Page 44 of Something Cheeky

“Same. Theater can be hard, but it’s not life or death.”

Maybe not for him. But a part of her had died when she quit theater only months away from graduation. This musical was her second chance and she was doing it her way. Not how someone thought her costumes were supposed to look.

“Are you making fried rice?” Zoe asked as she handed him the bottles.

He’d created a mise en place of different leftovers he’d rescued from her fridge. She spotted the slightly wilted bell peppers she’d bought for a salad and dried shiitake mushrooms rehydrating in a bowl of water. There was also a container of old rice that her mom had given her a few days ago.

“With fancy canned tuna. Thought I’d stick with our attempted Italian theme even though our delivery never showed up.”

“I’ve never had fried rice with tuna before.” A client had gifted her Italian canned tuna from her trip to Europe. Zoe had stuck it in the cabinet because it felt too fancy to use for a sandwich, which was the most creative way she knew how to prepare it.

“I figure if it’s good enough for Mr. Bobbins, then it’s good enough for us.” Derek waved toward the living room, where the cat was sitting.

“Wait.” Zoe glanced at Mr. Bobbins and back to Derek. She ran to the trash can and dug out an empty tin. “Did you give my cat tuna with olive oil?”

“Yes, because that’s what you told me to do.” He pointed to the counter where she’d set up Mr. Bobbins’s prep station.

“No, I said this tuna right here.” She opened up the cabinet next to the one he’d pointed at. She pulled out a small stack of store-brand tuna. “Olive oil makes cats throw up. I only feed him tuna in water.”

“Oh, shit.” Derek’s playful tone completely disappeared. His forehead wrinkled with worry and he covered his mouth with his hand. “I thought you pointed to the other cabinet. Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t think it’s super serious. I’ll call the vet tom—” She turned back to the living room to find Mr. Bobbins sitting on top of her sketches. He looked her right in the eyes before vomiting tuna and olive oil all over them.

“No, Mr. Bobbins! No!” Zoe waved her arms as she ran back into her living room. It wasn’t as if she could stop him from throwing up. The tabby jumped off the coffee table and ran into her room. Now she’d scared the poor cat when he was feeling ill.

“Zoe, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.”

“They’re ruined! And it’s too late to get more copies made and buy more foam board.” Zoe’s voice cracked.

All the work she’d put into making the presentation perfect was undone. The past two weeks of stress and long hours had finally caught up with her. Her eyes burned as tears threatened to spill, but she hated crying in front of others, so she forced herself to blink rapidly to keep them at bay.

Derek turned off the stove and quickly ran over to her. He gently eased her onto the couch and sat down next to her. She leaned into him as he rubbed her back.

“We’ll get up early and replace them. Or maybe there’s a twenty-four-hour copy center nearby.”

“Why did I think I could pull this off?” Zoe muttered. The tightness in her chest made it hard to breathe. “I should let TJ do all the talking tomorrow. He’s great in front of people.”

“TJ is a wonderful, vibrant person, but these costumes are your creations. You have to be the person to present them tomorrow.”

“I’m better at talking to people one-on-one. Like the woman I helped find a strapless bra.”

“Well, then I’ll sit next to you. You can pretend I’m your customer,” Derek offered.

An image of him in a frilly nightgown popped into her head. She giggled. Her shoulders relaxed slightly as her panic subsided.

“Come on, I’d look great wearing a negligee from Something Cheeky. As long as it was all black, obviously.”

“We do carry a lot of black negligees. You don’t strike me as a lace type person.”

“Maybe not, but I’d look fetching in a murder robe.” He tossed his imaginary waist length hair. “Can you make me one?”

Zoe barked out a laugh. Derek was a pro at cheering her up. He was good at bringing the best out of people, period. Which was probably why he’d found so much success as a director.

“You look better already.” He squeezed her hands. “Now take a few deep breaths with me.”

Zoe nodded as she followed his lead. She held on to his hands as if her life depended on it and closed her eyes. She inhaled through her nose and then exhaled through her mouth. He guided her through several more breaths until she relaxed her grip on his hands. But she wasn’t ready to let go.

“Good girl.” He nodded encouragingly. “Now look at me.”

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