Interview with Love (14 page)

When his daughters remained silent, Gordon faced his oldest daughter, Sasha. “Where are you staying?”

“Well, since I'm not welcome at my sister's house—”

“Gee, what tipped you off?”

Sasha looked back to her father. “I'll get a hotel.”

“Nonsense,” Cassandra chimed in. “You'll stay with us.”

“Mom,” Sienna choked out.

Sasha glanced at her sister. “Dad, I don't want to cause any trouble.”

“You should've thought of that before you got off the plane.”

Gordon gave Sienna a stern look. “Nonsense, it's all settled. We'll see you at home.”

Gordon and Cassandra walked toward the doorway shuttling everyone out with them.

Without a word Vaughn followed suit. He walked next to Gordon. “Mr. Lambert, if you wouldn't mind dropping everyone back here I'll take them home.”

“Nonsense. You stay here with those two. We'll see everyone home. Besides, I think they're going to need a referee,” Gordon replied, grimly.

“I don't know if I'm the best person for that task, sir. Truthfully, I'm still reeling from all this.”

“I understand. Don't go too hard on my daughter. She and her sister, Sasha, have been at odds every since that damned beauty pageant.”

Vaughn looked over. “What beauty pageant?”

“I'll let Sienna fill you in on that one. Both of them are pigheaded. Lord knows where they got that from,” Gordon chuckled. Suddenly, he grew serious. “Vaughn, though brief, it was good meeting you. It's nice to see Sienna so happy. Still, as a father I can't help but worry about her—about both my little girls.”

“From what I've seen, you have just cause.”

Gordon slapped him on the back. “Don't I know it? I've been running behind those two since the moment they learned how to walk.”

Vaughn said goodbye to his brother and Carlton. He gave Angella a kiss on the forehead. I'll see you later.”

“Never a dull moment, huh?” she observed.

“Don't get fresh young lady,” he didn't want to, but Vaughn couldn't help but smile.

“I don't suppose you could call me later and tell me what happens?”

He playfully yanked on her ponytail. “Not a chance. Too much grown-up stuff for you little Miss.”

Cassandra came over and hugged Vaughn quickly. “I'm sorry we had to cut our evening short. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Vaughn.”

“Likewise, Mrs. Lambert.”

“None of that. You call me Cassandra or Cassie.”

Grinning, he nodded. “Thank you, Cassie.”

He stood at the door watching them all load up into Gordon's Chevy Tahoe. By the time Vaughn stepped aside to shut the door, a heated discussion could be heard from the kitchen.

 

“So why have you shown up, Sasha? Somehow I doubt you came all this way for the little cumbayah moment we all just had. Mom and Dad are gone so you can come clean.”

“Actually, I just came here to visit and to relax. Work has been crazy lately and I missed everyone.”

“You missed us? You haven't been home in over a year and you expect me to believe you were so homesick you caught the first flight out of London to Raleigh just so you could see your long lost family? Give me a break. Our parents may buy that snow job, but I don't.”

“If you recall I tried to call you—several times over the last few months. You haven't bothered returning my calls.”

“That's because I have nothing to say to you.”

“So,” Vaughn called from across the room interrupting the mêlée. “Are there any more siblings or dark secrets I don't know about?”

Both sisters remained tight lipped. When Sienna glanced at him she noticed the strain in his features. It was obvious that Vaughn was holding himself in check. She bit her lower lip. “I guess you and I have some things to talk about as well.”

“Why don't the two of you sit down in the living room and talk? Going twenty rounds in the kitchen may not be the ideal place to sort things out.”

Neither one moved.

“Okay,” he went over and placed a hand at Sienna's back and guided her off to the side. “You and Sasha need to go hash this out. It doesn't take someone with a Ph.D. in Psychology to figure out you two have some serious baggage.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, quietly.

He looked down at her. “One thing at a time, Doc,” he said, with resignation. “But make no mistake you and I will talk later.”

She nodded, and then walked into the living room. Sasha remained where she was. Vaughn turned to face her. “You brought the match to this bonfire now you go put it out.”

