Chapter 41
Derek arrived at Prestige at eight in the morning. He still had a spring in his step from the love note Zoe had left in his
apartment. He missed waking up with Zoe in his bed, but it was the first night in weeks that he’d slept for more than a handful
of hours.
The situation didn’t feel as catastrophic once the sun rose. It turned out getting eight full hours of sleep was good for
him. He probably didn’t need the coffee he’d bought for himself and Th ? o. He still hadn’t figured out how make the new opening night date work, but at least he now had energy to work it out.
Music echoed into the hallway leading to the rehearsal room. Of course Th ? o was already at the keyboard working her ass off to finish the rest of the songs while he’d fallen into bed with Zoe. He
knocked on the door so as not to surprise her.
“Well, look who decided to show up.” Th ? o played the opening bars to “Good for You” from Dear Evan Hansen to match her sarcasm.
“I bring a peace offering.” He held up the cardboard tray with his coffee and a macchiato, her favorite. A takeout bag with
breakfast burritos were snuggled in between the drinks.
“You’re bribing me with breakfast?”
“Is it working?” He waved the food under her nose. The smell of the cheese and sausage made his stomach grumble hungrily.
“Maybe,” she said sternly, but a corner of her mouth quirked into a tiny grin. She grabbed her coffee and waved for him to join her at the stage manager’s table.
“I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk,” he said sincerely.
He’d spread himself too thin trying to make sure Zoe and his creative team felt supported. Everyone except for Th ? o. They were too close to getting what they wanted to ruin it because he couldn’t admit that he’d let her down.
Th ? o unwrapped the burrito and inhaled deeply.
“Oh my God. Is this from the taco place by the Wharf?” She closed her eyes and took another deep breath before taking a huge
bite.
He nodded.
“You’re right. I’ve been hovering around Zoe too much. I need to trust her to do her job,” he admitted.
Deep down he was still worried that she’d break down the same way she had in college. But she’d handled everything with finesse,
even Greg.
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that? I was chewing too loudly.”
“I need to trust her to do her job,” he repeated.
“No, the first part.”
He laughed. “You were right, Th ? o.”
“Music to my ears.” She danced in her chair. “You should eat before your food gets cold.”
She pushed out the folding metal chair with her shoe and patted the seat next to her. Derek breathed out in relief. Th ? o had forgiven him.
The two of them ate in a comfortable silence that was only broken by murmurs of joy about their food.
“So, you’ve been coming here every morning at eight?” he asked after they finished eating.
She nodded.
“You hate mornings.” For as long as he’d known her, she’d had to set multiple alarms just to wake up at ten o’clock. Arriving here that early meant her waking up well before eight.
“We have to make sacrifices for things we love,” she said quietly.
He’d heard the and friends she omitted from her declaration. Hopefully she and Katie Mai could work things out soon.
“I’ve been a shit friend. It’s time for me to sacrifice some sleep and time with Zoe so we can make this the best musical
ever.”
“Yes, please. I’m so tired of Gregzilla and his fucking tiny notebook.” Th ? o groaned. “If he mispronounces T ? m Cám one more time...”
“I might have PTSD from that notebook.” Derek mimed the blond man thumbing through it.
They belly laughed. Finally they were vibing with each other again.
“So what’s the game plan, boss?” Th ? o asked.
“Actually, I was thinking we should change the title of the show to The Brocaded Slipper. ”
“You better not be doing that because of Greg.” Th ? o’s eyes narrowed.
“Let me explain.” He held out his hands to stay her anger. “I know this play is for us, but we need it to appeal to a wide
audience. The Brocaded Slipper will help people compare it to Cinderella, and you know people can’t resist a rebooted fairy tale.”
“True. I mean, people love Into the Woods and that’s all the fairy tales tossed into a wok.”
“We’re cooking the baker and his wife now?” he joked.
“You know, I like it. The Brocaded Slipper is how T ? m Cám has been titled in some English translations, so it works.”
“I’m so glad you agree.” He hugged her. “Now let’s finish this Vietnamese duet between the sisters before Greg gets here so
I can inform him of the change. Maybe he lied about things going to the printers already.”
“You mean I write the Vietnamese lyrics and you give feedback,” Th ? o half-joked. “The marketing department is gonna hate you, but it’ll be easier for them to advertise it.”
