Chapter 8
“That breeze from the water. I need more of it.” Zoe fanned her neck with her hand as she turned toward the Potomac River
to catch the currents of air coming from it.
Today was slightly cooler than yesterday, but not by much. She’d spent the afternoon in her apartment trying on different
outfits in front of her cat, Mr. Bobbins. What does someone wear to catch up with an old friend who was also offering her
a job of a lifetime? She’d settled on a long, light dress with pockets.
“Let’s eat by the water,” Derek said, and pointed to an empty bench on the waterfront.
Zoe mostly came here for concerts and when she stopped by her friend’s photography studio. Without the busy weekend crowds,
the Wharf held a magical energy. Outdoor booths were shuttered for the day but their strings of lights gave them a soft glow.
Most of the restaurants were closed or closing when they arrived, so they’d ordered takeout.
“Tell me about your boutique,” he said as they settled down for an impromptu al fresco dinner.
“Something Cheeky was voted the DMV’s best lingerie boutique. Two years running,” Zoe said with pride.
Derek’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“DMV is what we locals call the DC metro area. DC, Maryland, and Virgina,” she explained. “You’re going to hear it a ton while you’re here.”
“That makes way more sense. How does it feel to create something that’s all yours?” he asked.
Had she heard a tinge of envy in his voice?
“Something Cheeky saved me after what happened during senior year.” She bit her lip and shook her head to rid herself of the
feelings those memories brought up. “I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished.”
Zoe’s professor hadn’t left her with any other option but to quit theater. Removing herself from the situation entirely had
been the only way to escape the controlling and power-hungry man.
“You should stop by for a tour. My workroom is ten times swankier than our college costume shop.”
“Anything is an improvement over that basement.”
“No windows and it was freezing from November through April.” Zoe shivered and frowned in surprise. Her body hadn’t forgotten.
“It’s really hard to sew when you’re wearing your winter coat and gloves.”
“All that lake effect snow piling higher and higher after the plows came through?” He shuddered. “It gets cold in New York
City but not like in Syracuse.”
“Remember our first Halloween at CNY College? It snowed so hard I could barely see in front of me!”
“Don’t remind me. We went to the party dressed as Mulan-Ping and Li Shang as a romantic couple. And I got trashed.” He shook
his head disapprovingly at his younger self.
“You also dared me to find our way back to our dorm in the snow.” Zoe barely knew her way around Syracuse during her first
semester in school. Derek didn’t either, even though he’d grown up in a small rural town thirty miles away.
“Like I said, I was drunk,” he reminded her. “You didn’t have to accept the challenge.”
“You knew I can’t resist a dare. I got us back, didn’t I?”
She wasn’t sure how the habit of daring each other to do things started, but she could never turn down a dare from him. Growing
up with an older brother and several older cousins had given her a competitive streak.
“Via the most roundabout way ever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “What if we’d gotten frostbite?”
“So dramatic. If it weren’t for me, you would’ve puked in the dorm stairwell and not in a random snowbank. I saved you the
hundred-dollar cleaning fee.” Zoe tossed him a smug smile.
“You win,” he conceded. “Again.”
“I always win.” She didn’t bother hiding her smirk.
“It’s rude to gloat.”
“Remember that the next time you do it,” she teased, poking his arm.
Derek chewed on his bottom lip, a sign that he was overthinking something. She used to tell him girls fell for that nerdy,
thoughtful look. But for some reason she didn’t say it today. He’d forgiven her for ghosting him, but she wasn’t sure if they
were back to teasing each other about their love lives yet.
“How did it go last night?” Zoe changed the subject right as Derek shoved a pork belly taco into his mouth. Ever since Derek
brought up the musical yesterday, she’d thought about it nonstop.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. He chewed quickly and swallowed before adding, “Oh, this is so good.”
He gestured for her to taste hers. She unwrapped her takeout order. Her stomach grumbled as the smoky, spicy smells hit her
nose. They’d arrived at the Wharf right when everything was closing. On a Sunday night, their only remaining choices were
either tacos or greasy burgers.
“I’m having regrets about not getting those.” He pointed to her bulgogi with kimchi tacos. “I got these pork belly ones last night and couldn’t stop thinking about them.”
Zoe picked up one of her overflowing corn tortillas, but she couldn’t take a bite. A nervous energy skated over her body like
some sort of shield. Her brain needed more information to process instead of the crumb Derek had dropped in the boba café.
As much as she loved her boutique, a tiny part of her missed the creative chaos of a stage musical. It was magical how a group
of people took words from a page and turned them into a beautiful, emotional production for complete strangers. Designing
lingerie didn’t fulfill her creative well in the same way.
“You okay?” Derek’s face was shadowed with concern. “Eat. You won’t regret it.”
“Last night’s meeting was about the show, right?” she tried again. Zoe’s stomach did a tiny flip. She was afraid to say “Vietnamese
musical” aloud as to not give it too much hope. She had no idea how far along in the process he was.
“This musical is going to blast the doors wide open for us.” He threw his hands out. “ T ? m Cám will change theater for all Asian Americans. Imagine our stories as part of household conversations.”
Zoe bit her lip. It all sounded too good to be true.
“But I can’t do this without you.” He grabbed her hand. His eyes blazed with excitement. “Please tell me you’ll design the
costumes for T ? m Cam . I need you, Zoe.”
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 with T ? m Cám costume 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.”
She nodded. Of course she understood his fear. They’d dealt with similar concerns during college and their summer theater
gigs.
“But they loved the three songs we performed for them.” He smiled broadly. “They wanted a complete first draft before investing
in a full production. That took us several more months, but it’s official. We’ve signed an agreement for Prestige Rep to produce
it.”
“Derek, I’m so proud of you!”
Zoe threw her arms around him. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes as her body relaxed
against his warm, muscular chest. The anxiety and nervousness from earlier completely disappeared.
As she breathed in his familiar scent, a tingle spread through her body. The kind that she didn’t associate with Derek.
Zoe pulled away as quickly as she’d gone in for the hug. Her cheeks burned. In her excitement over his success, she’d wrinkled
the boundaries they’d agreed on freshman year: friends only.
She cleared her throat. What the hell was she doing thinking about him in that way?