“It's hardly that simple,” Sasha swept past him and out the door.

Vaughn retrieved a beer from the refrigerator. He walked over and sat heavily on a nearby bar stool. “If they had metal chairs to throw around we'd have a daytime talk show.”

When Sasha entered the room, Sienna reeled around to face her. “Why did you do it? As if our relationship wasn't screwed up enough you felt the need to bring Vaughn into this?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Bull. You just admitted you came here because curiosity got the better of you. You had to see for yourself who I was dating.”

“I wonder if this relationship will last. Don't you find it odd that we both have such difficulty sustaining lasting relationships?”

“Not really. Sooner or later they all end with you trying to sabotage my relationship.”

“It hurts doesn't it?”

Sienna laughed harshly. “You've got to be kidding me. This isn't the same and you know it. Your boyfriend was a trifling S.O.B. that didn't deserve the time and effort you spent claiming to love him.”

“I did love him.”

“Then those sentiments were sorely misplaced. He knew I wasn't you and yet he tried to sleep with me anyway. If he hadn't been so freaking drunk that night it would've ended a lot worse,” she said, tearfully. “What he did to you—and me was reprehensible, but did you call him out for it? Did you kick him to the curb? No, you blamed me, like I'd ever purposefully entice that sorry excuse for a man. What's sad is that you stayed in that dysfunctional relationship after what happened. You chose him over your own sister. You knew he was unworthy of you, and yet you continually projected your dislike of him and his shortcomings onto me.”

“Stop it,” Sasha warned. “Don't you dare analyze me. You're no saint, Sienna. You're just as flawed as I am.”

“I never said I wasn't.”

“Since when? All I heard about growing up was how all this was my fault. The one thing I was good at, you took from me.”

“I didn't take it from you, Sasha. You asked me to do it.”

“Like I had a choice? I wasn't about to be booted out of the pageant because of a stupid broken leg, so I asked my twin sister to take my place. How did I know my very own sister would stab me in the back?”

“You call my winning stabbing you in the back?”

“It was my name. I won and I deserved that crown.”

“What am I just a stunt double when it's convenient? I won that beauty contest on
my
merits Sasha, not yours.”

“Without me you wouldn't even have been in the contest.”

“And without me dear sister you wouldn't have won. You would've been disqualified. I can't believe you're so ungrateful. I gave you everything else: The title, the accolades, the prizes. You had it all. Why wasn't that enough for you? Why would you begrudge me that one tangible object that proved I'd done something for myself?”

“Correction, you did it for me.”

Sienna threw up her hands. “You always were a narcissist, Sasha. Don't you find it sad we're still harboring grudges for things that happened seventeen years ago, and why? Because you can't stand that for one brief moment in time you weren't the center of everyone's universe?”

“Are you trying to call me shallow?”

“If the stilletos fit…”

 

Vaughn was texting Carlton on his Blackberry while Sienna and her sister hurled salvos at one another.

“Coast clear?”

“Nope, they're still going strong. How's dinner?”

“Much better for us than for you.”

We went to the Asian bistro on High House Road.”

“Red Bowl? Man, that's one of my favorites.”

“It's odd, though.”

“What?”

“I can't believe you didn't know it wasn't Sienna.”

“How the hell was I supposed to figure that one out? I just thought she'd done something different with her hair.”

“Couldn't you tell by how she kissed or something? I know she's an identical twin, but aren't there some differences?”

“Remind me to punch you when I see you.”

“So why didn't she tell you she had a sister?”

“That my friend is the question of the night.”

“Pierce is in rare form. It's like he finds an entourage wherever he goes.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I'm serious, it's incredible to watch. Apparently it's pheromones.”

“Don't encourage him.”

“Angella says I need to get Dazzled.”

“No, you need to get Dating.”

Suddenly, Vaughn heard Sasha call Sienna's name twice. After that he heard a loud thud. He dropped his cell phone on the counter and raced from the room.

