Interview with Love

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Interview with Love Page 3

by Lisa Y. Watson


  “You should’ve come with me,” she said, without preamble.

  “Darn, I knew it! Hunks galore? Unlimited adult beverages and all the food I could’ve eaten?”

  “Yes, yes and yes.”

  “Shoot!” Vivian grumbled. “House?”

  “Massive.”

  “Landscape?”

  Sienna looked around. “A photographer’s dream.”

  “You see? I told you family obligations are highly overrated.”

  “Viv, your sister was having a baby and you were the coach,” Sienna reminded her.

  “It’s not like it was her first,” Vivian groused before laughing at her own joke.

  “You are too funny. By the way, did she have a boy or girl?”

  “Boy.”

  “That’s fantastic. Tell her I said congratulations. She’s got to be thrilled to have a boy after three girls.”

  “Trust me my brother-in-law is beside himself with joy. He’ll still be outnumbered, but at least there’ll be another man in the house to get yelled at for leaving the seat up.”

  Sienna could believe it. “When does his plane land?”

  “In another four hours. My sister has decreed that it’s the last business trip he’s going on so close to her due date.”

  Sienna visibly shuddered. “She’s seriously thinking about another one? Four isn’t enough?”

  “Who knows. Take a picture from your phone for me.”

  “I’ll try. I may not be able to zoom out that far. I’ll probably have to paddle a boat over to the nearest island to take one.”

  “An island? Oh, I’m so jealous,” Vivian lamented. “Have fun and I’ll send you a photo of the little man later.”

  “Deal,” Sienna promised before hanging up.

  “Finally.” Sherry loomed over her. “We need another body in the outfield. Come on, you’ve been drafted.”

  She dropped her phone in her bag and stood up. “I, uh…I’m not that good at sports.”

  “You’ll do fine. The balls never get that far, anyway,” Sherry informed her. Looping her arm through Sienna’s, she dragged her along. She eyed the bag slung over Sienna’s shoulder. “My instincts tell me there are extra clothes in there so let’s go get you changed.”

  When they were done Sienna walked out of the lower level French doors. After her wardrobe change she’d re-checked her bun to ensure no errant hair had escaped. She’d swapped her eyeglasses for prescription sunglasses. Gingerly, Sienna lowered a baseball cap into place.

  “Okay, you’re up.” One of Sherry’s assistants came up to greet her. “I’ll keep your bag for you.”

  “Thanks,” Sienna replied holding her stomach. She took several deep breaths to quell the queasy feeling. “I hope I do okay. Sports aren’t exactly my forte.”

  When she looked up she was alone. Sherry’s assistant was already gone. “Great. I’m standing here talking to myself. How lame is that?”

  Moments later, Sienna sidled up to a crowd of people by the canopied seating that passed as the dugout. “Fantastic, you’re here. Come on, we’re getting creamed out there. We have to pow-wow,” a man standing next to Sherry said.

  He glanced toward Sienna. “You any good?”

  “Um, not really. The last time I played anything ending in b-a-l-l was in high school.”

  “Okay, you’ll be playing outfield.”

  After a few more deliberations the small team dispersed.

  Another teammate handed Sienna a glove. “Break a leg.”

  “Thanks?” She forced herself to smile despite the sweat forming at the nape of her neck. I can do this. No big deal.

  Sienna did well in the outfield. She only had to go after one ball. She’d surprised herself when she ran for it, grabbed it and lobbed it toward third base. She’d jumped for joy when the man running to third base at break-neck speed was pronounced out. With more confidence than when she’d started, Sienna swaggered toward home plate as the opposing team headed toward the open field.

  “You’re doing great, Sienna,” Sherry proclaimed.

  Her teammates readily agreed.

  Sienna’s face lit up. “Thanks. I’m feeling pretty good. This is a lot of fun.”

  She cheered her team on and clapped at each point they gained. When they struck out she’d clap anyway to encourage the next player to the mound. She was still clapping when someone called out that she was up.

