle her a little. “So why this fascination with women who enjoy stringing you along and pretending they’re not interested?”
“It’s not always pretense, I’ll tell you that.” Sienna shrugged. “But I guess it’s more that I hate the opposite. You know that typical LA way of being hyper-friendly and calling someone you’ve just met amazing and wonderful. Ugh. It makes me break out in hives because being famous is absolutely not the same as being an amazing and wonderful person. On the contrary.”
“Yet you decided to become an actor?”
“Because I love acting.”
Or you’re subconsciously angling for daddy’s approval, Justine thought, but kept it to herself. This wasn’t a therapy session. Come to think of it, she didn’t really know what this was. Whether they called it that or not, it was beginning to feel a whole lot like a date.
“It’s a strange profession, though.” Justine filled her fork with more delicious tofu and rice. She couldn’t get enough of this dish.
