Dream On

by Renita Pizzitola

I sighed. I sought a body snatcher not a businessman. I tugged my sweater back down–taking my self-respect with it–and smoothed my hair. My reflection stared back at me through the metal elevator door. I shifted my gaze and focused on the large number four.

  Grayson’s body might step off the elevator, or get on. Either would allow me to meet him. Well, as long as he didn’t opt for the stairs and avoid the elevator altogether. Judging by the fact I dealt with a body squatter, something told me he was too lazy to bother with stairs.

  I waited with as much patience as I could muster. My plan wouldn’t work forever. Eventually someone would wonder why the girl with the painted on clothes stood staring at the elevator.

  A lady dressed for work came up beside me. She reeked of hairspray and perfume. It probably took half a can of spray to master her hair helmet, so it surprised me to even smell perfume. I had to give her credit. Her hairdo would survive a wind tunnel. An open flame, on the other hand, would be a hair-tastrophe.

  She gave me a wary once-over and pushed the down arrow. I smiled. Like an idiot, I hadn’t even pushed the button. Something about her smug expression implied I did the walk of shame. I slinked back and dug around my purse, hoping to appear as if I’d forgotten something. It gave me an excuse to avoid the elevator–and her accusatory glances.

  I found my calendar and flipped through it. When the elevator opened, I waved her along. “Sorry, forgot something.”

  She stepped on, taking the scent of overpriced perfume and hairspray with her. The doors glided shut. My plan didn’t look too good. I continued to flip through my calendar trying to buy myself time. Eyeing tonight’s task, I discovered another one of those why-did-I-take-it kind of jobs.

  It was a middle-aged man who’d shown up dateless to prom. Apparently, it had always bothered him and, with his thirty-year reunion approaching, it was all he thought and dreamt about. So, he needed a date for prom–me. I wasn’t sure if I escorted middle-aged Tom or high school Tom to prom. Tom to prom. I chuckled at my own joke.

  “Up or down?”

  I straightened, embarrassed that someone had walked up on me lost in thought and chortling like a crazy person. My breath caught. Golden eyes.

  I regained my composure. “Down.”

  I threw on my best sexy smile and hoped he headed in the same direction. He turned his gaze back on me. It dipped to my mouth.

  “I’m Alex.”

  “Emory.” Probably should have made something up. Crap.

  The elevator dinged and while part of me was glad to see we had it to ourselves, another part of me prayed he wasn’t a zombie body snatcher. I could fight off men, but I wasn’t sure about zombies. Maybe aqua-net had it right. In case of zombie attack, strike match. Insta-torch. I suppressed another giggle.

  The elevator began its descent, and I faked a yawn. “Excuse me,” I said in a cute voice. “It’s a rough morning. Ran out of coffee.”

  He turned to me with a polite smile and I waited to see if he’d take the bait.

  “That’s no way to start your morning. Let me buy you a cup.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to.” My teeth sunk into my lip as I peeked up at him.

  “What kind of person would I be if I let you start your day without a healthy dose of caffeine? There’s a coffee shop just around the corner. I could use some myself.”

  I pretended to think it over. “Okay, why not.”

  * * * *

  Settling into a table, I did my best job smiling and batting my eyelashes. Between that and the too-tight sweater, I’d die if I ran into anyone I knew. Especially, my friends from the gym.

  “I hope I’m not making you late for work or something.” With a sweet smile, I pried for more information.

  “Oh no. I ran out to take care of a few errands. I work from home.”

  “Oh?” I blew on my coffee to cool it.

  “Yeah, just a little web design business. Nothing too impressive.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s great, I’m horrible with computers.” I’d lied. Running my own business required me to know a thing or two about computers.

  “Here,” he reached in his wallet and pulled out a business card. “If you ever need any help give me a call.”

  Score. I looked at the small white card with everything I needed.

  “That’s great. Thanks.” I slipped the card into my purse, already wondering how to take advantage of this opportunity without revealing myself as a dreamwalker. Maybe create a fake business needing computer support. Ugh. This already involved more effort on my part than I should willingly give.

