Juxtaposition

Sleep was long in coming that night. After Rose left, the place seemed emptier than usual. That was just stupid, though. He had just met her, so there was no logical reason why she was still dancing in his thoughts long after she was gone.

He cleared his mind and rolled over to his left side. Finally he fell asleep. But it wasn't an easy one. His sleep was disturbed by fanciful dreams of horses and trucks and talking elephants. A beautiful girl who looked similar to Rose was sitting in a decrepit gazebo, her gaze sorrowful as she rubbed a heart carved into the arm of her wooden bench.

Suddenly, as if she heard a sharp noise, her head snapped up and she stared directly into his eyes. "K'vin?" her mouth seemed to form, and almost imperceptibly he sensed the murmur in his mind. He tried to reach out to her, but a mist obscured the scene into milky blankness as he felt some sort of pulling sensation.

He awoke sweating, the comforter twisted around his legs. What was that all about? He got up and paced his bedroom, his steps leading to the sliding glass doors and the chilly night air of his balcony. His head cleared immediately, the vision still sharp in his mind.

On impulse, he headed to his loft office. Opening up his laptop, he documented the entire dream in a brief, almost feverish burst. Once completed, he saved and closed the laptop before he leaned back in his leather chair and closed his eyes.

He was sure he had seen this girl before. He was equally sure that, despite their similarities, it wasn't the production scriptwriter. He flashed back to his childhood and his imaginary friends. He opened his eyes and looked at his childhood friend on the low shelf. The thought all of this was somehow related flashed through his mind. But really, it had to be just a coincidence.

When he walked back into his bedroom, an icy chill reminded him that he hadn't shut the balcony doors before dashing to his office. He quickly closed and bolted them before sliding back under the sheets.

* * *

In order to help his restlessness, he went for an early morning jog around the neighborhood. The crisp air and exertion helped clear out the tensions of the previous night. Cooling down to a walk, he decided to go out for breakfast rather than whip up something at home.

He was surprised when he saw the big red truck in his driveway. Why had she returned?

Rose was calling herself all manner of names. There was no earthly reason why she was there, except that she wanted to see this man again. She checked herself in the visor mirror for a moment; a rap on her window startled her. Kevin was standing outside, a few strands of hair escaping their confines. He cocked his head to one side as if listening for something.

She gave a crooked grin before holding up a drink holder with two steaming cups of coffee. When he stepped back, she opened the door and handed him the the cardboard carrier before reaching to the floorboard for her backpack and a small bag.

Sliding out, she hopped down to the ground before shutting the heavy door with her empty hand.

"Hi" she said, then inwardly groaned at the triteness. So she tried for professional. "I wanted to go over some of my ideas about the script, and Anne said you normally like black coffee and crullers from this shop." She held up the bag. "So do you have time this morning."

Kevin barely stopped himself from grinning. Whatever the reason, he was happy to see her, but he wanted to keep the upper hand.

"Sure." The answer was a grunt and sounded far from welcoming, but Rose had perfected the art of people watching, and had seen the smile flit across his face. So that's how it was going to be. She followed him up the townhouse steps and waited for him to open the door.

Sitting on the bar stools with the coffee and donuts partially consumed, she felt ready to talk. "I've read most of your book series, in order to get a feel for your characters. I'd like to use parts of the second book as well in the story-line." She nibbled a corner of the pastry. "I know the focus is Kraisak and his relationship with the elephants of the forest, but there should be some development of a love interest with the princess."

Kevin bristled. "My novels are about adventures, not romance. Why put that element in it?"

"To be blunt, sex sells. A romance angle can increase the viewership by changing the demographics to be more favorable to women. And I don't think that my treatment of your story is too much flowery romance. After all, she is Kraisak's best friend, so why can't it evolve into something more?"

He swiveled to fully face her. "It's more important for him to have a companion he could count on while traveling a strange land, than to having to worry about love."

"I've got my treatment on my laptop. How about you read it first before you make any judgement? You may find that I'm a pretty good writer at this sort of thing. " She popped the final piece in her mouth, washed it down with the dregs and slid off the stool. "Where is your office?"

"Upstairs in the loft." he growled, already anticipating a fight. And if the donuts and coffee were a peace offering , she had another thing coming.