Chapter 9
“Thank you. We worked hard to get here,” Derek said. He crumpled up his now-empty wrappers to avoid eye contact with her.
Whatever that moment was, it ended too soon. For years, he’d longed to hold her close. To inhale her lilac perfume mixed with
her warm, sweet scent and finally confess his love for her. But she’d pulled away as if she’d been burned.
“So what happens next?” Zoe asked a little too brightly. Her cheeks were pink and she shifted on the bench.
He took a deep breath to clear the roller coaster of emotions he’d gone through in less than a minute. Remember the plan. Musical first, then personal. A light breeze cooled the flush from his face as he met Zoe’s gaze.
“We have about six weeks until previews start. Six weeks until a real live stage musical of T ? m Cam .”
“No way,” she whispered.
“Greg Powers—that’s the artistic director—agreed that we should do our best to form an all-Asian cast and creative team. He
fully supports my vision.”
“All-Asian show,” she responded in disbelief.
“I’ve pinched myself every morning since I arrived in DC. We’re set to open in May.”
The waves broke against the pier as if applauding his monumental achievement.
“So will you do it?” Derek asked quietly. He knew it wouldn’t be personal if she turned down his offer. He wanted to be the reason she agreed to work with him.
“Why me when you can have your pick of New York folks to design your costumes? Or even big-name Asian American fashion designers.”
“Because it’s our dream, Zoe.”
“It was our dream and only that,” she reminded him.
“You are a big-name designer,” he added. “You’ve won awards.”
“For lingerie. In the DMV.” Zoe crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair, creating distance between them. “I haven’t
done any costume design since college. I don’t want to be the weakest link on your team.”
“Designing lingerie is even harder than costumes. Not only that, but you’ve created clothing that people want to wear. Some
people don’t even want to take it off during sex!”
“You read my Yelp reviews?” Her eyes widened in surprise but a tiny smile crept to her lips.
He nodded. “I did my research.”
“My favorite one-star review is the person who complained that my plus-size shop didn’t carry anything smaller than an extra-large.”
Zoe rolled her eyes.
“Would you do it if I promise to help you however you need? Though you don’t want me near a sewing machine,” he added, referring
to his disastrous attempt to learn to sew during his freshman-year tech rotation.
Derek was lucky that their costume shop foreperson allowed him to even use a seam ripper after he almost set a machine on
fire.
“You stay away from my babies!” Zoe warned. She hadn’t forgotten that incident either. “And no touching my fabric shears.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t have a death wish,” he added.
He’d missed this energy between them. He’d missed Zoe. He couldn’t think of a better excuse to see her every day than working on their musical together. Eventually, he’d find the right time to tell her how he felt.
“I don’t know,” Zoe said after their laughter subsided. “I’ve put off launching my Viet-inspired formal collection long enough.”
“Think of the possibilities. The recognition you’ll get by designing costumes for the first musical to have an all-Asian cast
and creative team. You’ll get lots of love here as a local. If we make it to Broadway, this show will get you national recognition
for your upcoming fashion line.”
She gave a noncommittal huff.
“We’re inviting all the famous Asian celebrities to previews and opening night. Can you imagine meeting Phillipa Soo or Kelly
Marie Tran or Michelle Yeoh and how they could flaunt your designs on their next red carpet event?”
He was laying it on thick, but he’d already imagined himself greeting half the Asian who’s who in New York and Hollywood.
This was the show that would change both of their lives.
“Those are a lot of if s.” Zoe dragged her shoe across the ground.
“Dream big, Z. I’ve kept our vision alive for both of us until you were ready to dive back in. Here’s your chance.”
“It would be fun to finally turn our fantasy into real life.” Zoe pursed her lips thoughtfully.
She was wavering. Derek almost had her. She’d always loved the challenge of designing for the stage back in college.
“Dip your toes back into my world. Nothing says you have to stay. Just one show, then you can focus on your shop,” he pleaded.
He didn’t care if he sounded needy.
