A Bedtime Story Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

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  Cover End

  A BEDTIME STORY

  By L. C. MOON

  COPYRIGHT 2014 © L. C. MOON

  Cover art by Dominique Blais

  Les Éditions D. A. D. inc

  D. A. D. inc Publishing

  Head Office

  1637, rue Des Clapotis

  Terrebonne, Qc, Canada

  J6X 4N4

  ISBN: 978-0-9938655-0-3

  ISBN EPUB: 978-0-9938655-3-4

  ISBN MOBI: 978-0-9938655-2-7

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  theBTSproject.com

  Know who you are, and they will too.

  LEV MALKIN

  Acknowledgments

  To Claudia, truth be told, if it weren’t for you, A Bedtime Story (BTS) would have forever remained my personal “bedtime story”.

  To my sister, Lana Chacra, a.k.a. Sissi, and most likely my (evil; p) twin in another life. You understood BTS more than I did at times and did not shy away from putting me back on track (in harsher ways than I expected: s) when I got lost. Your unwavering faith in me, in BTS, is what got me to the finish line. I will never forget our daily e-mails and their endless “last version!” I will never thank you enough for your support and for all the memories we created, caught up in BTS world, story, and music. Thank you. Most of Laura and Kayne’s story was written with the songs you composed for them playing on a loop. In the most excruciating moments of doubts, I only needed to play their theme song again, and I would think to myself, BTS has to be good if it can inspire such hauntingly beautiful melodies.

  One cannot mention BTS music without mentioning Brent Bourgeois. Brent, thank you. Listening to what you have done with BTS is a very humbling experience. Some encounters are meant to be, and I believe Lana and yours was among them.

  To Cam, my VERY OPINIONATED… interested party;). I love you and could not have asked for a better brother-in-law. You are more than family, you are a kindred spirit. Thank you for your devotion, from the amazing lyrics you wrote for BTS to the time and dedication you have given to the book and music. I would not trust BTS in anyone else’s hands.

  To my editor, Natalie Najarian (a.k.a. Bubbles). I took over your life. Shamelessly, one might say (though not me… lol). I will always cherish our two-hour long (almost daily) conversations and heated debates over (grammatically questionable) “AUTHOR INTENT!” lol. I have grown as an author under your care and patience. Our friendship was way overdue but will pass the test of time.

  To my best friends and “FA-MEL-LY”, you are few and irreplaceable. I could not have chosen better mates to travel this road.

  To my friends and Beta readers, ML, AS, and SP, and a special thanks to Tina E., JG Faherty and Donna J. Thank you for all your help and support.

  To Dominique Blais, a.k.a. Doom, I have always loved your art and knew from the get-go that it had to be you and no one else. My expectations of you were tremendously high, and you surpassed them by a mile. Thank you.

  And lastly, to my husband, my best friend, the love of my life, and always, my partner in crime. You know me like no one else on earth. You are the protective older brother I always craved and the ally I always needed. Boubounet, we have created our own little world. I look forward to growing old with you. Bald and toothless, still goofing around, cracking up at each other’s jokes under our friends’ discouraged headshake. It amazes me. Two accidents... and yet fated in the stars. Je t’aime, plus qu’hier, moins que demain... 10-5 20-1-9-13-5.

  Day-0

  She was standing still, amidst the chaotic music and frantic crowd, holding a Long Island Iced Tea she had been absentmindedly sipping for the past half hour. She had her back to him, and he was willing her silently to turn around. He’d been watching her for two weeks now, keeping track of her routine, her habits, and her correspondence. She kept to herself, no friends, no pets, little to no contact with the outside world. She went straight home after her shifts, bussing tables at the local deli where the obese, middle-aged manager obviously kept her for ulterior motives, considering the amount of dishes she broke in those two short weeks. He liked watching her. She was young, innocent, and pretty. Very pretty. She looked even prettier in a grey chiffon cocktail dress and nude stilettos. It was certainly a change from the jeans and hoodies he’d gotten so used to seeing her in. But he wanted to see her face again, to take in her delicate features and stare into those big round grey eyes. Maybe if he was lucky, he would get a glimpse of one of her scarce but impossibly sweet smiles. He was excited, tonight, he would finally make contact. And yet he felt slightly nostalgic, tonight, the job was over.

  She finally turned her head, only her head, with her back still facing him, as if sensing his stare. Straight brown bangs framed her eyes. Her long chestnut hair, usually in a ponytail, hung loose below her delicate shoulders, contrasted against her porcelain skin. She looked sophisticated, far beyond her years. He almost felt reluctance at what was to come, she was so pretty. Under different circumstances, his plans for her would have been as sinister, though designed for his own depraved pleasure. But no, Laura Spencer was a job, and an important one at that.

