by Liwen Y. Ho
Abby returned to her seat, her curiosity growing even greater. “Good idea.” She opened a new browser on her computer and punched in the professor’s number. After a couple of seconds, a search result popped up. Pacific College in Palo Alto. That was only an hour away from their studio here in San Francisco, give or take thirty minutes, depending on traffic.
“It’s a legit number,” Marcus remarked. “If you want to be even more sure, go to the school’s website and see if there really is a Professor Spark.”
She was one step ahead of Marcus. She had already Googled the name, along with the college’s name. Up popped a link to a page of faculty headshots, names, and job titles. The photo for Professor Spark was missing, but underneath the blank space, it read Spark, Z., Assistant Professor. “Whoever this person is really wants to remain anonymous. Everyone else has their photo and whole name listed. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Maybe they like their privacy. Plenty of stars are like that.”
“That’s because they have paparazzi following them twenty-four seven. Why would a college professor care?” Noting that the song playing on the air was almost over, she put her headset back on. “I bet there’s a story behind this. And I’m going to find out what it is.”
“Oh boy, I had a feeling you’d say that. So, you’re gonna text him back?”
“Yup. Right now.” Her thumbs flew over her phone screen as she typed out a sentence and hit the send button. When she finished, she held it up for Marcus to see.
His brows shot up as he read, “What class is this for again?” Shaking his head in disbelief, he remarked, “Ouch, that’s kind of insulting. Now he thinks this student doesn’t even remember who he is.”
“That’s the point, Marcus. How else will I get any answers?” She drummed her fingers impatiently on her desk. “Now I just have to wait for him to reply.”
Marcus rubbed his chin. “There might be another way. I bet you some of our listeners go to Pacific College. They could find out for you who this Professor Spark is.”
Abby’s eyes grew wide with delight. “Why didn’t I think of that? Brilliant thinking, Marcus.”
He winked. “Not bad for a guy, right?”
Grinning, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, but please stop with the winking.” She then turned on her mic and announced, “Hey, 103.1 listeners, I’ve got a favor to ask you all.”
Chapter Three
Aiden
Aiden eyed the cafe menu written in chalk on the far wall. He glanced at his watch, then at the front door. His brother, Brandon, walked in, right on time, which for him was usually ten minutes late.
Brandon greeted him with a wave as he approached the table. He gave him a quick hug and smiled apologetically. “Hey, bro. My treat since I’m late again. You want your usual?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“All righty. One bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich and one medium latte coming right up.”
“Thanks.” Aiden watched his brother as he walked up to the counter to place their order. Only eleven months apart, he and Brandon had always been close, but his Irish twin was about as different from him as humanly possible. He was the only Spark brother to inherit their mom’s blond hair and blue eyes. He was also tone deaf and time-challenged, as he liked to refer to his tardiness. But he was the brother Aiden felt the most comfortable with, which is why he’d dragged himself out of bed to meet up with him today.
Brandon soon returned with their food and placed it on the table. “Do you want to say grace, or should I?”
“You can do the honors.”
Placing a hand on Aiden’s shoulder, Brandon prayed, “Heavenly Father, thank you for this glorious day and for providing this nourishment for our bodies. I pray you would grant the same for our souls and help us know we’re not alone. Thank you. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Aiden opened his eyes. He took a bite of his sandwich to hide the smirk on his face. He appreciated Brandon’s heartfelt words, but he’d heard them before and had yet to see them come to fruition. His soul felt as bland and flavorless as the eggs in his mouth tasted. The couple of days after the anniversary of Mandy’s death were always a struggle to get through, and today was no exception. It usually took him a good week to get out of his funk. He swallowed and washed the food down with a long sip of coffee.
“So, how are you doing?”
He met his brother’s eyes and shrugged. “Okay.”
“Do anything … different yesterday?”
“Not really.”
Brandon opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, then shoved his bagel into his mouth. After a few bites, he cleared his throat. “Can you believe it’s been ten years?”
Aiden knew his brother had been working up the nerve to bring Mandy up. No one seemed to know how to talk about her anymore, if they should avoid the topic or dive head in. He preferred the latter. “Yeah. I got your text yesterday and everyone else’s, too. Thanks for that.”
“Of course.”
“Candy called me, too.” He shook his head in amusement, remembering their conversation. “I think she has too much time on her hands.”
Brandon’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name. “She makes time for the important things. So, any thoughts about what she talked to you about?”
His brother’s casual tone didn’t fool him. “No wonder she backed off so easily. She asked you to follow-up with me, didn’t she?”
“She may have mentioned something about you needing a little push. And maybe a date,” he added, along with a fake cough. “So, how about it?”
Aiden didn’t like the grin on his brother’s face. “How about what?”
