Chris was walking to work the next morning when Daria called. Minh had gone back to her apartment last night, after they’d headed up to Mission and ended up bowling with Daria and Shen, who had finished the movie and wanted to hang out.
He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Daria alone, though, about him and Minh. And after what had happened yesterday, that moment when she’d…well, not quite lied, since she was technically on her way home from the studio…anyway, after that, he was glad he hadn’t said anything to Daria yet. He wasn’t sure where he stood with Minh.
Or if he even wanted to be anywhere with her at all. Rationally, he understood that she might not want to share such intimate details about her love life with anyone—especially her parents—but that small denial of him yesterday had still hurt. After Kendra, he’d sworn that he’d never let another woman hurt him like that. And the fact that Minh could make him feel that way after such a short time…
It made him too vulnerable. Uncomfortable. Uncertain.
He didn’t like feeling this way.
“Nothing’s up. We’re just hanging out, having a good time. The usual.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Even to his own ears, he sounded like a dick. Daria was going to give him such a hard time.
But instead, she surprised him. “Really? Because that’s not what Gali said.”
He immediately dropped his blasé façade, grabbing the phone tighter and pulling it closer to his mouth. “What do you mean? What did she say?”
Daria just laughed. “Forty-eight-hour girlfriend, bullshit.”
“What did she say, Daria?”
Fuck, he was too into this. Too invested in something that shouldn’t matter. He should never have gotten involved with her outside of work. And yet, he had no one to blame but himself. Wasn’t he the one who had pushed her to break the rules, just a bit? What did he expect now?
“She said she’d never seen Minh so unsettled.”
He snorted into the phone. “That’s not exactly a resounding endorsement.”
“No no no, not in a bad way. Gali said Minh had a hard time with stuff and hasn’t been really living for a few years. She said this was the first time she’d seen Minh really question what she might be missing.”
Huh. Shit. He hadn’t expected that.
But either way—“Look, there’s nothing between us that actually means anything, okay?”
“I saw the two of you together yesterday. There’s a whole lot more than nothing between the two of you.”
“Even if there was something on my end—and I’m not saying there is—what would it matter? She only cares about the fact that I can get her into film composing and—” He stopped himself with a shake of his head. No matter what he might think of her in his own mind, it wasn’t cool to talk about her like that to anyone else, even Daria. “Look, I gotta go. The software isn’t working for one of the scenes, and I have to figure out why it keeps throwing random junk into the picture.”
“Fine. Have it your way. But just…think about what I said, okay?”
“I’ll give it as much thought as it deserves, how about that?”
“You’re such a jerk.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Butthead.”
On that note, she hung up, leaving Chris smiling again. There was nothing like a sibling to make one feel like a kid again. But he’d meant what he’d said—he would think about this thing with Minh as much as it deserved, which was a lot more than he had time for. Once again, he’d chosen the path of most resistance.
Chapter Thirteen
“It was a pleasure speaking with you, Minh. I’ll be in touch soon.”
Minh hung up the phone and watched a couple of cars go by. She’d just had her phone interview with Well Placed, and the woman on the other end had been very enthusiastic. She had seemed to like Minh’s answers, her thoughts about consistency in music and delivering quality songs that would make people feel compelled to purchase or use whatever was being sold in a commercial.
It was the worst interview Minh had ever had.
The prospect of working for them made her feel soulless, like it wasn’t just a safety net. It felt like, she’d actually be giving up on her dreams instead of creating a way to help her live while she worked toward fulfilling them.
And yet, it fit everything she thought she wanted. In fact, the process of writing commercial jingles was even more in line with her life philosophy than composing for films.
So why did she feel this way?
“Hey, Minh.”
A voice behind her made her jump in surprise, and she whirled around to find Chris standing there, hands in the pockets of his red jeans, eyebrow stud glinting in the sun.
“You okay?”