  “It’s…my turn? So soon?”

  “Yep. Batter up, Lambert.”

  “Just take a deep breath and swing,” someone called after her.

  “Don’t choke,” another person yelled out.

  Rule number four: Always impress the clients and potential clients by appearing outgoing and fun. With that mantra ringing in her ears, Sienna headed for the plate.

  Later that afternoon on the makeshift baseball diamond, Sienna discovered two things about herself: The first was that she could enjoy a spur of the moment activity as much as a well-planned one. The second, that she wasn’t as adverse to sports as she had imagined. Each time her bat connected with the baseball it sent a surge of adrenaline through her, especially when she actually hit the thing.

  “Head’s up, Lambert.”

  Swinging, she hit the ball with a loud crack. Dropping the bat, she took off toward first base. As she ran past each base, Sienna could hear the cheers of encouragement from the crowd. I can definitely get used to this, she mused.

  When it was her team’s turn to hit the outfield, Sienna was stopped short by the self-appointed captain of their team. “Lambert, you take third base.”

  “Okay.” Nervously, she headed toward it. This would be her first foray covering a base.

  Before she knew it her team was down by four runs. Her mouth was dry and her feet ached, but she wasn’t about to give up. She’d bonded over the last hour with the people on her team and there was no way they weren’t going to win this thing.

  Another player stepped up to home plate with bat in hand. The heat outside combined with her anxiety caused her to sweat. Sienna was wiping her perspiration soaked shirt against her eyes when she heard the loud thwack. The batter threw his bat to the ground and jetted toward first base.

  “Look lively,” her teammate yelled from second base. “It’s coming your way.”

  Tilting her head up, Sienna tried to keep her eye on the ball. The sun was making the job difficult. Blinking rapidly, she moved back and forth across the grass in an effort to catch the ball. There it is, she said to herself. She raised her glove and calculated when the ball would drop into it. Peripherally, she could see a man bearing down on her position, his team cheering him on. Excitement made her heady. There was no way he would make it to third base before she caught the ball. He’d be out. She would make sure of it. Her face was scrunched in concentration. Get the ball, get the ball.

  Voices were shouting at her to get the man out. “I got it,” she cried out. Several seconds later, the ball plopped heavily into Sienna’s glove. Two seconds after that her world went pitch black.

  Chapter Three

  The Wrong Idea

  “Sienna? Sienna, can you hear me? You’ve got to wake up,” Sherry said, worriedly.

  “We found smelling salts. Let’s try these,” another person replied.

  Vaughn Deveraux quirked an eyebrow. “Smelling salts? They still make those?” He held out his hand. “Okay, let’s give it a shot.”

  Sherry was crouched right next to him. “You think those will work?”

  “We’re going to find out.”

  Vaughn waved the bottle under Sienna’s nose with slow, deliberate movements. Her body jerked sharply. Her head turned side to side before she sputtered and her eyes popped open.

  Vaughn watched her blink a few times. He was sure she was trying to focus.

  She turned her head toward him. He smiled reassuringly into her confused face before he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Welcome back.” He watched as various emotions crossed her face. She
glanced around. Eventually, her gaze traveled back to him.

  “Who are you? Why am I on the ground?”

  “I’m the guy that just barreled into you while sliding into third base.” Vaughn was concerned about her, but he was a tad bit annoyed that she had blocked his running line.

  “Oh,” came her whispered reply.

  “Let’s help you up.”

  “Do you think we should move her?” Sherry glanced at Sienna. “Maybe we should call an ambulance.”

  “I’m fine, see?” she stood up to prove the point. Immediately Vaughn noticed the color in her face drain away. When she swayed, he moved his arms to grasp her shoulders. “Steady, I got you.” He looked down at her. “I think we should get you looked at.”

  “No need,” Sienna spoke up quickly. “I just got the wind knocked out of me that’s all. I’m perfectly fine.”

