Dreamscape Adventures, Inc, page 5
“My mistake, m’lady. A thousand pardons.”
“You are forgiven, Sir Luke,” said Charlotte regally. She took his arm and led him inside the palace, through enormous wooden doors. Every person they encountered along the way stopped to curtsy or bow to Charlotte, and glance curiously at Luke. He realized how odd he must look, all sweaty and in his climbing gear, in this fantastical environment. He might have felt self-conscious, if he’d thought any of them were real. Charlotte acknowledged them all with an incline of her head.
“This is my dear friend Sir Luke,” Charlotte told an elven servant, with the looks of a Hollywood leading man. “Please take him to dress.”
“Am I spoiling the aesthetic here?” Luke murmured to her.
“I believe ‘anachronistic’ is the term,” she whispered back, with a wink.
The servant led Luke down a dizzying array of corridors. He half wondered if they all necessarily went anywhere, or if the IT team was programming the place in real time, keeping just ahead of him and Charlotte. Maybe if they ran fast enough, they’d find nothing but empty space. He also wondered if all these elves were virtual, or if any of them were actors wearing pointy ears.
“So do you exist, or are you just a figment of my imagination?” he asked the servant.
The servant looked back at him, blinked and shook his head. Whether an actor or a program, he was quite convincing. “I beg your pardon, sir?”
Luke sighed. “Come on. What do I have to do to make you break character? You and I both know none of this is real. And if you’re not real, then I’m actually talking to a programmer from Dreamscape, who’s putting words in your mouth. So tell me; which is it? I’m just curious.”
The servant looked a little frightened now, coming to a vestibule. “I… cannot say that I know what you mean, sir.” He opened the door to the chamber, where an enormous tub with claw feet brimmed over with bubbles and steam in the middle of the room. A willowy blond woman in a flowing white gauze gown sat on the edge of the tub, waiting. She stood when Luke entered the room, and grinned.
“Jenna?” Luke shook his head, glancing back at the servant, who bowed and retreated, as if he couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He turned back to the flight attendant, shaking his head. Maybe this was Dreamscape’s way of answering his question: these were actors.
“You’re an actress too, huh?”
She stepped toward him, her expression bashful. “Not usually. But I asked if they could make an exception, because—I missed you.” She took a step toward him, her eyes tracking down his body as she bit her lip. “They sent me to help you get ‘cleaned up’.” She used air quotes, her eyes twinkling.
Luke chuckled, shedding his pack and closing the distance between them. “And here I thought this was all Charlotte’s dreamscape.”
When Luke finished dressing—in an entirely acceptable tuxedo, he was pleased to see—Jenna begged Luke again to call her in New York. Once again, he evaded the question, as he had no intention of doing any such thing. He wouldn’t have even seen her a second time, had she not been waiting in his chamber. But, since she was right there, very available, and dressed in nothing but sheer white gauze… well. He was only human.
When yet another elf arrived at the chamber to lead him to whatever they were doing next, which he hoped would involve food, Luke hesitated, attempting one more time to connect to wifi. Still nothing. He heaved a frustrated sigh, and shrugged Jenna off as she attempted to snake her arms around him from behind by way of comfort. Clingy women annoyed him; particularly when he was already annoyed.
“Might as well leave this here, then,” Luke muttered, stowing his pack in the room. Then he glanced up at Jenna and the elf. “I will be able to find my way back to this room, right? You’re not going to reprogram the castle in my absence?”
Jenna and the elf exchanged a helpless look, and Jenna shrugged at the elf as if to say, I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“Reprogram?” echoed the elf.
“Nevermind. Don’t let me ‘shatter the illusion’ for you,” Luke waved his hands in the air as he followed the elf out.