Derek took a deep breath. His gut told him that this was the right decision, but standing up to Greg took fortitude. He knew
Th ? o, the cast, and the creative team would support him. They trusted him enough to work on this show. It was up to him to ensure
it was a success.
Derek took the stairs two at a time from the upper floor where Greg’s office was down to the costume shop. The elevator was
quicker, but his nervous energy needed an outlet after his meeting with his mentor.
Greg’s gleeful acceptance of the name change stung, even though it was his and Th ? o’s decision. At least there was enough time to redo the program cover and artwork for the API Heritage Month festival.
The hardest part was done. Now he had to tell Zoe. She had been oddly quiet since leaving him alone at his apartment last
night. Maybe she’d been waiting on him, but he’d thrown himself into working on the songs with Th ? o until the cast showed up for rehearsal.
There was chatter combined with the whir of sewing machines emanating from the costume shop’s open double doors. It was louder
than it had been the past week, which made sense due to their shortened timeline.
“Hey, Z,” he called out at the door so he wouldn’t surprise anyone.
Zoe smiled and waved him in quickly before returning to her work. She was hand-sewing trim or some other embellishment on
a costume. The bright red fabric contrasted against her pale green top.
“You look beautiful today—and every day,” he added.
“Thank you.” She smiled as she attached a tiny bead to the costume. “Feeling better today?”
“Can we talk? In private?” He glanced around the room. Was he imagining things or were there more people in here than usual?
“I thought we weren’t doing that anymore.” Zoe’s spine stiffened, but she didn’t look at him.
What an idiot. It was almost three o’clock. The time when they usually—he should’ve known better than to be so cryptic. After Greg walked
in on them, they’d decided to avoid personal displays of affection while inside the theater. So why was she acting so strangely?
“Sorry, I—it’s not that .” He shifted his weight and tried to ignore the heat on his face. “It’s an important update about the show.”
“In that case, sure.” Zoe set down her work and turned around to the worktable behind her. “Shawn, can we use your office
for a quick meeting?”
“All yours,” the shop manager replied with a smile. He was also hand-sewing embellishments.
“Are you okay?” Derek asked as soon as Zoe shut the door. He stopped himself from grabbing her hand. The blinds to the office
windows looking into the shop were open.
“I’m fine.” She sat behind Shawn’s desk and crossed her legs, which were covered in a pair of deliciously snug dark green
jeans. “I should be asking you that. You weren’t so hot when I left last night.”
“You didn’t need to see me like that.” He was supposed to be the one who kept her motivated. Not the other way around. “Sorry
I was such a mess yesterday.”
“Who helped cheer you up after you got drunk because some white kid got cast as the lead instead of you?” she reminded him.
“You’re allowed to have unhappy feelings.”
“I’m no longer unhappy. I got a ton of sleep, the sun came out, and I’m a new man,” he declared. If he said it enough, maybe all the tension in his shoulders would dissipate.
“Oh God, please don’t start singing. You’re too old to play Orphan Annie,” she teased.
“I’m more of a Daddy Warbucks.” Derek sat in the chair opposite her and crossed his arms like an overconfident billionaire.
“Stop it!” She laughed but then turned serious. “What’s going on, Derek? You’ve been on a roller coaster of emotions and I
don’t want you to hit bottom like last night.”
“Th ? o and I worked everything out this morning. We even finished the sisters’ duet.”
“That’s wonderful!”
“We also made a big decision about the show.” Derek’s stomach twisted. He didn’t want her to think that he was giving in to
Greg.
Worry shadowed her face.
“No, it’s nothing bad,” he said quickly. “Th ? o and I have changed the title of the musical to The Brocaded Slipper .”
“Oh.” Her expression was unreadable.
Fuck. She was trying to hide her disappointment.
“Is it because your Vietnamese sucks?” she finally asked.
Derek’s mouth dropped. Was she serious? Of all the reasons for the new title, this hadn’t been on his radar. Wait, there was
a gleam in Zoe’s eyes. She was teasing.
“I had you going!” Zoe giggled. She was adorable when she giggled. He especially enjoyed the way her chest gently shook with
joy. “Thank God you changed it, because if I had to hear Greg mispronounce T ? m Cám one more time, I’d be arrested for assault.”
