Falling Awake(23)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

Leila’s brows rose. “What kind is that?”

“One that makes it sound like I might actually have a social life.”

They were sitting in Leila’s office. All of the Kyler executive suites were first class, Isabel reflected, just like everything else involved in the business, but her sister’s position as vice president ensured a particularly fabulous view. The darkly tinted, floor-to-ceiling windows looked directly out over the bay.

The elegant space was decorated in rich, warm neutrals with accents of black and Kyler red. The furnishings were expensive, modern pieces imported from Italy. Leila had overseen the interior design of every building at the Kyler headquarters. She had excellent taste.

But then, that was Leila through and through, Isabel thought. Her younger sister was not only extremely attractive, with her delicate features and excellent figure, she had a natural flair for style. Her hair was streaked with subtle blond highlights and cut into a fashionable bob. Her close-fitting cream-colored silk blouse and camel trousers sent a message of good breeding and refinement.

They were only two years apart, Isabel reflected, but they had always been opposites in many ways. Leila had played the role of the overachieving good girl, the one who made their fiercely competitive, highly successful executive father proud and pleased their socially ambitious mother.

From time to time Isabel had tried to warn Leila that her efforts were for naught. It had been clear to her early on that nothing either of them did was going to hold their parents’ marriage together, but Leila kept on trying to do just that by being Miss Perfect.

Even after their parents had divorced and remarried, Leila continued to be the good daughter. She was the one who brought home the long strings of A’s on her report cards, signed up for endless after-school activities in order to make herself look good to potential college acceptance committees, got elected to the student council and dated the kind of boys who were voted most likely to succeed. She attended an excellent college, established herself as a successful interior designer and topped off her list of accomplishments by marrying Farrell Kyler, a fast-rising executive in their father’s corporation.

Isabel was well aware that she, on the other hand, had been a major disappointment. She loved her parents and as a child had wanted to please them. But as she grew older, the mysteries of her rapidly developing capacity to dream extreme dreams fascinated and consumed her. She needed answers but no one she talked to even understood her questions.

She had been labeled an “overly imaginative child inclined to daydream,” a diagnostic understatement if ever there was one, and had spent a lot of time chatting with some very nice people in the counseling profession who tried to get her to participate in more school activities.

But the long line of therapists failed to draw her away from the consuming strangeness of her dream world. Her life, until she met Martin Belvedere, had been a lonely journey of exploration, self-discovery and low-wage jobs.

“I saw you with him out on the terrace in front of the café,” Leila explained. “He didn’t seem to be your usual type.”

That gave her pause. “You really think I have a usual type?”

“Brian Phillips, Jason Strong and Larry Higgins, for starters.”

“Huh. I see what you mean.”

The three were among the handful of men she had dated in recent years. All followed the familiar pattern: a roller-coaster ride that started out with a lot of enthusiastic conversations about their dreams, followed by steep plunges into boredom.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” she continued, “Ellis Cutler is not a hot date. If I’m lucky, however, he may turn out to be a client.”

“You mean he’s thinking about signing up for your new seminar here at Kyler?”

“No.” She spread her fingers on the cushions and dug her nails slightly into the soft leather, bracing herself. “I did some dream analysis work for him while I was at the center. He’s thinking of contracting with me for some more of the same.”

Leila grimaced. Isabel pretended not to notice. She was used to that look on the faces of her relatives whenever the subject of her career path arose.

“You’re serious about trying to establish yourself as a freelance dream consultant?” Leila asked.

Her tone implied that she had moved beyond her initial reaction of acute disapproval and was now resigned to the inevitable.

That was progress of a sort, Isabel thought, applying the positive thinking techniques she was studying in the Kyler Method manual.

“Yes,” she said, going for upbeat and optimistic, “but it could take time to build up a client list. That’s why I’m very grateful to you and Farrell for giving me a chance to work as an instructor here for a while.”

“You’re family,” Leila said flatly. “Can’t have you out begging on the streets.”

“I don’t know that I would have ended up on the streets,” Isabel said, trying not to let her irritation show. Leila meant well, after all. “If push had come to shove, I could have gone back to my old job.”

“Answering phones for that psychic hotline operation? Don’t be ridiculous. Mom and Dad were horrified when they found out what you were doing there.”

“It was a living.”

“It was an embarrassment.” Leila sighed. “By the way, have you told Mom and Dad that you got fired?”

“No.” Isabel slouched deeper into the sleek leather sofa. “I learned a long time ago that it’s best if I don’t give them too much information until I’ve settled into a new job. It just upsets them.”

“I suppose there’s no need to e-mail them the bad news.”

“Look on the bright side. They’ll be giddy with relief when they find out I’m going to work for you and Farrell for a while.”

“Yes, but they’re not going to be so thrilled when they find out you’re planning to set yourself up as some sort of psychic dream consultant.”

“We’ve been through this a million times, Leila. I’ve told you over and over again that I do not consider myself to be psychic.”

“You’ve worked for at least two so-called professional psychics, to my knowledge.”

“You know, some folks would say that giving seminars designed to teach people how to tap into the creative potential of their dreams is not a whole lot different from doing psychic dream consulting.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Leila said instantly, outraged. “The Kyler Method is a proven technique that can be applied to any aspect of one’s daily life. There’s no reason it won’t work with dreams.”