The elf led him down a complicated series of corridors that he tried to commit to memory so that he could find his way back to his pack. A last flight of stairs descended into a wide open ballroom with parquet floors, filled with guests in 1920s fancy dress. Most of them either wore or held a masquerade mask to their faces. Waiters circulated through the room bearing platters of champagne and hor d’oeuvres. Luke shook his head sharply, down-shifting from what he’d expected to what he was seeing, when he caught sight of Charlotte in the crowd. She saw him too at the same moment, and beamed. His mouth fell open slightly.
She looked gorgeous.
Charlotte had always been a pretty woman, and Luke had always noticed. He’d pretended not to, though, even to himself—because if he noticed, then it would change the nature of their relationship. And if their relationship changed, it would necessarily become temporary. That was not an option, so he just didn’t let himself go there.
At the moment, though, he could not pretend. She wore a strapless, shimmering green dress that accentuated her every curve, her dark hair coiffed with the 1920s waves, and her lips stained a dark berry color. She held a matching shimmering masquerade mask on a stick, but away from her face.
“Sir?” one of the waiters stopped beside Luke, and handed him a black mask on a stick. He startled, tearing his eyes away from Charlotte, and accepted the mask with a weak thank you. Charlotte approached, and he tried to recover himself.
“You look—stunning,” he admitted when she was close enough to hear him. She beamed, but in such a way that he didn’t think she’d understood what he was really saying. Good.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she returned, beckoning him to descend the remaining stairs and join her. “Dinner is hor d’oeuvres and champagne, and there’s a band playing…”
“So wait, I’m confused,” Luke took her arm, steering her toward the dance floor. “Are you a medieval elven princess, or are you a 1920s Hollywood starlet?”
Charlotte gave him a coy little shrug, as she downed the last of her champagne glass and placed it on the empty tray of a passing servant. “Why choose just one? I’m never going to get to do this again.”
Luke grinned, nodding and looping an arm around her waist as he started to waltz. He took her other hand in his, the sticks of both of their masks smashed together between their palms. Charlotte tilted her head to the side.
“Since when have you danced?”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “You don’t know everything about me.”
“Luke,” she deadpanned, in a come-off-it tone. “I know you better than you know yourself.”
Luke blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He’d used the same phrase when he’d described Charlotte to the EMDC. Well, it is true, and we both know it, he reasoned.
“Well then, you have me at a disadvantage,” he said at last, gesturing around the room with his head. “Clearly I don’t know you at all. 1920s Hollywood? Elven princess?”
She flushed with pleasure as they swirled across the dance floor, telling him all about her favorite stories and films, and her fantasies as a little girl. How when people asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she’d alternately answered “Mary Pickford,” or “Arwen,” or “Martha Graham”—depending on when they’d asked.
“Ah,” said Luke, “so pretty soon we’ll find ourselves in the middle of the Nutcracker, then? I will not wear tights for you, I’ll just preempt that right now.”
Charlotte mock-pouted. “That’s too bad, I’ve always fantasized about you in tights…”
He arched a suggestive brow at her. “Is that right?”
Luke and Charlotte cut a wide swath across the ballroom floor. He’d almost forgotten that there were other couples present—or, actors present, or virtual couples, whatever they were—when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He startled a little, and they stopped dancing abruptly. Luke looked back at the man—he was blond with a goatee, and handsome in a quirky sort of way. Luke looked back at Charlotte and found that she was beet red, and couldn’t keep her eyes off the man. He glanced back and found that the man stared at her with equal intensity.
“Sean?” Charlotte gasped, letting go of Luke like she’d forgotten about him entirely.
Sean embraced her back. “Charlotte! I’m in the band, but I thought I saw you across the room! I wasn’t sure it was you. You look magnificent!”
She flushed again. “It’s so good to see you! Oh! Sorry.” Suddenly remembering Luke, she turned to him, flustered and held out a hand between the two men. “Sean, this is Luke. He’s my boss. Luke, Sean and I… dated in college.”
“More than just dated,” Sean chided, “we also were almost famous together! Speaking of which…” He grabbed Charlotte by the hand and started to drag her toward the stage. Her eyes went wide and she leaned all her weight back against his pull.