Derek snorted. “You and Th ? o both.”
“All those lessons I gave you in college—did you remember any of it?”
“I thought I did pretty well the other night.” He winked.
“Besides the pick-up lines.” She rolled her eyes at him, but a blush crept up on her cheeks.
“That’s not fair. I didn’t grow up around a bunch of loud, nosy Vietnamese aunties and uncles so my Vietnamese is limited.”
He stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.
“You’re so cute when you’re offended.” Zoe’s breath hitched. “I miss our three-o’clock quickies.”
“Aha! You miss them, too,” he accused.
Derek met her eyes. They were dark and dilated. Her mouth was slightly open and her cheeks were turning pinker by the second.
Even though they weren’t pressed against each other in the fitting room, their bodies remembered. Suddenly the air grew hot
in the tiny office.
They both looked away. Zoe cleared her throat.
“Rain check later tonight?” she whispered hoarsely. “We still have a lot of work to do out there.”
“Wait—” Derek stared out the office’s window. Every sewing machine was occupied. “Did you hire more sewists? We don’t have
that in the budget.”
He’d stretched their budget more than the producing director had originally allowed. There was no way he could sweet talk
Greg into more over-hires.
“You don’t have to worry about it. Those are my staff from Something Cheeky.” She swelled with pride. “They’re the best.”
“I’m confused. If they’re here, what’s going on at...” He trailed off as his stomach dropped. What had she done? No, no,
no. It couldn’t be.
“I’ve closed down Something Cheeky until opening night and redirected my team here to work on T ? m —I mean The Brocaded Slipper .”
“Zoe, that’s too much. How will you pay them if you close down the boutique for two weeks?” Derek rubbed his forehead. Everything was going wrong again.
“We’re not flush with cash, but I can cover payroll for a few weeks.” She brushed some invisible lint off her jeans.
“I didn’t ask you to come on board to put you on the hook financially. Why don’t we scale back the costumes? Until we get
some more investors on board and hire out the costume construction,” he suggested. He hated how frantic his voice sounded.
“No. I’ve invested too much time, energy, and now money to scale back. This is my chance to design the costumes my way without
some white dude telling me how Asian things are supposed to look.” Zoe white-knuckled the arms on her chair.
“We’re not in college anymore, Zoe. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“That’s not true. We’re proving ourselves every time we walk into Prestige. I don’t care if you want to make this show easier and more palatable for people like Greg.” Zoe stood up. Her face was red and her hands were
balled into fists. “I refuse to hide my voice and my aesthetic.”
Dammit, he wished he could touch her, hold her hand, or even better hug her. But he couldn’t. Their raised voices had caught
the staff’s attention. They quickly looked away when he turned to look out.
“Zoe, I love every single one of your designs. They tell the story as much as the music does.”
She bit her lip but didn’t speak.
“But I won’t have you risk your livelihood for these costumes. You’ve invested years of your life to create a place that helps
women feel beautiful. One musical isn’t worth closing Something Cheeky.”
“That’s not your decision to make, Derek. It’s not one musical but the musical. This is my chance at a do-over and I’m not going to fuck things up again.”
Derek opened his mouth but she shushed him.
“You’re under a lot of stress right now, and I refuse to let my costumes be part of that. Now, if there’s nothing else about
the show you’d like to discuss, I need to get back out there and sew.”
He shook his head, worried that if he pushed back anymore, she might quit. That’s what had happened in college when their
professor gave her an ultimatum about putting the actors in what amounted to yellow face.
Zoe gave him a wide berth as she walked out of the office. There was shuffling as the staff returned to their work, pretending
they hadn’t heard their raised voices.
His phone vibrated. It was a text from Heather. The actors were back from their afternoon break. Derek was late but Th ? o was working on some songs with them until he got back. Once again Th ? o was covering for him.
Now he’d pissed off Zoe. One thing at a time. He’d talk to Zoe after rehearsal was done for the day. Maybe he could ask the
producing director for a little more money so they could hire a few of Zoe’s staff in as over-hires while the rest kept her
boutique open.
This day was supposed to be better than yesterday. How the hell did Annie stay so optimistic when her life was so shitty?