  “Are we neighbors?” he asked over his coffee.

  I blinked. Crap, I hadn’t thought that far.

  “I actually don’t live in your building. My office is there.”

  “On the fourth floor?” He tilted his head.

  Nothing would slip past this guy. One and two were commercial floors and everything above was residential.

  “No. I’m on the second floor, but I got off on the wrong floor.” My face hurt from all my overdone flirtatious happiness. “I told you, no coffee. I just hopped on with someone else and got so distracted I didn’t even realize I missed my floor.”

  I spent too much time in dreams where the idiotic and abstract made perfect sense. In the real world, I was just the abstract idiot. Thankfully, Grayson’s body was so nice to look at this job seemed almost worth it.

  “Eh, we all have those days.” He grinned.

  Freaking gorgeous, which complicated things. Thinking straight seemed impossible. I’d expected a body-snatching zombie, not a charismatic man. I was in over my head.

  “I should get going,” I said into my almost empty coffee cup.

  I had his card and enough info to go on, but how I would lure him out was beyond me. I needed help and maybe the real Grayson might offer me some advice. He seemed to know more than I did.

  “Thanks for the coffee.” I gave him my most dazzling smile.

  “My pleasure.”

  We both stood. I pushed my arms through my coat and pulled it over my shoulders.

  “You know, this probably seems a bit forward, but a friend’s having a birthday party down at The Thirsty Dog this Friday night. Would you be interested in going? You can meet me there, it doesn’t have to be like a date or anything, but I’d love to get to know you better.” His words tumbled from his mouth, as if he would lose the nerve to ask if he didn’t get the question out all in one breath.

  “Hmm.” I thought about it, but knew I needed to jump at the opportunity. “I promised my friend I would hang out with her Friday night. Do you mind if I bring her?”

  “Not at all,” he said a bit too eagerly.

  “What time?”

  “Seven.”

  “It’s not a date then.” We grinned.

  “I’ll see you there. If you have any trouble finding me, or change your mind, give me a call. My number’s on my card.”

  “I’ll call you if plans change.”

  We said our goodbyes and I headed home. Job well done.

  Of course, the minute I got home I called Penny to inform her she had plans with me Friday night. As always, she was game for anything, but her onslaught of questions about Alex were hard to dodge. She knew I dreamwalked for a living, but I felt the need to protect the privacy of this job more than ever. All I needed was a loud, drunk Penny blowing my cover. So we left it at a cute guy I met in my building invited me to a party over coffee. Enough info for her and it made my non-existent love life sound interesting.

  I headed to bed to get some sleep before prom. I giggled to myself. Unbelievable, I was going to prom.

  Chapter 7

  Girls in dresses giggled in clusters as boys adjusted ties and exchanged high fives. Did guys really do that before prom? I hoped it had nothing to do with Tom’s subconscious deciding all guys got some on prom night. Trying to decide the appropriateness of my dress, I studied the other girls. Though I’d figured I’d never go wrong with a s
kin-tight, strapless anything–no matter the decade. I might be stuck in the late 80s judging by the other dresses. I sighed, thankful it was just Tom’s dream.

  My date was young-Tom, which relieved me, but also made me feel kind of like a cradle robber considering that now made me almost ten years his senior. The agenda was to get him a date to prom. All post-prom activities had been clearly defined as a no-go, regardless of the high-fives he subliminally tossed around.

  As I entered the gym, a black, teal and pepto-pink balloon arch assaulted my eyes. The matching confetti and streamers strewn throughout added a nice touch. A plastic banner hanging from the ceiling read, A Night to Remember, printed in some cheesy block font. I almost giggled. It really was a night Tom had never forgotten. Poor guy. I didn’t know the exact reason he’d showed up dateless to his real prom. After all, this younger version seemed attractive enough, but then his friends accosted us.

  It was like Revenge of the Nerds. Glasses and pocket protectors surrounded me. Okay, maybe not real pocket protectors, but these guys were dorks. Of course, little did these teenage girls know, these nerds would be the ones making all the money in a couple decades. And that super-hot jock encircled by groupies would still be tossing grapes five feet in the air, catching them in his mouth. Problem was, in twenty years he’d be doing it on a couch, with a beer belly, watching football and yelling for another cold one. I shuddered.