  Vaughn’s gazed flickered over her body. Her shorts had grass stains in various places, there was a cut on her right knee and her once neat bun was hanging haphazardly down the nape of her neck. Now that she was upright, he noticed she was almost eye level with him. With a teasing grin he winked at her. “That you are.”

  “Is everything okay here?” someone called from a distance. Every head turned to see the Dexter brothers approaching with an entourage of people in tow.

  The throng of onlookers parted immediately to let them through.

  “Sienna’s had a bit of a tumble,” Sherry assured everyone. “She’ll be fine, though we should probably let her rest a bit.”

  A photographer started snapping pictures. A reporter came to the forefront.

  “Sienna? I didn’t get your last name.”

  Instinctively, Sienna turned her head toward Vaughn’s chest. Uh-uh, she said to herself. There was no way she was going on record looking like a bleeding, bedraggled mess.

  Without being asked to Vaughn eased her closer to his side and away from the curious journalist.

  “Sherry, you can take her inside to get freshened up,” Eduardo replied ushering them toward the house.

  It figures, Sienna groaned to herself. The first time I meet Eduardo Dexter face-to-face and I look like a science experiment. “Thank you Mr. Dexter,” Sienna replied, sheepishly.

  The older man folded her arm through his and took off toward the house. “Nonsense, young lady it was truly my pleasure. Sienna noted during his speech earlier that he was as charming and good looking as his brother. Up close and personal, his appeal drew you in like a well-placed magnet.

  “Now if you need anything Dr. Lambert, you just alert my staff and they’ll take care of you. If they don’t, you come get me.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be just fine Mr. Dexter.”

  “Mr. Dexter’s my older brother,” Eduardo teased. “I think we’ll save all that formality for him.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Sienna noticed the reporter scribbling furiously on his note pad. She put some effort into the daggers she glared at him, but considering her appearance she didn’t doubt the intimidation she was going for fell way short of the mark.

  Sienna checked herself in the mirror one final time. It had taken forty minutes to shower and repair the damage to her hair, but she felt better.

  Placing her grimy clothes back into her duffle bag, Sienna straightened up the bathroom. The housekeeper had told her where to find the laundry chute to drop her towels. A laundry chute? Sienna had to laugh. She had never used one before and took great delight in lowering the used towels into the small compartment and seeing them slide out of view. “Now that’s cool.”

  She returned to the bedroom she had used and gave it a once over to make sure she hadn’t left anything out of place. Confident that everything was tidy, she returned to the lower level family room.

  She wasn’t surprised to see Sherry sitting there waiting. The shock came in seeing the man she’d collided with seated next to her.

  “There you are,” Sherry stood and walked over to Sienna. “You look none the worse for wear and tear.”

  “Isn’t it amazing what a shower can do?” she joked.

  “We’re having a water slide race in a few minutes. I’m going to be one of the referees. I just wanted to be sure you were doing okay. Catch up to you later?”

  “Sure. Thanks for everything.”

  After Sherry left, Vaughn’s gaze returned to Sienna.

  “She’s right. You don’t look like you’ve been through anything more traumatic than a paddle boat ride.”

  She laughed. “Looks can be deceiving,” she extended her right hand. “I’m Sienna Lambert. Thank you for helping me, Mr?”

  He grasped her hand in his. “Deveraux. Vaughn Deveraux.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Deveraux.”

  “Call me Vaughn. The feeling is mutual though I’m sure you’d have preferred it be under less strenuous circumstances.”

  “Actually, I found out for the first time today that I don’t mind baseball.”

  He released her hand. “That’s good to hear, but make sure you watch your back. As you can see it can get physical sometimes.”

  “True. I forgot to ask, did I get you out?”

  “Uh—”

  Something about his expression tipped her off. She eyed him with amusement. “Yes,” she almost yelled. She winced at the instant throbbing in her head. “I knew it!” she said, lowering her voice. “I got you out. You can’t even deny it with a straight face.”