“How about a little help getting back into the dating game?” Brandon asked in between bites. “Before you say no, hear me out. I know a great girl, her name’s Danica and she owns a bookstore in Mountain View. She helped me when I did a book signing last month. She loves to read, and so do you—”
Aiden cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I appreciate the thought, Bran, but I don’t think I’d be very good company right now. Classes just started and I’ve got a full course load, plus office hours.” He realized he still hadn’t heard back from the student who missed her appointment yesterday, and made a mental note to text her again. “Now’s not a good time to start a relationship—”
It was Brandon’s turn to cut him off. He narrowed his eyes and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m trying to help you out, bro. If you agree to go out with Danica, Candy will get off your back. If you don’t—” he shrugged “—well, don’t say I didn’t try to help. It’s your choice.”
Aiden palmed a napkin off the table and crumpled it in his fist. He didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. From the way Brandon talked, one would think he was referring to a muscled firefighter like their brother Darren, not a five-foot-two woman. “Do you really think that’s a credible threat?”
“Did you hear about the Italian restaurant that opened up a few weeks ago in Fremont?”
“Huh?”
“Exactly. You couldn’t have because it shut down after Candy gave them a bad review. The woman means business, Aiden.”
He scoffed. “Save the drama for your stories. I’ll be fine. I won’t pick up her calls. Problem solved.”
Brandon cocked his head to one side. His brows suddenly quirked as he looked in the direction of the cafe’s front door. “I wouldn’t speak so soon. The problem’s walking in right now,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
“You told her where we were meeting?”
“She caught me at a bad time. I was in the middle of writing a break-up scene when she called and I wanted to get off the phone.”
Aiden heard the click clack of high heels approach before he caught a whiff of a floral-scented perfume. He looked up to find a pretty brunette grinning at them. “Candy, what are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by to see my favorite brother.”
She gave Aiden a peck on the cheek before sitting down. “So, has Brandon convinced you yet or do you need more encouragement?”
“I was telling him how busy I am with school. I don’t have time to go on a date.”
Arms crossed against her chest, Candy pursed her red lips. “Aiden, do you have time to eat?”
“I …”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly, knowing exactly where she was leading the conversation. “But I take a lot of my lunches in my office. And I do a lot of prep work during dinner. There’s not much time for socializing ...” His voice trailed off in resignation under her knowing gaze.
“But you do have time to go out for breakfast.” She gave him a cheeky smile. She turned to Brandon and asked, “Would your friend be free for a breakfast date with Aiden?”
Brandon clamped his lips together to muffle his laughter. When he finally calmed down, he gave Candy a quick nod. “I’m sure she would be. I’ll text her right now and set it up.”
“Fine,” Aiden cut in when he realized he wasn’t going to get out of the date. “But make it dinner. Breakfast is too early for socializing.”
Within ten minutes, Aiden had a date lined up for Friday night. And a throbbing headache. With any luck, it would turn into a full-blown migraine in three days and he could stay home.
Brandon and Candy left the cafe, but they both promised to check in with him. Aiden was sure they’d be texting him reminders about Friday. Candy had already offered him some outfit suggestions, and elastic pants were not an option. He glanced down at his gray sweats and sighed. It seemed like a lifetime ago when he’d cared about his wardrobe.
With only afternoon classes on Tuesdays, he decided to take his time going into the office. He swiped open his phone, debating whether to send a second text to the student from yesterday. He really didn’t like having to hand-hold his students, but since it was only the second week of school, he’d give them some grace. He reminded himself it was best to give people the benefit of the doubt because you never knew what they were going through in life.
To his pleasant surprise, a message popped up on the screen. His delight soon turned into disgust when he read the text. Why, the nerve! Instead of apologizing, this student had the gall to insult him. He shook his head in disdain. Well, if she couldn’t make the effort to remember which classes she’d signed up for, he wasn’t going to do her any favors of reminding her. Smirking, he quickly typed out his reply—The important one!—and sent it into cyberspace.
His attention soon shifted to the catchy pop song playing overhead. He found himself humming along, tapping his foot to the upbeat rhythm. Music always had the power to lift his spirits.
The fingers of his left hand began moving on their own, taking on different positions as if he were playing chords on a guitar. It’d been so long since he’d picked an instrument up, but some habits—or passions, rather—were hard to break.
Once the song finished, the smooth, lively voice of a female deejay came over the speakers. Good morning, Bay Area! Abby here, with my co-host, Marcus. Thank you to everyone who called in yesterday to help me with my texting dilemma.
The male deejay chimed in, We’ve got the best listeners. They’re all rooting for you to solve this mystery. Who is this mystery professor from Pacific College?
Aiden’s ears perked up. What in the world?
Abby continued talking: For those of you who missed out yesterday, here’s the scoop. I got a text from a professor asking me to meet him or her for office hours. Of course, it was sent to me by mistake, but I couldn’t help wondering who this person was. I did what anyone would do; I did a Google search. Now here’s the weird part. This professor is the only one on staff without a profile picture or first name listed.
Marcus chimed in: We’re all curious now what he or she looks like. So, if you’re a student at this school, or better yet, if you’re a student of one Professor Z. Spark, give us a call.