  Tom’s friends oohed and ahhed over his bringing a date. My face remained masked in politeness while I wished they would disappear. It was like living my own personal prom nightmare. If they weren’t going to leave, we needed to go somewhere they wouldn’t follow.

  “Tom,” I cooed. “Can we dance?”

  He looked nervous. With a seductive smile, I glanced around at his friends and leaned in to whisper in Tom’s ear.

  “This is your dream and you can do anything in it. Even if you don’t know how, you can in a dream.”

  His expression shifted to a hint of a smile. “Sure, let’s dance.”

  We danced several songs before I noticed the hot jocks staring at me and the popular girls glaring at me. Tom’s subconscious feelings. His dream had gone in the way he’d wanted. He’d become the guy everyone else wanted to be. I smiled. On more than one occasion, he’d looked at a slender girl with long brown hair. She stood with some other girls, laughing and happy, but it didn’t appear she had a date either.

  “Tom, is she your crush?”

  His cheeks flamed red, and he nodded once.

  “Did you want to ask her to prom?”

  “Yeah, but she would’ve said no.” He stared at the girl, sighed and cast his gaze downward.

  “You don’t know that. Ask her to dance.”

  “I can’t.” He looked at me, wide-eyed, and swallowed hard.

  “Sure you can. Your dream, remember? Ask her. She’ll say yes, and anyway, I’ve seen her look at you at least three times in the last five minutes. Make her dream come true too. Ask her to dance.”

  “Are you sure? Do you really think she will say yes?” He smiled and his eyes brightened.

  “Positive.” Which I wasn’t, but it was his dream. If he felt confident she’d say yes then she would.

  “Okay. I’ll do it.” He straightened his shoulders.

  “Good, now go. I’ll sit over there.” I gestured to a corner. “If at any point you’re happy with the progress and would like me to leave just give me a sign.”

  “What kind of sign?”

  “No need to make this complicated. Just wave to me. It’ll be my cue to leave.”

  Beaming, he made his way to the girl. I watched for a minute. When she smiled, nodded and took his hand, I found my corner to sit in. I gazed at the two slow dancing and smiled. A small part of me wished for romance in my life–my real one.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  I glanced up, wondering if a nerdy friend had found me sitting alone. “What are you doing here?”

  “I told you. I follow all your dreams. You looked like you had a moment to talk so I thought I would come over.” Grayson grinned exactly as Alex had at the coffee shop and once again, I swooned. “You look hot by the way. Wish my date for senior prom looked like you.”

  Embarrassed, I tugged the top of my dress. “I don’t normally dress like this.”

  “Too bad.” His mouth pulled into a smile.

  My body responded with conflicting emotions. Only a few hours before, I’d stared at this exact same expression on Alex’s face. The distinction between the two men thinned.

  Grayson settled into an empty chair.

  “So your body snatcher asked me out today.”

  His head jerked up. “You met him already? You work fast. What did he say?”

  “Not much. He works from home, with computers. His friend’s having a party Friday night. I’m invited. He also gave me his card, so I have his info now.”

  “Friday night.” He chewed it over. “Do you think he’s a dreamwalker?”

  “Unfortunately, unlike my business card, his didn’t say.”

  Grayson chuckled.

  “I hoped you would have a game plan for phase two. I met the guy, but now I don’t know what the heck I’m supposed to do.”

  “I guess you just have to get to know him better and figure out how to draw him out. If he’s a dreamwalker, it shouldn’t be too hard. We just need to find something he’d enter the dream realm for. If he’s just some wandering spirit, I have no idea. I guess we need to know how or why he did it the first time and trick him into doing it again.”

  He seemed to speak more to himself, his thoughts bouncing around as he spoke aloud.

  “Sounds easy.” My words dripped with sarcasm.

  Grayson scratched his head. “Yeah, we’re pretty much screwed. I’m starting to think I’m never going home.”