When Vaughn entered the living room he found Sienna lying prostrate on the floor with her hands griping her temples. He dropped down beside her. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?” When she didn't reply Vaughn turned on Sasha. “What in the hell did you do?”

“I didn't do anything,” Sasha said, bitingly. “She collapsed.”

He watched Sienna writhe in pain. Smoothing her hair out of her face, he didn't bother looking up when he ground out, “Start talking.”

“Lower your voice,” Sasha scolded. “She's suffering from a migraine headache.”

“A migraine? I've never seen someone collapse from one.”

“Really, and how many people do you know with this affliction?”

Vaughn remained silent.

“I'm going to be sick,” Sienna announced, doubling over.

Running to the laundry room, Vaughn returned seconds later with an empty five-gallon bucket.

Sasha gawked at him. “What are you doing?”

“She said she was going to be sick.”

“Could that bucket get any bigger?”

“She said she had to throw up, and I got her a bucket. Next time you go find one,” he said, with derision.

Gently, he lifted Sienna off the floor and onto the nearby couch. Tears streamed down her face. Vaughn knelt beside the couch and positioned the container within easy reach. “The bucket is right here in case you need it, sweetheart. It's going to be okay,” he turned to Sasha. “What else can I do? Should we take her to the hospital?”

“No. First thing we do is get her upstairs so she can lie down. The room needs to be dark. We need an ice pack. If she doesn't have one, a hand towel with ice wrapped in it will do.”

His expression darkened. “You'd better know what you're doing.”

Sasha's glare was instantaneous. “I've been taking care of her a lot longer than you have.”

“Clearly it's the quality, not the quantity.”

He picked Sienna up and cradled her against his chest. His progression up the stairs was slow to keep from jostling her. Once he reached her bedroom, Vaughn laid her in the middle of the bed. Sasha was right behind him. “I've got her. You go get the ice pack.”

He lingered a moment.

“You're wasting valuable time, Mr. Deveraux. Unless you enjoy seeing my sister suffer?”

“Be a bitch on your own time,” he snapped, striding quickly from the room.

By the time Vaughn got back, the room was devoid of light except for a small candle sitting on a nearby table. He handed Sasha the ice pack and then hovered while she applied it to her sister's forehead. “I'll give her a therapeutic massage. That should relax her body and alleviate the stress. Hopefully that will put her to sleep. She should feel better when she wakes up.”

“Shouldn't we get a professional?”

Sasha fixed him with a venomous stare. “I am a licensed massage therapist.”

Vaughn looked skeptical. “Did you pick that up in beauty pageant school?”

“Be a bitch on your own time,” she threw back at him. “There's a bag next to my suitcase in the trunk.” She tossed him her keys. “I'll need it.”

Vaughn retrieved her bag and then went downstairs so that Sasha could work on her sister in private.

At a loss for something to do, he made Sienna some tea. While the water was boiling, Vaughn wondered if giving her caffeine would be a good idea. Deciding to err on the side of caution, he turned the water off. A few minutes later, Vaughn alternated between pacing and checking his wrist watch. A loud ring pierced the silence. With a quick yank, he retrieved his phone from his front pocket. He saw the call was from Carlton. “Hello?”

“What happened? You stopped texting so suddenly. Has everyone gone to neutral corners?”

“At the moment, but only because Sienna is suffering from a migraine.”

“A massage could help. Why didn't you call me? I would've come back over.”

“No need. Sasha is a massage therapist, too. Besides, you're not seeing my girl partially dressed. No offense.”

“None taken,” Carlton assured him. “It appears this evening has been full of revelations.”

“Tell me about it,” Vaughn quipped.

“I'll let you go. You let me know if you need anything. I'm serious.”

“I know. Thanks, Carl.”

An hour later, Sasha descended the stairs. Vaughn was on his laptop reading message boards, scanning chat rooms and searching websites for anything he could find on migraine headaches. He glanced in her direction when she came into the room. He watched Sasha drop her bag on the rug next to a chair. She raised her arms over her head and then she stretched them one at a time across her chest.

