"No. Is tonight part of the grooming?"

"Yes. But before you ask, yes, there was a gentleman. Yes, he cancelled this week. I've had tonight's tickets for months. However, I wasn't upset he cancelled, because it gave me an opportunity to invite you." She paused. "You're going to be around some fairly high powered clients in the future. This gives you a chance to get used to it when it doesn't matter."

"All right," I said. "Thank you for explaining."

The event was back downtown. We pulled off the freeway and navigated the surface streets. We pulled in front of a building. "This is the Women's Club," she said. "It's an amazing building."

A valet opened both car doors for us. Mine handed me out and gave me an arm until Andrea had collected her parking ticket and stepped around to claim me. She offered an arm, and I took it. We stepped inside. She removed an envelope from her purse and presented her tickets as we stepped into the building.

I stared around the building. It had high ceilings and fancy woodwork everywhere. "This is gorgeous," I said quietly.

"Yes, isn't it? I make a point of attending events here because it's such a fabulous location."

We stepped further into the building. There were little displays set up everywhere trying to explain what this particular charity did and why we should give them money. Here and there were hollow glass obelisks into which one could slide a donation. Some of the checks had several zeros on them.

"Andrea," I said quietly after we passed one. "That seems..."

"Tacky?"

"Yes."

"Some people believe that charitable giving should be flaunted," she said. "I will allow you to come to your own conclusions."

"So if one wished to provide a less obvious donation?"

"There are opaque containers." She nodded towards one. "They themselves are perhaps less obvious."

A waiter walked past, and Andrea collected two champagne flutes, handing me one.

We roamed the building. Periodically Andrea encountered someone she knew. Sometimes she simply greeted them. With others, she joined into conversation. I held onto her arm and tried to look intelligent. I stayed out of the conversation until someone referred to the pyramids into which checks were being deposited.

"It's an obelisk," I said quietly.

"Excuse me?" I looked at the man who had misused the word. He was one of those types of men: fit, tight clothes, with perfect hair and a permanent sneer. His girlfriend was stunning and vacuous, the only type of woman he'd have who would possible have him. We were in a group of three other couples. I hadn't really been paying that much attention to the conversation, and there had been too many names flying around for me to remember any of them.

"It's an obelisk," I said. "Not a pyramid. They're easy to confuse." I turned to Andrea. "What is it the charity does? The displays are all about the need for clean water in third world countries, but I haven't seen how they intend to use your money."

"No," the man said. "It's a pyramid."

I looked back at him. Andrea wasn't saying anything. I sighed. "You're partly right. The top is a pyramid. The entire structure is an obelisk." I turned back to Andrea again. "Is there a display that explains how they propose to provide clean water? I'd like to know what they want to do with my money before I give them any."

"I think I know a pyramid when I see one," he said.

Andrea still wasn't rescuing me. Fine. I turned back to him. "And people used to think the world was flat, or that leeches were a good health treatment, or that trickle-down economics works."

I watched him actually puff out his chest.

I sighed. "Do you really want to get beat up by a girl over something so easy to check?" I asked him.

His friends all said, "oooh" at that comment.

"I think I know more about, well, everything than Andrea's pudgy assistant," he said. He looked me up and down derisively.

"Seriously?" I asked him, getting angry. "Fine. Does anyone's smart phone have a signal?"

Several phones came out. "Mine does," one of the women said.

I released my arm from Andrea's, opened my purse and pulled out my checkbook. In front of everyone I wrote a check for a thousand dollars and signed it. "I have a check for this charity made out and ready to drop in the obelisk. Where is yours?" I let everyone see the check.

I watched him reach into his coat pocket, withdraw his money clip, and count out ten one hundred dollar bills. Flashy asshole. I handed my check to Andrea and raised my eyebrow at him. He gave his cash to her as well. I turned to the woman with the working smart phone. "Obelisk. Look it up." I spelled it for her.

She punched away at the phone, stared at it for a minute, then began laughing. "An obelisk is a square, tapered structure with a pyramid-like shape at the top." She turned to him. "You got owned by a girl, and it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."

She leaned over and high-fived me.

"Feed the obelisk, Jeremy," she said. She turned her phone to face him. "Here's a picture if the words are too complicated for you."

I took my check back from Andrea and slipped it safely into my purse. Jeremy glared at me, especially when Andrea walked to the obelisk and one by one inserted the bills, making a big show of tapping the last one through the slot.

Jeremy grabbed his girlfriend's arm and stormed off. Andrea returned to my side, and I clutched her arm again.

"I'm sorry," I said. "He made me angry."

She looked down at me. "I am so proud of you."

"Man," said one of the men. "I hate that guy. That was beautiful, Felicia."

"The part that is really going to get him," said the other man, "is when he realizes he used cash and didn't get a receipt. He can't write it off on his taxes."

"It was stupid," I said. "To pick a fight over something so simple. Any third grader knows that."

"I didn't," said the woman who had looked it up. "I was willing to let him call it a pyramid."

The conversation continued for a while longer before we moved on.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," I told her.

"You didn't. Were your questions serious?"

"Yes," I said.

"They provide water bottles with built in filters. One bottle costs a few dollars and can produce enough water for one person for several months. I don't remember the details."

"Oh. This check is a little rich for my blood, but I could write a smaller one."

"As far as I am concerned," she said. "You just gave them a thousand dollar donation. It isn't like Jeremy was going to donate anything to them. He comes to these to let people think he is a charitable guy. Keep your check book in your purse."

