Page 103 of Something Cheeky

“I’m your mentor. You can admit it to me.” The man’s smile was almost predator-like.

“I told you. I have a plan.” Derek gritted his teeth. He was almost too exhausted to repeat himself so that Gregzilla actually heard his words. But he would if he had to.

“Of course. But if you can’t pull this show together by tech, it’ll reflect badly on me. I put my reputation on the line for you because I believed in your vision, Derek. What will I tell the board if you fail?” Greg ran his thumb across the bottom edge of his notepad.

“That’s not going to happen,” Derek said unconvincingly. His sleep deprivation made it challenging to keep his defenses up against his mentor.

“If you can’t make this show look good before we start tech, then I’ll take over as director.”

“You’ll do what?” Derek wanted to punch the smirk off Greg’s face. “Has this been your plan all along?”

“Why would I do that? I’m offering to save your ass.” The man’s blue eyes grew hard.

“I’ve worked too hard for you to take this from me. I’ll do whatever it takes.” Derek despised the desperation in his voice.

“I’m glad to hear that because I have some ideas.” Greg picked up his notepad and flipped it open.

Derek wanted to burn that notepad full of Greg’s stupid suggestions. Acting irrationally now would only prove Greg’s point.

“I have one major note after the stumble through: too much Vietnamese.” The man pronounced it with an extra syllable: vee-et-nam-ese. “Audiences will be confused. How can they fall in love with the musical if they don’t understand it?”

Derek’s eyes twitched but at least that meant he could keep them open.

“I disagree.”

“You need to,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard Derek, “change all the Vietnamese dialogueandall the Vietnamese in the songs to English.”

“How am I supposed to find time to do that when you moved up opening night?” Derek threw his hands up in frustration.

“If you’d taken my advice and wrote everything in English the first time, you wouldn’t have this problem. We need this show to make money and right now ticket sales are almost nonexistent. And Vietnamese songs won’t sell to anyone else but Vietnamese people. Unless you know a millionaire who’s Vietnamese and wants to become a producer?”

Unable to come up with a retort, Derek shook his head. Deep down, he’d had doubts about the all Viet numbers but chalked them up to being unable to understand their nuances. Th?o had her heart set on them and he’d been happy to give her creative control for the songs.

“If you want to remain the director ofThe Brocaded Slipper, you’ll need to take my advice.” Greg grinned. “That’s so much easier to say. You took my advice about the title, so now just take it for the rest of the musical.”

Derek sighed. If Greg took over the show, he’d absolutely ruin it. Or what if it was a hit? That would be even worse. Greg would take credit for everything. Derek would rather make concessions than have the show taken away from him.

“I’ll change the songs. But not the dialogue.” He hoped his concession was enough to appease the man.

Greg raised an eyebrow as he considered the counteroffer. Derek’s stomach sank as the silence stretched.

“Dialogue, too. For the good of the production.” Greg stood up and tucked his notepad into his shirt pocket. He offered a handshake. “Can you have everything rewritten for tomorrow’s rehearsal?”

“I’ll do my best,” Derek said dejectedly as he shook the executive director’s hand. Greg had shoved him in a corner and this was the only way out.

“See you tomorrow at ten then.” Greg smiled smugly. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

The man patted Derek on the back and left.

Derek’s skin burned where Greg had touched him. His stomach threatened to empty its contents. That man had never been his mentor. He was a bully who’d only used Derek to make himself feel bigger and more important. Deep down he’d known that but Greg had given him so many opportunities that Derek never thought he would be bullied, too.

“What the fuck, Derek?” Th?o stood in the doorway with her fists clenched by her sides. Betrayal shadowed on her face.

Derek cringed. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to learn that you’re undoing all of my hard work, especially that duet. That song is my favorite.” Her voice wavered as if she might cry.

“I had to.”

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