Sliding the computer to the side he asked, “How is she?”

“She's doing much better.” She reclined in the chair and stretched her legs out in front of her. “The massage helped. She was able to drift off to sleep. More than likely she'll be out for the rest of the night.”

Vaughn nodded. “So what brought this on?”

“She started getting them when we were in middle school. Usually there's a trigger. Sienna's is stress.”

“Funny, she's never had them with me.”

Sasha bristled. “Maybe you just haven't had a chance to thoroughly piss her off yet,” her smile was overly bright. “Give it time.”

With an insincere smile of his own, he continued questioning her. “So, what are Sienna's symptoms—besides you?”

“Blurry vision or bright flashes of light dancing before her eyes. Sometimes she mentions smelling green apples before a migraine hits,” Sasha shrugged. “I guess we were so busy arguing she overlooked them.”

“What about the nausea or vomiting,” Vaughn added. “Did she throw up when you were upstairs?”

“No. Your precious bucket is still spotless.”

Vaughn smirked at that. “Where did you pick up massage therapy?”

“I trained a few years ago. I worked at a spa for a while, but then changed career paths.”

He placed his feet back up on the ottoman in front of the couch and folded his arms across his chest. He closed his eyes. “There are just so many issues with this evening I don't know where to begin.”

Sasha studied him. A loud sigh escaped her lips. “I suppose we should start with my apologizing for what happened in the kitchen earlier. It…was uncalled for.”

“If you're referring to not stopping me before I kissed you, then hell yes, that was uncalled for.”

Her gaze met his. “I'm sorry.”

Vaughn inclined his head.

“I guess you heard everything Sienna and I talked about?”

“Not all of it. Still, it is surprising that with all the animosity the two of you share you still came to her rescue.”

“Did you think I wouldn't?” she asked, incredulously. “She's my sister. Regardless of what we're going through, or how screwed up our relationship, I couldn't let her suffer.”

“A headache,” he said, pointedly.

She blanched at his insult. “I'm outta here.” She jumped to her feet and slung her bag over her shoulder. “There's a great deal you don't know about, Mr. Deveraux.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Don't you find it strange you didn't know I existed? I'd wager you find Sienna's lack of honesty as bizarre as I do.”

“Somewhat, but that's a conversation that I'll be having with my girlfriend—not her sister.”

“Whatever.” Sasha headed to the door. “I'll be at my parents' house. Call me if she needs anything.”

Vaughn got up and followed her to the door. “Thank you, Sasha,” he called after her.

She turned. “I didn't do it for you, Mr. Deveraux.”

He watched out the door until she was in her car and backing down the driveway. He shut the door and turned off the porch light. Straightening up the downstairs and dousing all the candle lights went by quickly. He checked the doors to make sure they were locked before he headed to the second floor. Stealthily, he entered Sienna's bedroom. Going straight to the bed, Vaughn stared down at her. Her eyes were closed.
Good,
he told himself,
she needs the rest.
He caught himself before touching her. He wasn't sure if he would make matters worse, and there was no way he would risk causing her additional pain.

Though the bed was ample, Vaughn figured it would be better for him to sleep on the couch in her room. He didn't want to run the risk of rolling over in his sleep. Besides, he wanted to be near in case she needed him. He turned away.

“I thought you'd be gone,” she said, weakly.

Astonished, Vaughn turned toward her. “Hey, what are you doing awake?”

“I heard you come in.”

“Sorry about that. I was trying to be quiet,” he sat softly on the side of the bed next to her. “You should try and go back to sleep.”

“I'll be okay if you want to leave,” she assured him.

“Sienna, I'm not going anywhere.”

“I wouldn't blame you if you were angry with me…not after what happened earlier.”

Vaughn took her hand in his. “I'm not angry, Doc. I won't lie, I am a bit disappointed, though,” he kissed her fingers. “Regardless of what happened I'm not about to leave you here alone, okay?”

Sienna nodded.