  “Don’t say that. We just started. You can’t give up yet.” My own optimism surprised me, but something about Grayson made me want to keep him happy.

  He grinned, and I sensed his mood shifting from thoughtful to playful. “Wanna dance?”

  Secretly I did. A cheesy slow song started. Laughing, I considered the dance floor and noticed Tom trying to get my attention.

  “Time’s up.” A hint of disappointment glazed my words.

  “Huh?” Grayson followed the direction of my gaze.

  I gestured in the direction of my client and the slender brunette pressed firmly against him. “I’m getting my signal to get lost. Tom’s taking his dream back. Maybe he’s going to fulfill his ultimate prom fantasy after all. Especially, since it wasn’t in my job description.”

  “Are you saying you let a guy take you to prom and weren’t planning on putting out?” He gasped in mock horror. “Tease.”

  “I know. I’m such a bitch, but hey, the guy didn’t even offer to buy me dinner. He met me at the front door. I, at least, need dinner first.”

  “If my body snatcher offers to buy you dinner Friday night, do me a favor, say no.”

  I laughed.

  “Seriously, it hardly seems fair my body gets to have all that fun without me.”

  My cheeks flooded with heat, a mixture of embarrassment and imagination. Anything involving his body would definitely be fun. “Don’t worry, no dinner involved, and I’m bringing a friend.”

  “A large, burly one, I hope?”

  I giggled, seeking out my body, letting it call me home. “No, a cute blonde. And don’t worry I won’t let your body have any fun with her either.” I felt the familiar tingle as I faded from the dream.

  He shrugged. “I’ve never been into blondes.” His image turned grainy as my dream faded, but I still made out his eyes focused squarely on mine. “Not my type.” Then he was gone.

  I came to with my heart racing.

  * * * *

  To my pleasant surprise, Thursday’s job canceled, giving me a three-day weekend, but also depriving me of seeing Grayson. I had no real reason to speak with him, so I shunned my office. I
caught up on housework and shopped for a new outfit for Friday night. As lame as it was, part of me felt like I was actually going out with Grayson instead of Alex.

  When Friday night came, I slipped into my new red dress and headed out to get Penny.

  “Um, if this party sucks can we bail?”

  I wouldn’t tell my friend no, but knew I had to stick it out–for Grayson’s sake.

  “Sure.” I prayed the party wouldn’t suck.

  The moment we arrived, I knew it wouldn’t. At least not by Penny’s standards.

  “Open bar.” Penny mouthed, grinning at me.

  I smiled back, relieved to know my friend wasn’t leaving any time soon.

  “Emory.” I turned to see Alex–in Grayson’s body. Talk about complicated.

  “Hi, Alex. This is my friend Penny.” I gestured to my friend.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  He shook her hand and gave her one of those quick once-overs guys did. I couldn’t quite figure out if they realized they did it, or if it was just a knee jerk reaction. His gaze came right back to me and I breathed another sigh of relief. Grayson’s body wouldn’t attempt to have any “fun” with Penny.

  Alex escorted us to the bar and we grabbed drinks. He introduced us to his friends and the birthday boy. Penny was a hit, of course, in the way attractive blondes in bars always are. Thankfully, I had Alex’s undivided attention.

  But it wasn’t long until my plan–keep him drinking and hopefully talking–backfired, since I also kept drinking. I was so practiced in not revealing my real line of work, it never slipped, but my drunken brain had a bit more trouble remembering the attractive guy sitting across from me was a body snatcher.

  A few hours–and plenty of drinks–later, I found myself hanging on his every word. He would find excuses to touch my hand, or pat my leg, occasionally brush my hair out of my face, and I ate it up. Every part of my romantically deprived body wanted Alex to touch me.

  Even more, I wanted a kiss, but the little voice in my head kept reminding that was a horrible idea. It wouldn’t be kissing Grayson. Well it would, but in a very wrong way. A very thrilling, but still wrong, way. The more my muddled mind tried to make sense of the situation, the more I knew I needed to leave. I didn’t trust myself around this guy.