Dream Wakers: The Veiled Prophecy (Book One)

Chapter 11

 Emmy could see Kelly from a distance. She had to admit that the dress was perfect for her new friend. It plunged dangerously to an empire waistline, leaving the fabric to flow freely over curvaceous hips. Kelly wasn't kidding about her fashion sense, which relaxed Emmy a bit on her own attire.

"Hey," Emmy called.

"Hey, girl!"

As they walked to the conference center, Kelly filled her in on some of the people she'd want to meet and who she would introduce her to.

"I'm making it sound important," she admitted, "but it's just a bunch of boring country folk."

"I grew up in a small town, I understand. They don't know how small theirs really is."

"Yes!" Kelly giggled. "I knew you'd get me!"

Her childish energy was endearing. Emmy enjoyed being around an exuberance that she had lost a long time ago. Somewhere deep inside yearned for it now. She thought of the dark haired woman and the dream she had of them running together at Henry's farm. She had woken up wishing they'd really been friends. Kelly would have to do. Their heels clicked on the side path and Emmy was lost in her thoughts.

"Girl, don't be nervous," Kelly misinterpreted. "You have to know how serious that dress looks on you."

"Oh, it's not that. I've been having really weird dreams since I've been on the road. Sometimes they get me thinking too hard."

"I totally get it," Kelly offered, though she didn't at all. Truthfully, she couldn't remember a single dream she'd ever had. Kelly appreciated the deeper levels of Emmy, and the idea of befriending her seemed even more impressive.

"Get ready," Kelly scoffed as they approached the building, "we can play local or not. So easy to guess by the level of tacky."

They walked through the large doors to the softly lit display. Wooden partitions zigzagged through the open auditorium, and people wound through them, carefully considering the hanging art. Sculptures sat atop faux stone pedestals, and farther beyond she could barely see the tall New Yorker working the cocktail bar aside the long table of refreshments.

The handful of those standing near the door stopped to stare at the pair as they walked through. Kelly was glowing from the attention, comfortable with the crowd. Some looked with lust and others with mild surprise. Emmy froze in her tracks, suddenly aware of every curve her dress was hugging.

"Oh, don't be a baby," Kelly whined, tugging at her arm. "Let's go get a drink."

Without argument, Emmy stumbled after her, dislodged only physically from self doubt. They hurried by the artwork, and Emmy's eyes dragged over what they could focus on.

"Lemon drop," Kelly ordered coyly.

"Kelly, you aren't old enough."

"John, my father owns the bar you work in. He doesn't care unless I go whining about not getting my way."

John glared at her as he poured. "Don't get me in trouble. I will not get you drunk while I'm clocked in."

She smiled in the way a spoiled child might.

"What about you," he stopped, stumbling his eyes over Emmy in disbelief. "Is that you?"

"I'm gonna need a shot of whiskey, quick."

Kelly glared at her in surprise. Emmy slid the honey brown liquid down her throat and cleared it, handing it back to him.

"Emmy, if you want to impress these people, you might want something more fem!"