“Derek, I—”
“Zoe, we came up with the idea together. You and me, we’re going to change the world.” He swung his arms out dramatically for extra emphasis. The sleeve of his shirt snagged on the straw of his drink, flinging it toward Zoe.
She gasped and tried to block it with her purse, but it was too late. The plastic cup hit both her bag and Zoe. As if to insult
him even further, the lid popped off and rolled away.
Zoe yelped and jumped off the bench. He groaned as his root beer transformed itself into a sweet, dark brown Rorschach mess
on, well, everything. Not only was it all over the ground and bench, but Zoe was soaked. Her dress clung to the curve of her
hips—he forced himself to look away.
“I’m so sorry!” Derek grabbed the flimsy paper napkins from their takeout bag and handed them to her. “Maybe there’s a public
restroom and— Shit.”
He stood up and rubbed his forehead. She’d been seriously considering working with him and he fucking ruined the mood.
“I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry,” he repeated.
“Derek, stop. I’m not hurt.” She grabbed his arm until he looked into her eyes. “It’s only soda.”
“I know, but—” Derek howled as she splashed the remainder of his root beer onto his shirt.
“Got you!” she yelled and backed away so she was out of reach. “Now we’re even.”
“Oh, that’s evil, Z.” He brushed off as much liquid as he could and flung droplets at her.
She squealed as they hit her in the face.
“Pure evil,” he shouted playfully.
The laughter he heard was his. Zoe joined him. Their bodies shook until they collapsed on the bench. Neither cared that root
beer was still dripping off it.
“Zoe?” he said as he tried to catch his breath.
“Yeah?”
“Is that your sketchbook in your bag? I think it got wet.”
“Oh no!” She bolted and yanked her sketchbook out of her bag. The blue cover was soaked.
“I’d offer you my shirt to wipe it up, but someone threw a drink at me.”
“You started it.”
“Here—” He took it from her and used a dry section of his sleeve to dry it off. “I think only the cover got wet.”
He flipped it open to shake out any liquid that hadn’t been absorbed by the paper. Derek’s heart pounded. Instead of lingerie
or fashion sketches, he found something even better.
She’d drawn T ? m in various costumes. The initial one was soft and flowy to mark her naivete but the pieces fell away to reveal a harder,
more confident woman. The pencil marks were light but drawn with assertive hands.
“Give it back,” Zoe demanded. Her earlier lightness was gone. “That’s private.”
“Your sketches are exactly how I’d imagined the costumes would look.” He blotted the sides of her sketchbook as much as he
could. He ran his thumb across the edges of the pages. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from flipping through the
rest of it. He held the sketchbook open to the drawing that had taken his breath away.
“Those were just for fun. To practice my drawing skills,” Zoe replied with a forced smile.
He caught a hint of wistfulness underneath her superficial brightness.
“You never stopped dreaming about T ? m Cám either,” he whispered. That meant she hadn’t forgotten about him all this time.
“I—I haven’t,” Zoe admitted. Her eyes went soft and unfocused. Was she remembering those nights on the roof when they cast
their dream show?
“Z, will you do this with me, please?” He immediately regretted his tone. Desperation wasn’t a good look for anyone. His hands clenched around her sketchbook as he forced himself to breathe slowly.
Her eyes narrowed as she considered his request yet again. His stomach twisted. She was going to turn him down and this time
she wouldn’t change her mind.
“I’d have to postpone my formal wear collection if I did this. Can I think about it?”
She stuck her hand out for her sketchbook. He gave it back to her, but he couldn’t erase her drawings from his mind. It was
as if she had a direct link to his brain.
“You only came back into my life yesterday. I can’t make a major decision in twenty-four hours.” She held the book against
her chest but remembered her clothes were soaked. Zoe tucked it back into her bag.
“I’m sorry. That’s not fair of me.” He stared at his shoes, which thankfully were still dry. “I panicked.”
What he really meant to say was Don’t walk out of my life again. That would definitely scare her away for good.