Aiden’s jaw dropped. It couldn’t be … Were they talking about him? Heat rose up his neck as his heart rate picked up speed. He hooked a finger inside the collar of his polo shirt, stretching it out to cool himself off. Had he really texted the wrong number? That would explain why his student hadn’t gotten back to him. But it would also mean his cover was at risk of being blown wide open. It would be hard to maintain his privacy if these deejays discovered he was Aiden Spark, lead singer of one of America’s hottest boy bands from years past.
It wasn’t hard to hide this fact from his students who’d been toddlers when Heartland climbed to number one on the Top 40 charts. Likewise, most of his colleagues had been too old to care. But these deejays were experts on the music scene. He’d done enough radio interviews to know it’d only be a matter of time before they figured out his identity.
So much for putting the past behind him.
Aiden gathered his belongings and headed out of the cafe. Ducking his head, he quickly got into his car and put on his shades. He turned on the engine and switched the radio to 103.1. The female deejay’s excited voice filled the interior of his car.
Marcus! I got another text from the professor!
All right. Let’s see if we can get to the bottom of Abby’s mystery. But first, let’s get an update on today’s weather.
Aiden groaned and let his head fall back onto the headrest. This was getting out of hand. Wasn’t there some juicy celebrity gossip to focus on instead of him? He dug his phone out of his pocket and swiped to his text messages. It was time to end this nonsense, once and for all.
Chapter Four
Abby
Abby glanced up to see one of the producers giving her a thumbs-up through the glass partition of the studio. The production panel lit up like lights on a Christmas tree with all the phone calls coming in. This professor dilemma was working like a charm, drawing in almost as many listeners as the time she’d gone on a ranting spree about her ex-boyfriend. She shuddered, vowing to never air her dirty laundry on the radio like that again. It’d been next to impossible for her to get a date afterwards. That’s why she’d resorted to online dating, where she could remain as anonymous as possible, separate from her identity as a man-hating deejay.
Her phone suddenly vibrated. No, could it be? The professor had texted her again! A giddy feeling shot through her body, putting a smile on her face. She felt like a teenage girl hearing back from her crush, which was a ridiculous notion, considering she had no idea who this Z. Spark was. It might be a middle-aged woman, or worse, a married man, for all she knew. But at least she was one step closer to finding out.
She announced the update to their listeners, then sat back as they cut to a commercial break. Swiping her screen open, she proceeded to read the reply. She immediately scoffed. “Someone sure thinks highly of himself.”
“Huh? So, you know it’s a guy?”
“Let’s just call it a gut feeling.” Turning her phone to face Marcus, she gave him a moment to read the one-liner.
Marcus winced. “I hate to say it, but he has a right to feel insulted.”
Abby shot Marcus a look that quickly silenced him. “I’ll bet you, he’s one of those scary professors who never grades on a curve.” She wrinkled her nose. “He’d rather flunk half the class than give you a pass.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Either way, for the student’s sake, you should reply and let him know it’s the wrong number. We wouldn’t want someone to really flunk the class because of this mix-up.”
“Fine, okay.” She began typing out a message, then stopped when three little dots flashed on her screen. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Hey, Marcus, he’s writing me another text.”
The following words showed up: Please stop talking about me on the radio. I don’t appreciate the publicity. You should have let me know I had the wrong number.
Abby let out an exasperated huff. “No. Freaking. Way.”
“Uh-oh, I know what those words mean.” Marcus winced. “What happened?”
He eyed her with a raised brow. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“What do you think?”
“I have to admit the whole mystery of this has been kind of fun, but there might be a good reason why he wants to remain anonymous. We should respect his wishes.”
“And disappoint our listeners?” She checked the producer’s notes on the computer screen in front of them. “We’ve got two people on hold who say they’re in this professor’s class. We have to take the calls, Marcus. Aren’t you dying to find out who this person is?”
“All right, one call.” Marcus pointed at his headset to remind her they were going on the air soon. After a few seconds, he updated their listeners on the situation, then took the first call in the queue. “Hi there, you’re on the air with Marcus and Abby. Who are we speaking to?”
A young woman squealed with excitement. “I’m Jackie, a sophomore at Pacific College. Am I really on the radio?”
Abby adjusted her mic and joined the conversation. “Yes, you are, Jackie! So, I hear you have some insights for us about this Z. Spark. What can you tell us? Inquiring minds want to know.”
“I don’t know what Professor Spark’s first name is, but I can tell you that he’s pretty cool for an old guy.”
Marcus chuckled. “When you say old, how old are we talking about? Fifty, sixty? Older?”
Jackie paused. “I don’t know. Maybe forty? He still has all his hair and it’s not white or anything like that.”
“Girlfriend, forty is the new twenty. I wouldn’t go around calling the man old yet.” Abby made eye contact with Marcus and rolled her eyes. “Believe me, someday you’ll be nine years away from turning forty and hoping no one refers to you as old. Anyhow, tell us more. What does he look like?”