Throughout the evening, we encountered more people Andrea knew. "Is this the woman who owned Jeremy?" One woman asked. "I heard about that."

"Everyone has heard about it," said her husband. He shook his head. "So stupid. Any third grader knows that."

"That was my point," I told him. At that point we each recognized a kindred history buff spirit, and we spent the next ten minutes dominating the conversation over vague facts regarding some of the more intriguing obelisks around the world.

"All right, you two," his wife said eventually. She looked at Andrea. "He could go on for hours if he finds a willing audience." She looked at me. "It was nice meeting you, Felicia. I hope to see you again."

"Have someone call me next week, Andrea," the man said. "We may have some business."

After the event, she drove me home.

"Was that what you meant by 'date'?" I asked her.

"Yes, although I wasn't quite expecting you to steal the show."

"I'm sorry," I said.

She laughed.

Dream Petra was laughing as she stroked my arm. I curled my fingers and tried to catch her hand, but only the hand worked, not the entire arm, and I could not catch her. Finally she laid her hand in mine and I squeezed gently.

The kiss she gave me left me breathless.

Or maybe it was the pair of cats sitting on my chest when I woke up.

"Thank you for inviting me last night," I told Andrea when I saw her on Friday. "I've never been to an event like that."

"You're welcome," she said. "And thank you for joining me."

She sent me home early that afternoon. "It's Friday. Go home. Enjoy the weekend."

My dream with Dream Petra that night was long and lovely. It started the same as always. I was on my back, naked, and unable to move. She was humming and speaking her unknown words, kneeling over me, smiling.

I looked into her green eyes and felt like I could get lost in them forever.

I wanted to talk to her. Twice I tried to say something. She didn't hush me, but she looked sad for a moment when I failed. Then she reclined next to me, her entire body pressed along my length, her head on my shoulder, and continued to touch me, humming and speaking her words.

I couldn't see what her hand was doing, but I could feel as she lightly touched my skin, drawing little figures with her fingertip. She drew fingers on my stomach and on my ribs. One on each leg. She teased my belly button for a moment, then her hand slowly worked towards my chest.

She drew figures on my breast, playing with the nipple. It felt amazing.

She kissed me, her hand still on my breast, and I woke.

"So," said Beth that night. "Any good dreams lately?"

Even over the phone, I blushed.

InvasionMy dream Saturday night felt like it went on for hours. I held her hand, and she looked so pleased. As always, Dream Petra hummed and sang her words to me while stroking me. I looked up at her from the floor and tried to smile.

It must have worked! As suddenly she offered her own radiant smile and caressed my lips.

She continued to caress me, and she looked so amazingly beautiful. We were holding hands, and I used a finger to draw a straight line on her hand. An "I". Then I drew an "L".

Suddenly she appeared startled and looked away. She stopped humming. She squeezed my hand tightly then looked back at me, her face full of concern.

"Felicia," she said. It was Petra's voice, and the first time she'd said any words I had understood except "Mine". She continued. "You are in danger. You need to wake up. Your cell phone is on your nightstand. Grab it. Arrange your pillows under the covers so it looks like you are still there, and hide between your bed and the wall. Not in the closet or under the bed! He'll look there. Call 9-1-1 and be very, very quiet. Wake up now!" She slapped me.

And I woke.

The dream was still fresh in my mind. I reached over and grabbed my phone, then I heard a noise. Someone was in my apartment! He had bumped into my sofa and swore quietly. Oh shit! Oh shit!

I arranged the pillows the way Dream Petra had told me, then crawled between the bed and the wall. I woke my phone and dialed 9-1-1.

"9-1-1-. What is your emergency?" came the voice over the phone I spoke quietly into the phone. "Someone is in my apartment! Oh god, someone is in my apartment!"

I heard footsteps in the hallway. My heart was pounding a hundred miles an hour. Afraid he would see the glow of the phone, I jammed it against my chest. Holding the phone in one hand, I slammed my other hand over my mouth to hold back the screams.

I heard him approach the bed. I was sure he'd hear my heart beating in my chest.

There was a thump! As he hit the bed. Then he swore and ripped the covers off the bed, tossing them over my hiding spot, further concealing me.

My bed has a dust ruffle. Even with my eyes near the floor, I couldn't see past it, but that meant he would have to pull all the covers off where he had tossed them and look between the bed and the wall to see me. The bed creaked, and then a voice from near the floor said, "Shit! Where is she?"

The bed creaked again. I kept my hand pressed against my mouth. I followed his footsteps as he walked over to my closet and slammed the door open. There were rustling noises.

I heard the sirens. My apartment building was only two blocks from the nearest active precinct house. The sirens stopped outside my building.

"Shit!" he said again. I listened as he ran from the apartment, slamming my door against the wall on the way.

I pulled the phone back to my ear. "Are you still there?" I whispered.

"Yes, Ms. Connor. The police are inside your building and approaching your apartment. Are you safe?"

"I think he ran. Oh god, I think he wanted to kill me."

And that's when I started to scream.

I heard heavy feet in the hallway, then a shout of, "Police! Police!" I continued to scream. I continued to scream as the feet pounded into my room. "Police!" I screamed louder when the bed was pulled away and the covers pulled off of me. I didn't stop screaming until a lady police officer crouched down on the floor in front of me and pulled me into her arms. Then I cried, clutching her desperately.

Someone gently took my phone away and spoke into it briefly. Several officers searched the apartment, yelling "Clear! Clear!" to each other.