“Try and rest. If you need me I'm right over there on the couch.”

“Vaughn, you don't have to sleep on the couch. That can't be comfortable. You can use the guestroom, or I'll move over and—”

“Sweetheart, I'll be fine. You just relax. I'll see you in the morning.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. He went into the bathroom to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. Quietly, he went down the hall to the guest bath so he wouldn't disturb her. He made quick work of brushing his teeth and showered. The hot water helped him unwind.
What a night,
he thought.

After he'd finished, Vaughn wrapped a towel around his waist and swept up his clothes from off the floor. He stopped at the linen closet and retrieved a pillow, sheet and blanket. Not wanting to turn the light on in her closet, Vaughn folded his clothes and placed them on the table.

The job of making up his makeshift bed complete, he walked over to the dresser and pulled a pair of pajama bottoms out of the drawer that Sienna had assigned him. When he slid it open, he fondly recalled the night she had cleared her things out and ceremoniously announcing it was now his to use. The grin that plastered itself across his face prompted Sienna to comment,
“It's only a drawer.”

“To you it may only be a drawer,”
he replied, taking her in his arms, “
but to me, it's my drawer.”

“Then I'm glad you like it,” she laughed.

He discarded the towel and replaced it with pajama bottoms. He lowered himself onto the sofa. With one arm stretched across his eyes and another over the top of the couch, Vaughn drifted in and out of a troubled sleep.

 

The next morning Vaughn sat on the side of the sofa massaging his neck and the top of his shoulders. It may have started out heavenly, but the unforgiving couch quickly morphed into a chenille-covered torture device. Standing, Vaughn silently stretched. The room held the muted glow of the newly risen sun. He checked his watch. It was just after six in the morning. Luckily, it was light enough for him to retrieve a pair of boxer briefs, a t-shirt and jeans without turning on a lamp.

His gaze traveled to the bed. Sienna hadn't moved from the position he left her in last night. S
he must have been out of it not to have tossed and turned like she normally does,
Vaughn told himself. His stomach growled, a reminder that they had skipped dinner the night before. He padded out of the room to go downstairs and fix breakfast.

He took a few minutes to research what foods fought headaches. He went with oatmeal. It was one of Sienna's favorite comfort foods, plus he had read it would be helpful after her episode.

The phone rang while he was in the kitchen. Vaughn answered on the first ring before it woke Sienna up. “Hello?”

“How's my baby girl?” Sienna's father asked, with concern. “Sasha told us what happened.”

“Good morning, Colonel Lambert. Sienna may not have had the best night, but at least she slept through it.”

“We can come. Do you need us to drop over and relieve you?”

“No, sir, things are fine here.”

“All right. Call us if you need anything or when she wakes up, Deveraux. I mean it,” he warned.

“Yes sir,” Vaughn almost saluted the telephone. “Have a good day, Colonel.”

“Cut the formalities son, and call me Gordon.”

“Will do, Colonel—Gordon.”

“That's better,” he replied before hanging up.

 

Vaughn checked on Sienna often. Whenever he poked his head in the bedroom, she was asleep. He ate breakfast, and then took his laptop upstairs to work for a while. He always smiled when he went into Sienna's home office. It was almost a mirror image of the layout at her job and just as meticulous. “You are too efficient, baby,” he chuckled before sliding the chair up to the desk. He had copy to write for a sporting goods client's new ad campaign. After about an hour, Vaughn tilted back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. He ran a hand over his stubble laden face. Silently, he pondered all that had transpired since arriving at Sienna's house fourteen hours earlier.

“Vaughn?”

His chair snapped forward. He got up and strode into Sienna's bedroom. She was sitting up slightly against the pillows.

“Hey,” he replied, walking toward her.

“Hi,” she said, in a voice deepened by sleep.

Disturbing the edge of her bed, Vaughn settled next to her. “How's my Sleeping Beauty?”

“Feeling like I've been asleep for a week,” she yawned. She ran her tongue over her teeth. “Yuck. Do I look a mess, because I sure feel it?”