  ***

  It was supposed to be fun. The first warm night in early spring had all of Montreal buzzing with life and excitement. Restaurants and clubs were packed with the overjoyous liberated hibernators. Laura regretted the decision the moment she stepped out of her door. Pamela, her overfriendly coworker, had finally worn her down and convinced her to come out. “It’s a new club, classy, you’ll love it! Besides, girls need to stick together. You can’t let me meet this guy alone!” And her personal favorite, “He’s soooooo hot!” Uuughhh. Pamela seemed awfully fine, flirting up a storm with the hot customer she had given her number to, earlier that day. It didn’t take Laura too long to realize she had become a third wheel, and she remorselessly wondered off to get herself a drink. She was tired; she was always tired. She just wanted to go home. Tomorrow, a new postcard might be in the mail. For the past six months, one card was delivered to her mailbox every other week. She lived for those deliveries.

  A few men had tried approaching her, and she gently brushed them off. Suddenly, she felt a prickle down her spine. Turning her head around, she noticed him. He was wearing j
eans and a black shirt. He was tall, dark, and handsome, very much so. She surprised herself by noticing it. She was barely aware of her surroundings and the people in it. She often got in trouble at work for it, too distracted to notice clients, bumping left and right into waiters carrying hot plates, breaking a few too many plates herself. How she wished to be graceful and elegant; she consciously tried to be aware of her movements. In the end, she resigned herself to losing a tenth of her paycheck every other week to compensate her employer for her clumsiness.

  He was staring at her, very intently. Not the typical stare you’d expect from a man on the prowl. She held his gaze for an instant before her eyes instinctively fell to the ground. She didn’t dare look in his direction again, knowing his eyes were still glued to her. She gulped the remainder of her watered-down drink in one shot and headed to the bar for another.

  The very sexy, platinum blonde, miniskirt-sporting bartender was evidently more interested in serving the male clientele. After a few failed attempts at waving her down, Laura was about to retreat in defeat when a freshly made Long Island Iced Tea miraculously appeared in front of her. Her heart skipped a beat, in excitement, and in fear. Could it be the incredibly handsome, slightly creepy mystery man? She was relieved, if not disappointed, to find out it wasn’t. One of those overconfident corporate-looking guys was smiling at her, wearing the typical stare you would expect from a man on the prowl.

  “So… did I get it right?” He shot her one of those cocky smiles. “Yes… hmm… I mean no… Sorry, I can’t take that.”

  “Ah c’mon, don’t be like that. It’s just a drink. I saw you there downing the last one pretty fast, seemed like you really could use another.”

  She giggled awkwardly. “Sorry… I really can’t… I have to find my friend. Thank you though…” she mumbled the last part nervously, as she quickly turned around to make her exit, chiding herself inwardly for her lack of cool composure. Before she knew it, she ran into a wall of flesh and was about to lose balance when two firm hands caught her on either side.

  “Easy there… you okay?”

  It was him. She remained mute, simply staring up wide-eyed at him. He was even taller and better looking up close. He was light tan with deep brown eyes and dark wavy hair that fell to his chin. She gulped as he leaned in, facing the square jaw, full red lips, and very strong muscular body, which at the moment were too close for comfort.

  “Are you okay?” he repeated himself slowly, speaking softly in her ear. She could feel his breath on her face, feel her heart racing, and for some reason, red flags going up all over the place.

  “Yes… Thank you… I have to go…” she managed to blurt out before she broke free of his hold. She looked around desperately for Pamela. She wanted to leave. Now.

  She found Pamela making out in a corner with Mark, because now he’s just Mark, not the stranger for whom Laura had to play chaperone. Pamela frowned at Laura when she voiced her aggravation at the disappearing act. She was just with Mark, it’s okay, don’t freak out, like she’d known him her whole life. “Just fifteen more minutes? Pleaaaaaaase, pretty pleeeeeeaaase?” She even threw in with eye batting and the whole hoopla. Rolling her eyes, Laura warned her coworker, not friend, definitely not in that moment, that she would go outside for a cigarette. Fifteen minutes. Not. A. Second. More.

  He was already outside by the time she made her way to the street. He was alone, and he spotted her. It was too late to turn back now, no matter how badly she wanted to… or not. She smiled politely at him and stood at the opposite side of the door. He nodded his head to her, an imperceptible smile crossing his lips as he took another drag of his cigarette. She was waiting for him to speak to her, initiate small talk, but he didn’t. She was halfway through the cigarette, the silence making her uncomfortable, even more so when confronted to his relaxed posture. She was unnerved by his actions, or lack thereof, but reminded herself of the way she had treated him earlier. He was only being gentlemanly, and she’d brushed him off. It was up to her to make the next move.

  “Hey… sorry… about earlier… I didn’t mean to be rude…” She flashed him an honest smile. She did feel bad.

  “It’s okay, no harm done.” He offered her a charming smile, a heart-melting, teenybopper-mania-inducing, guy-next-door smile. Her heart fluttered and she couldn’t stop smiling herself. “I just… I really suck at these things… and by things, I mean most social interactions…” she blurted out nervously, as she always did in these situations. Why couldn’t she be the composed, self-assured, aloof type? Even her voice went up a few octaves, the sound grating her ears. This man was in his late twenties at the very least, and there she was sounding like a high schooler on her way to the prom.