“No no no… Sean, I’m serious! I haven’t sung in public in ages!”
“Well? No time like the present, Char! You used to tell me that, remember?” He dragged her along inexorably, leaving Luke alone and a little stunned in the middle of the parquet floor, surrounded by laughing masked strangers.
Charlotte and Sean climbed on stage, and Sean sat down at the piano again, surrounded by brass instruments that made up the rest of the band. He winked at Charlotte and handed her a microphone. Her hunched shoulders and expression told Luke that she was nervous. Sean began to play and sing the first verse—a sweet, slow ballad about lost love rekindled. Then he nodded at Charlotte encouragingly, who hesitated, but finally also started to sing. At first her voice was soft and deep. But within a few bars she found her courage, and—
Luke went slack-jawed. Everyone else in the room stopped dancing too, as Charlotte’s full, throaty voice echoed throughout the room. Charlotte closed her eyes, her arms wide open as she belted the chorus to Sean’s accompaniment and harmony.
When the song ended, everyone just stood there for a moment, stunned, before they burst into applause. Charlotte grinned, giddy with pleasure, and Luke stood there long enough to see Sean press her to sing another one.
That was it. He’d had enough. He turned and pressed his way through the crowd and out of the room, fuming, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Most of the people on the floor were trying to mob Charlotte anyway, suddenly converted from strangers into adoring fans. But Charlotte had apparently resisted Sean’s compulsion to sing another, and he heard her behind him calling, “Luke!”
He glanced over his shoulder, but kept walking. He didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t even want to look at her.
“Luke!” she called again, pressing through the crowd to reach his side in the vestibule to the dance hall. She was grinning until she saw his expression, and then hers melted into confusion. “You’re mad.”
“Yes, I’m mad!” he exploded, “you’re freaking Gloria Stein!” He named arguably the most famous female vocalist of the day.
She blinked, pleased. “You… really think I’m Gloria Stein?”
“You know you are, don’t give me any of that false modesty crap!”
She shook her head. “But—why are you angry?”
“Because—!” he blustered. He had no idea, that was the problem. Charlotte was always the one who helped him to understand his own feelings when he couldn’t put them into words. If she didn’t even know, he was at a loss. “Because… how did you never mention that at all, in the five years you’ve worked for me? It’s one thing to not tell me you’re into fantasy and film, but if you can do that? What else don’t I know about you?”
Charlotte drew herself up to her full height now, and shot back, “I never told you because our relationship is strictly professional, and therefore entirely about you! Or hadn’t you noticed?”
Behind her, Luke saw Sean pressing through the crowd toward Charlotte again.
“Your boyfriend’s back,” he muttered, and spun on his heel, stalking back up the stairs to the main hallway.
“Ex boyfriend!” Charlotte corrected him, but Luke didn’t turn around.
He wasn’t sure where he was going, since the palace had apparently morphed since he’d entered it, and he wasn’t sure if it would still look the same on the way out as it had going in. He thought about going back up to the room where he’d left his pack, but decided he’d do that in a few minutes. For now, he just wanted some air.
“All right!” he shouted to the ceiling of the palace, ignoring the stares this garnered from passing servants, now dressed again in their elven garb. “I’m done being part of Charlotte’s dreamscape! Get me back to mine, will you?”
When he emerged from the castle and into the night, he was pleased to see that he wasn’t in the valley of the elven city anymore. Now, he was back amid the red rocks, in the mountains where he’d gone climbing earlier. His breath came in little white clouds in the chill night air. Someone up there had heard him.
Why was he upset, anyway? he wondered. So what if Charlotte could sing? And so what if she hadn’t told him before? She was right—there never would have been a reason for her to mention it. It would have seemed like an awkward non-sequitur, after she’d dropped insurance papers on his desk: “By the way, Luke, did you know I’m way too talented to be working for you, and I should be on Broadway right now?”
