Dream On Page 2

  Glad the job had ended, I walked back to my small office couch and plopped down. I sipped warm coffee as my mind went back to the dream man.

  His gorgeous eyes, golden with flecks of green, complemented his tan skin to perfection. Dark clean-cut hair topped his tall, well-built frame. If Shanna dreamt about that kind of guy…

  “Good luck finding someone even close in the real world,” I muttered.

  I grabbed my stuff and headed home. For most people the day had just begun, but for me, I thought of nothing but my warm bed. Though my job involved dreams, it didn’t involve sleep. When in someone else’s dream I didn’t get any rest. My body might lie still but it didn’t recharge.

  I always took the stairs for what little exercise they provided, but today my exhaustion won out. With a soft bounce, the elevator arrived on the ground floor. As I slogged out a man stepped in. I halted mid-step. Shanna’s dream guy? I spun around but the doors had closed. Shaking my head, I sighed. Lack of sleep had led to hallucinations.

  Chapter 2

  “Crap,” I groaned, rolling over to grab my ringing phone. Noting the time, I realized I’d slept so hard, exhausted from my previous night of work, most of the day had long since passed.

  “Hello,” I croaked.

  “Is this Morpheus?” asked a way too perky female.

  Morpheus was the Greek God of dreams and the name of my dreamwalking business.

  “Yes.” I attempted to clear my voice of sleep. “This is Morpheus, Emory Bennett speaking.”

  “Um, yeah. Hi. I got your information from a friend.” She seemed unprepared for our conversation.

  “Uh huh.” I hated when customers danced around their reason for calling, embarrassed by their request. If only they knew half the shit I did or saw. “How can I help you?”

  “My name’s Nina. I’ve been having a dream and think you might be of some help.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. The first step is to meet for a consult. You can come by my office and we can discuss the details there.” With a polite, professional tone, I got to the point. Sleep had already wasted too much of my day and I had no desire to drag this phone call out.

  “Oh yes, good. Can I stop by the day after tomorrow? Afternoon?”

  “Perfect. I will schedule you in for say, three on Tuesday?”

  “Great, thank you. I look forward to meeting with you.”

  “Same here.”

  I set my phone down, forced myself out of bed and grabbed my calendar. On my schedule tonight was a young college boy with an embarrassing recurring nightmare. I flipped ahead to tomorrow night.

  My body longed for a good kick-ass dream–well a kick-ass dream in which I was prepared. No more crazy rabid beasts. Tomorrow’s assignment made me smile. The exact kind of job I’d hoped for. Gloating seemed wrong, considering my client’s ex had physically abused her. But the fact I got to put him in his place while helping her realize he could be defeated and no longer controlled her, made me happy.

  I stood and stretched loosening my muscles. I had just enough time to squeeze in a little kickboxing before heading back to my office.

  * * * *

  Two hours later, energized, showered and ready to face Mr. “I forgot my pants,” I showed up at my office surprised to find my client already waiting.

  “Hey,” he said. He crammed his hands in his pockets and shifted his gaze.

  “Hi, Thomas. C’mon in.” I unlocked the door and sent a quick text to Johnathan, my sparring partner and, sort of, personal assistant.

  I never walked a male’s dream without him present. My clients seemed harmless enough but I preferred caution. Johnathan, an awesome friend, sat in on jobs, but, then again, I paid him so that probably had a lot to do with it. I welcomed my clients to bring a friend, though most didn’t. I had a feeling they preferred to keep private the reason they sought my help.

  Johnathan texted back. Five minutes away.

  Tossing my stuff onto my desk, I pointed to the bathroom. “The bathroom’s just over there if you would like to change into something more comfortable. My assistant will arrive soon, and then we can begin.” Thomas thanked me and headed to the bathroom.

  “Knock, Knock.”

  My office door opened with Jonathan’s arrival. The coffee he carried smelled divine. I gravitated toward him in a coffee trance.

  “Sorry, none for you, but I brought a bagel for when you’re done.”