  “You doing all right,” he said with a knowing, indulgent smile as he flicked away his cigarette. He then added, “Take care of yourself,” brushing her elbow with the tips of his fingers as he made his way back in.

  She was floored. He might as well have slapped her in the face. She felt rejected, and yet she couldn’t help rubbing the spot he had just touched, smiling to herself. She was still daydreaming, a telling smile on her face, when she remembered hunting down dear Pamela so they could finally get out of there. As expected, Pamela was found in the same corner, though the situation seemed to have escalated. Looking away, Laura tugged at her friend in a vain effort to detangle her from Mark. Annoyed, even more so than the previous time, Pamela informed her that she would be leaving with Mark, adding in a gentler tone, “Is it okay?”

  “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ll just take a cab.” Of course it’s not okay. I came here for you.

  “Oh really? Yay! Thanks, you’re the best!” Pamela clasped her hands.

  “Yeah, you’re the best, Lisa!” Mark agreed.

  She didn’t bother correcting him. She’d be impressed if he remembered Pamela’s name come morning. She headed outside, relieved to have survived the supposedly fun evening out. She was looking through her purse for her cellphone to call a cab when she realized her wallet was missing. Could this night get any worse? Emotionally coerced by friend/coworker to go out? Check. Rejected by handsome stranger totally rocking mixed signals? Check. Ditched by said friend/coworker for obvious douche bag? Triple check. As for the icing on the cake, the case of the missing wallet… Laura would have gotten much more irritated if she hadn’t been used to so much worse. As she lit a cigarette to weigh her options, and walking was not one of them, he reappeared again.

  “You’re still here.”

  It wasn’t a question, more of a happy observation. And just like that, her insides were swarming with butterflies.

  “Well… I wasn’t here the whole time… I went to look for my friend inside… Turns out she’s ditched me.”

  “I meant at the club.”

  “Oh… yeah, of course… I mean no, I’m leaving, or I’m trying to. Turns out I lost my wallet too.” She offered him a self-deprecating smile.

  “So… a great night.”

  “Yeah, you could say that again.” She let out a soft chuckle under his amused gaze.

  “I’m Kayne.” He offered his hand.

  “Laura, nice to meet you.” She shook his hand, reminded of its warmth and firm grasp.

  “Do you need money for a cab?”

  “Oh no… I couldn’t possibly. No, I’ll just walk… It’s not that far…” she said unconvincingly.

  He just gave her the look, like even he knew she didn’t believe that for a second. He shook his head with playful disapproval and, reaching into his wallet, pulled out a fifty-dollar bill.

  “That should cover it,” he said, handing it to her.

  “No. Seriously, I can’t take your money,” she said adamantly, almost offended. Why couldn’t he just offer her a ride… like normal people?

  “Where you heading?”

  “Close to the university. It’s not that far. Seriously, I could walk…” “Hmm…” he uttered, unconvinced, and visibly entertained as he put the
money back in his wallet and turned around. He pressed his car starter and started walking toward a granite Audi SUV, leaving Laura feeling abandoned and confused on the sidewalk. “You coming?” he asked, barely turning his head back to her, showing her a glimpse of his smirk.

  Thank you! She thought he’d never offer, and damned if she asked. She caught up to him, smiling away. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  He responded with a sly smile, offering her his hand to help her into the car. He turned on the radio once they were inside. She began to chat away, jittery, the entire time, wondering if he would ask for her number. He turned to her from time to time, restraining a smirk, amused by her nervousness. At some point he made a turn off route then turned to her, resting his hand very gently on the top of her knee, for just a few seconds.

  “Listen, Laura, I have to drop off something. It’s literally two blocks down. Do you mind if we make a quick stop?”

  “No, no, of course not. Please, go ahead.” She was still giddy from his touch, from all the possibilities playing in her head, and honestly, she welcomed the delay if it meant more time with him. This neighborhood wasn’t the best, and the street he parked on looked even shadier. He smiled warmly at her. “Well, it’s here. Do you want to come with me, or would you rather wait in the car?” She looked around wearily. She didn’t want to be alone. “Hmm… I’ll go with you. If that’s okay?” she asked uncertainly.

  He answered with a soft chuckle and, after opening the door on her side, offered his hand.

  ***

  He had never seen her smile as much as she had in this past half hour. She really had a gorgeous smile. He took some pride in knowing that he’d gotten so many out of her for himself. He felt her tense from the moment they entered the building. He was walking fast, and she was struggling to keep the pace. The charade would be over soon. They got to a double door, and she threw him an inquisitive look. He could tell she knew something was off. For starters, he wasn’t carrying anything, but she made no mention of it. He did feel a few furtive stares burning his back on the long walk down the corridor. By that point, he knew she had followed him against her better judgment. He opened one of the doors and ushered her inside, with a ladies first kind of gesture. She smiled nervously but obeyed.