He heard footsteps on the last of the stone floors of the castle entrance before Charlotte also emerged into the cold night air. She clutched her arms about herself for warmth, since she still wore only a strapless dress. Luke took off his tuxedo jacket and gave it to her, though his manner was still frosty. She wrapped it around her shoulders, and demanded through chattering teeth, “What the hell is your problem?”
Luke shivered too now, but huffed and turned away. “Nothing. Just forget it.”
“Luke—”
“You belong to me, all right?” he raged, whirling on her.
“Excuse me? I do not—” She blinked, and her expression morphed from frustration to wonder, as something clicked into place in her mind. “You think just because I can sing, that you’re going to lose me?”
“Well?” he raged. “What kind of a selfish ass would I be to keep someone who can do that as just my assistant?”
She narrowed her eyes. “First of all, I am not ‘just’ your assistant,” she told him, her voice cool now. “You know why you made partner at Fealty? Yes, you’re a great attorney, and you work harder than anybody else. But you wouldn’t be half so efficient without me, and you also wouldn’t keep half so many clients. Know why? Because they feel heard, respected, and cared for—because I’m the one they talk to most of the time! If I’m your ‘assistant,’ it’s in the same way that your hand assists your arm!”
“I know that!” he shouted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Don’t you think I know that?”
They panted in silence for a few moments, the white clouds of their breath floating up to the artificial sky. Charlotte took a step closer to him, and Luke shook his head and said grudgingly, “You can’t not at least try, Charlotte. I have some connections. When we get out of here, I can help you get in front of the right people.”
She touched his arm. “It’s not like it’s that simple,” she said. “In New York City? Everybody dreams of hitting it big. The chances that I’d quit Fealty to go become a big star are minuscule, no matter who you know. I’m not gonna be leaving you anytime soon, Luke.”
“Yeah, well. They haven’t heard you sing yet,” Luke muttered. “You just arrested the attention of an entire room.”
“Everyone in that room is an actor, except for you and Sean.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You think Sean is real?”
She looked briefly confused. “Of course he’s real. I’m sure Dreamscape hired actual musicians, and this is exactly the sort of gig he’d take.” She shrugged. “Maybe they even sought him out explicitly after seeing my EMDC interview, I don’t know.”
Luke licked his lips. “Yeah, well. I guarantee that in a room with an actual audience, that voice of yours would have exactly the same effect.”
She gave him a tiny smile, and her hand slid down his arm to clasp his hand. But even as she did so, movement in their periphery drew both of their attention away from each other and out to the shadowy red rocks. Luke narrowed his eyes as the silhouette grew closer and took shape.
“Billy?” he murmured.
Chapter 6
Billy glanced over at Luke briefly when he spoke his name, but then looked away again, more interested in the mountains and the sky. The moon was back to being singular, Luke noticed.
Luke shook his head, incredulous. “No no no no!” he muttered as he closed the distance to Billy. “This was not supposed to happen! Eli!” Luke shouted his name at the sky, and saw Billy startle at the noise, though he didn’t look at Luke again. “Eli, you promised Billy wouldn’t enter my dreamscape! Get your butt in here and fix this—now!”
“Who is Billy?” Charlotte frowned at Luke.
“He’s the nonverbal autistic son of somebody important, who wanted to send him for a dreamscape before they even had liability insurance!”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
Charlotte pursed her lips, and let out a puff of air as she processed this. “O-kay then…” She approached the child, still holding her shimmery green mask. “Hi there, Billy.” She held it out to him, and sure enough, the mask drew Billy’s eye. Charlotte gave Luke a shaky smile, and allowed Billy to snatch her mask from her, inspecting it from every angle. Every few seconds he would stop and flap it back and forth in the air, though it was unclear if this was a tic or if he was just cold. All he wore were a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt made of thin fleece.
“Eli!” Luke shouted again.