  “Thanks.” I gave him a smile and hug. “Although I’d prefer coffee. It’s not like I’m actually sleeping.”

  “Yes, but caffeine keeps you from relaxing enough to enter the dream realm.”

  “Yeah, yeah, thanks Mom.” I smiled ruefully at him.

  He chuckled as he plopped on the couch, propped his feet on the small table and settled in with his coffee and late night snack.

  “What we got tonight?” he asked while channel surfing.

  “You know I can’t talk about clients,” I said, but mouthed, “Tell you later.”

  He winked.

  Johnathan was the only person I trusted enough to talk about my dreamwalking with. When I needed a sympathetic ear, someone to share in my triumphs or understand my occasional frustrations, I turned to him. He respected my clients’ privacy and would never repeat what he’d heard.

  My client emerged. I introduced the two men and showed Thomas to his cubicle.

  “Lie down and get comfortable. Also, try hard to think about the dream you want to deal with tonight. It’s important you have it fresh in your mind in case your dream takes you someplace else. We can redirect if necessary.”

  He nodded, glanced at the bed and shifted his weight.

  “Thomas, trust me. There isn’t a whole lot I haven’t seen. Just relax. We’ll work this out. Okay?”

  “Okay.” His voice was barely audible and he looked everywhere but at me.

  “I’ll see you soon.” I turned around, dimming his light on my way out and closed the door with a gentle click.

  “Everything set?” Johnathan asked from the couch.

  “I suppose.” I kicked off my shoes and wandered over to him. It took the client a bit to fall asleep so I didn’t hurry to get to my room. “We need to go out for drinks soon. I have to tell you about last night.” I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn’t believe what happened.”

  “Oh? Do tell.”

  I walked toward my clear cubicle, laughing along the way. “No time tonight, but you’re going to love it.”

  “You’re such a tease.” He focused on the movie he’d turned on.

  I shut my door, not bothering to lock it with Johnathan here. I climbed into my bed, lay my head on my pillow and checked on my client through the glass. His chest rose and fell in a steady pattern. If he weren’t already in dreamland, he’d head there soon. This guy must have followed my rule–come in with no more than six hours of sleep. Everything ran smoother if the client arrived drowsy.

  I faced the ceiling, took several deep breaths and shut my eyes. My spirit began to tingle with energy as I summoned the dream realm. Once the connection took hold, my spirit rose from my body. Like a flash, I zoomed through oblivion into another dimension.

  I took in my new surroundings. A college campus. A busy one. My client’s dream involved showing up to class missing something. It varied from shoes to his shirt, to the item he found most perturbing–his pants. It always happened in front of a girl he liked. I needed to intercept him before he made it to class and provide him with the missing article of clothing.

  Near a water fountain sat a black backpack. I grabbed it and, sure enough, found a complete outfit including shoes tucked inside. Now prepared to handle any situation, I relaxed.

  I located the history department, and slung the bag over my shoulder. As I headed toward the building, the dense crowd of students began to thin, but a half-naked boy never appeared among them. The heavy metal door swung open and I stepped through. A flash of pale skin captured my attention as a shirtless boy walked into
a classroom. Crap. He’d entered the dream faster than I’d expected. I called out his name, but he didn’t hear. Thinking fast, I shifted my physical appearance, which, like clothing, I altered at my discretion.

  As a dreamwalker, I abided by three basic principles.

  First, I was only a visitor in someone else’s dream. Although I influenced dreams, I couldn’t force changes.

  Second, I couldn’t carry anything tangible into that realm. Hence, the no weapons rule. Only my spirit crossed over. My subconscious manifested clothing and cosmetic changes.

  The final and most important principle, if a dreamwalker’s spirit died in the dream realm, the dreamwalker died in real life. Without a spirit housed inside, bodies are useless and can’t function. This rule I found the most unnerving, but it was a risk all dreamwalkers took.

  I didn’t create these rules, but I lived by them. Sometimes they frustrated me, but other times they came in handy–like in my current predicament.