  Vaughn laughed in a rich baritone voice that boomed in the quiet room. He ushered them outside into the sunlight. His hand automatically drifted to the small of her back. Snagging an iced tea off a nearby table, Vaughn handed it to Sienna before getting himself one. He found that the urge to tease her was not something he could resist. “I hate to tell you this, and after you worked so hard, but it was a foul, Sienna. You didn’t get me out.”

  “What?” she said, loudly and then cringed at the pain it caused her. “You mean to tell me I was knocked unconscious, I nearly suffered a concussion and you were safe?” Exasperation tinged her voice. “I can’t believe it.”

  Vaughn eyed her apologetically. “Afraid so. The umpire awarded me the base.”

  She looked confused.

  “The foul is called an obstruction,” he explained. “A fielder can’t block the base from the runner.”

  “I guess they forgot to tell me that rule,” she said, dryly.”

  “Don’t feel bad, you did great,” he winked. “It’s hard to get me out. It’s not something that happens that often.”

  “Oh please,” she retorted as she lowered herself gingerly into a nearby chaise lounge.

  “Would you hold this for a second?” he asked handing her his glass. Vaughn walked over to a nearby seating area to grab a vacant lounger. He sidled it up right next to Sienna sitting sideways on his so that he faced her. “So, what do you do when you’re not taking one for the team?”

  She chuckled at his joke. “I’m a consumer psychologist. Dexter Clothiers is a client of mine.”

  “Really?” he perked up. “Mine, too.”

  “Oh, I thought you were one of the cover models.”

  Surprise registered across his face. “Me? No, I leave the modeling in the very capable hands of my younger brother, Pierce. He’s a retired football player. I’m the creative director at Chase & Burroughs. You know it’s too bad we’re on the campaign. Pierce would’ve made a perfect addition to the line. He has a great deal of experience with women asking questions about his briefs,” he chuckled.

  Sienna shook her head with amusement.

  “Actually, we just found out we got the new line.”

  “Congratulations. I conducted a few focus groups for it.”

  Vaughn leaned closer to her. “I know. We read your reports. You got some great feedback that will be very useful for a few ideas we have, and the groups sounded very interesting.”

  “That is an understatement.” Recalling the interviews Sienna couldn’t help but laugh.


  They chatted genially for quite some time. Each completely engrossed in their conversation. Both discovered they had much in common. In the midst of their banter Vaughn handed Sienna a piece of strawberry cheesecake from a nearby waiter. “I can’t believe we both live in Raleigh and we’ve never met.”

  She didn’t respond until after she’d reverently placed a piece of the chilled dessert in her mouth. She moaned aloud. “That was sinful.”

  Vaughn’s fork clattered loudly on his plate. He cleared his throat.

  Sienna didn’t seem to notice his discomfiture. “I can believe we’ve never met. I work a lot. Most of my time is spent growing my business. If I have any free time I’m usually spending it with family.”

  “Same here,” he said, absentmindedly as his eyes followed the progression of her dessert laden fork to her mouth and back.

  Sienna looked up. Her gaze locked with Vaughn’s. She was the first to look away. “So how’s your campaign for Dexter going?”

  He sat back slightly. “They seemed really impressed with what we pitched to them last week. A few of our teams are still in the late-night-concepting phase on some additional ads, but I’m confident my team will hit a home run when we’re done.

  She rolled her eyes at the pun. He winked.

  Vaughn continued talking about his company’s progress. Sienna’s expression was still attentive so he continued. “We’ve got an idea for one commercial where this guy is wearing Best Kept Secrets. He’s trying all sorts of things with them on. He’s jogging, skiing, dancing and a few other activities. Then he sits down on this chair and after a few seconds a wide grin slowly comes across his face. Then a caption pops up on the screen. “Best Kept Secrets. You gotta SEAT to believe it.”

  While he was talking, a look briefly crossed Sienna’s face. He went silent.

  “What?”

  Sienna shook her head. “Nothing.”

  Vaughn eyed her perceptively. “You don’t like it?”

  “Uh…it’s not that I don’t like it—per se.”

 

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