Page 17 of Something Cheeky

The confidence Derek exuded now was different from back then. Was it because he wanted to change a system that wasn’t created for them? Or was he hiding something?

She didn’t know how to respond. Her stomach twisted. The idea of returning to theater excited and terrified her equally.

“I—I can’t,” she finally blurted. “I gave up that dream a long time ago.”

And it hurt. She swallowed the words, but the regret caught in her throat. Regret that she’d allowed their professor to make her choose between her career and her morals. But her professor had been right. She didn’t have what it took to make it in theater. Not if it meant compromising her values.

“What can I do to change your mind?”

“Nothing.” She forced a wide smile to hide her uncertainty. “I’m happy with my boutique.”

“Liar.” His tone was light but it struck her hard.

She withdrew her hand and turned toward the water, where the boats at the marina swayed gently. He knew her too well. Both the good and the bad memories she’d didn’t want to rehash.

“I’m not our professor. I’m not an old white man with tenure who cares only about what the donors want.”

“I’ve moved on from that,” she declared. If she repeated it enough, then she’d start to believe it. “I refuse to leave my fate in the hands of others. With my boutique, I’m in control of my career.”

Derek sighed loudly and pressed his lips together.

“We should eat while the tacos are still hot,” she said. She unwrapped her food loudly, as if it could drown out the disappointment emanating from him. Finally, she took a bite. The bold flavors were a welcome distraction from her mixed emotions. “Oh my God, this is amazing.”

“Told you,” Derek gloated.

“We should come back here and try out the full menu,” she suggested, relieved that he had dropped his request.

The next few minutes were quiet as they savored their food. In any other circumstances, eating on a bench with a view of the Wharf would be romantic. She couldn’t help but notice how the moonlight accentuated his strong, angular jaw and full lips. But this was Derek, her college best friend, and they were here to discuss his work.

What if this was her only opportunity for a do-over? Her fellow Boss Babes would berate her if she turned down the chance of a lifetime without at least hearing him out.

Zoe thought about her secret sketchbooks filled withT?m Cámcostume designs. She’d told herself they were only studies to keep her creative and drawing skills honed. Each set was drawn in a different style and genre, from Elizabethan to full-on Vietnamese traditional clothing. But she’d never imagined the story as a rock musical until running into Derek yesterday.

On the drive back home she’d mentally designed Viet-inspired rock costumes in her head. Zoe couldn’t remember the last time her imagination had yelled so loudly for her to sketch out her ideas.

Maybe she missed theater. Just a little, tiny bit. Zoe swallowed her last bite of food and looked him in the eye.

“Okay, tell me more.”

“Really?” Derek almost dropped his food. “You just said you were happy with your boutique.”

“Don’t make me change my mind,” Zoe teased. “It’s not fair for me to turn you down without hearing you out.”

He nodded and finished his final taco in two bites. He chewed faster and faster and groaned in delight. The man still appreciated food no matter the cuisine.

“Slow down!” She laughed. “I promised to hear you out so don’t speed run your dinner. One of us choking on our food this weekend is plenty.”

He chuckled as his jaw visibly slowed down. Finally, Derek washed down his food with his soda. He took a deep breath.

“Th?o and I have been working on the musical on and off for a year now. She’s my cowriter and composer. A few months ago, we came down and performed a private workshop for Prestige Rep’s artistic director, executive producer, and a few of their board members.”

“Wait, you were here once already and didn’t tell me?” Zoe frowned. No, she wasn’t allowed to be hurt that he didn’t contact her. After all, she was the one who stopped texting him in the first place. He owed her nothing.

“I was afraid to tell anyone about it. You know, in case we bombed.” Derek gave her an apologetic look. “I wasn’t even here for twenty-four hours.”

“But they loved it, right?” Zoe sat up straighter. Her body was tense in anticipation.

“It was the first time we’d shared the songs with anyone besides Greg, the artistic director. I was terrified they wouldn’t get it. Or say it was too Asian to be marketable.”

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