  I quickened my pace to a jog and visualized myself with sopping hair and damp skin. I stopped my client just as he entered the room, threw on a flirty smile and pressed my hand into his chest.

  “Hey. I wanted to give you back your shirt.”

  He appeared confused as his dream brain processed me. His eyes widened and his gaze darted to a cute blonde in class. Her eyebrows scrunched as she tilted her head to one side and her gaze shifted between us.

  I prayed he would go along with the scenario. He seemed to understand, so I went on.

  “I can’t believe I got caught in a rainstorm in a white shirt.” I chewed on my lip. “You’re an amazing guy for helping me out the way you did. You, like, literally gave me the shirt off your back.” I giggled in my best college girl way and tossed my hair over my shoulder. “My roommate brought me a change of clothes. I wanted to give this back to you.”

  In one rapid motion, he tugged it back on. The crimson drained from his cheeks and his shoulders relaxed.

  “Um, no problem?” His acting needed help, but this would still work as long as he believed it would.

  His gaze flicked back to the cute blonde, still scrutinizing us.

  “Well, I hope I can return the favor some time.” Smiling, I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip and leaned forward but spoke loud enough for the girl to hear. “Any time you want the shirt off my back, just let me know.”

  His jaw dropped as red crept back into his cheeks, and I stifled the urge to laugh.

  “Unless,” I whispered, hoping he’d get the hint, “you’re unavailable.”

  “Oh.” His eyes grew bigger. “Oh yes. Actually, I’m sort of interested in someone else right now.”

  My lower lip jutted out in a sexy pout.

  “I’m glad I could help, and please don’t take this personal, but there’s someone I’ve wanted to ask out. It wouldn’t be fair,” he glanced at the blonde, “to either of you.”

  “Okay. I understand, I guess.” I reigned in the pout, but only a bit. “Well she’s a lucky girl, whoever she is.” I stared squarely at the girl as her face lit. “I’ll see you around.”

  I turned to leave, but glanced back at Thomas. “If you’re going to ask her out you’d better do it soon or I’m going to come back and see if you’re still available.”

  I made a motion with my head hoping he’d get the hint and do it now. Being a dream, it meant nothing so far as the girl was concerned in the real world, but maybe a practice run would help in the future.

  Thomas grinned. He seemed content with the way his dream had gone. Not quite what I’d anticipated, but it had turned out okay. I’d accomplished my goal of helping the dreamer deal with an undesirable situation, and although everything that had just played out might seem unrealistic, it was a dream. Anything might happen and somehow still make sense.

  Satisfied, I searched for a corner to fade out, ready to transition back. I stepped into a small alcove and began my descent.

  “Wait!”

  As I wavered between realms, I scanned the area for the person who’d called out to me, but the dream had blurred. Just before it ended, I caught a glimpse of golden eyes.

  Chapter 3

  I sat upright. That couldn’t have been the same guy, right? How would two different clients have a person so similar in each dream? It didn’t make sense. Unless, this guy was looking for me. Impossible. Dreamwalkers didn’t search for each other through dreams, did they?

  I envisioned the eyes I’d seen right before the dream faded. They looked so similar to the man from Shanna’s dream. A coincidence?

  I heard a gentle knock as Jonathan peeked in.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah, dream went great. Not as planned, but good.”

  “They never go as planned.” He chuckled.

  I laughed in agreement, still perplexed but pushed it out of my mind.

  “You sat up so sudden I worried something happened.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said.

  With a quick glance through the glass, I saw Thomas still asleep, smiling, curled on his side. I grabbed my bagel, followed Johnathan to the couch and pulled my knees into my chest.

  “I wish you’d seen tonight’s dream.” I whispered.

  “Oh yeah, better than last night’s?”

  I paused, bagel mid-air and snorted. “Dental work’s better than last night’s.”

  He sucked air in through his teeth with an over-exaggerated wince. “That bad, huh?”

  “You have no idea. You’ve seen Scarface, right?”

  “Oh no.” He shook his head and chuckled.

  “Oh yes.”

  * * * *

  I described the previous night’s dream, from my misunderstanding about the dog to the replica gun. Johnathan got a good laugh out of it and had way too much fun quoting lines from Scarface in response to everything I said. Afterward, we watched a movie while waiting for Thomas to wake. He slept hard–that or his dream went so well he didn’t want to leave it–but soon he emerged from his cubicle.

  “Thanks.” He grinned, dropped his head and shuffled to the bathroom.

  “No problem.” He seemed happy and, as a general rule, I didn’t discuss dreams after the fact unless the client wanted to. Something told me he didn’t care to talk about it, even though satisfied.

  After changing and gathering his stuff, he left. Although he’d slept a long time, the job had been quick considering how fast I’d completed my part. Having slept all day, I wasn’t tired, but Johnathan seemed beat.

  “Well, time to call it a night,” I said.

  “Do you want to get a bite to eat or something?” He asked as he stood.

  Although he never said it, or acted on it, sometimes I suspected he had feelings for me. He was nice, funny and an exceptional sparring partner, but for me, it ended there. Our relationship lacked the spark of attraction necessary to make it work and no way would I blow a good friendship testing out the maybes. Things between us needed to remain platonic.

  “Not tonight. I have a big job tomorrow. I need the extra rest, but if you’re free tomorrow, I’d love to work out. It’d help before the gig.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll meet you at the gym. Just give me a call.”

  We said our goodbyes and headed home. Part of me wished I had a guy to spend the evening with. Just not Johnathan.

  I pulled into my parking lot and checked the time. A few minutes after midnight. I shrugged. What the hell, why not? I texted my best friend, Penny. You still Up? The answer came in the form of a phone call.

  “Hey girl. Hell yeah I’m up.” We had a bad reception and her phone crackled.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Staged. Come join me,” she yelled into the phone.

  “Karaoke?” I shouted back.

  “What else? Get your ass down here.” Music thumped in the background. Penny giggled and mumbled a few words to someone else.

  “I’m not dressed for going out. I’m in jeans and a t-shirt.”


  “Who cares? It’s past midnight. Everyone’s drunk. They won’t notice what you’re wearing.”

  A night with Penny would be fun. My irrational side won out.

  “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  I pulled the phone away as Penny squealed into my ear, “Yay! See you in a few.”

  My phone went silent.

  I headed the few blocks to the karaoke bar. Once parked, I flipped down my visor to check my hair in the mirror. I attempted to smooth the flyaways and applied lip-gloss. I took off my jacket and pulled off my t-shirt, revealing a white tank top. Not my usual going out clothes, but it met bar dress code–skimpy. It’d have to do. I stepped out of my car and shivered, reached back in, grabbed my jacket and tugged it on. No need freezing my ass off.

  Henry, the doorman, greeted me as I approached the entrance. “Hey, beautiful. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  I hugged him and smiled. “Work’s been busy.” Not many people knew what I did for a living, but such a generic comment rarely received any questioning.

  “Don’t work too hard. Your girl Penny’s singing her little heart out in there.”

  Rolling my eyes, I stepped past him. “Uh oh, may require an intervention. Take care, Henry.”

  “You too, Emory.”

  Another ear-piercing squeal greeted me. Penny grabbed my arm, dragged me to her table. I said a quick hello to a few familiar faces and noted a few new ones she’d managed to acquire. As always, she’d done well. They were hot.

  One of the guys gave me a full-on head-to-toe scan as if I should find his undressing me with his eyes flattering.

  “Hi. I’m Ryan.” My attractive, yet possibly pervy, admirer stuck out his hand for me to shake.

  “Emory,” I shook his hand as I sat.

  Ryan scooted a little closer maybe to avoid yelling over the horrible rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart sang by a very sad-looking girl, but more likely to creep on me. He offered to buy me a drink. Since I had work the next day, and a big job at that, I declined. Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but reigned in just as fast.

  “Emory doesn’t drink on workdays.” Penny offered in a very loud, very drunk voice. I cringed. As if on cue, Ryan turned to me.