by Liwen Y. Ho
“Hey, we’ve got the next winner on the line. Do you want to take it?”
She opened her eyes at Marcus’s prompting. “Sure,” she answered him as she pressed the button to take the call. “Hi there, Abby here. Guess what, you’re caller ten!”
A breathless female voice shrieked in excitement. “I am? I can’t believe it!”
“Yes, you are. Why don’t you tell us your name and your story?”
“I’m Bria. I’ve been helping a friend who’s blind by recording myself reading her favorite author’s books to her. I read them chapter by chapter and upload the videos to YouTube.”
“That’s so cool, Bria. You sound like an awesome friend. So, what song would you like to request?”
“Is an old song okay? There’s a band I loved back in the day. They’re not together anymore, but I sometimes hear you guys play their songs.”
“Sure, go for it.”
“It’s Heartland’s See You Again. I love the lead singer’s voice. Is there any way you can tag Aiden Spark or the band? I don’t even know if they have any social media accounts.”
Abby gulped. The mere mention of Aiden’s name made her heart race. “I don’t know, but I’ll check. I’m a big fan of his, too.” In more ways than one, she hated to admit. “Thanks for calling in, Bria, and playing it forward. Listen for your request coming up next.”
She switched off her mic and cued up the next song. When she glanced up from her computer, she saw Marcus looking at her curiously. A little too curiously. “Yes? I know you want to say something, so say it.”
He shrugged. “I was wondering how you plan on getting in touch with Aiden Spark. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any online presence, aside from his mysterious faculty profile.”
“He’s gotta have something. Everyone has a virtual footprint. I’ll try Twitter or Instagram. Or maybe Myspace.”
“Okay, but what if he doesn’t exist online? How are you going to let him know about the campaign then?”
“I’ll worry about it when we get to that point—” she narrowed her eyes “—if we get to that point.”
He wiped the grin off his face and ducked his head.
Abby rolled her eyes. What was Marcus trying to imply? If she didn’t find him online, she’d have to reach out to him personally? That was not gonna happen … right?
Wrong.
Half an hour and a dozen web searches later, she had no leads whatsoever. Aiden Spark was nowhere to be found online. How he’d managed to stay off social media was nothing short of a miracle. Especially for a celebrity—or former celebrity as he liked to insist.
Abby sat back in her chair and groaned. “Okay, you win,” she muttered to Marcus. “I can’t find him anywhere. What am I supposed to do now?”
Marcus shot her a smug smile. “You have the guy’s number, don’t you?”
“I am not calling Aiden Spark.”
“Text him then.”
She glared at him. “No. Freaking. Way. That’s how this whole craziness started, remember?”
“But what about Bria and her good deed? Shouldn’t you help her pay it forward? You did promise you’d find Aiden for her.”
“I hardly promised anything, Marcus. And stop trying to make me feel guilty.”
“It’s your conscience talking, not me,” he added with a wink.
He could call it whatever he wanted because Abby was not going to give in to the urge to pick up her phone. She didn’t miss him. Nope, the only reason she’d contact Aiden Spark was to spread goodness. It was all for a worthy cause. That’s what she told herself hours later when she dialed his number.
Chapter Seventeen
Aiden
Aiden opened his front door and ushered Brandon inside. He spotted the bag of Chinese take-out in his hands. His mouth watered at the savory smells wafting in the air between them. “You brought dinner? You’re the best. Thanks, Bran.”
Brandon eyed him curiously. “I always bring dinner.”
He took the bag from his brother and set the white cartons on the large dining table. Not bothering to grab a plate, he began picking at each one of them. He stopped eating—his wooden chopsticks halfway to his mouth—when he realized Brandon was staring at him. “Do you want some of this before I eat it all? I’m starving.”
“I can see that. No worries, I’ll take the fried rice.” He took a seat across from Aiden, an amused grin lighting up his eyes. He grabbed some chopsticks as well and took a box of for himself. “I’m glad your appetite’s back. I haven’t seen you this hungry in a long time.”
Aiden swallowed a hearty mouthful of chow mein. “Writing always makes me hungry. Must be all the brain cells I burn coming up with a melody.”
Brandon’s head whipped up at Aiden’s words. “You’re writing a song?” His question came out cautiously but tinged with excitement.
“Ever since I got home. The chorus came to me as I was driving and I got two verses down so far. I’m working on the bridge now.” He chewed his food as quickly as possible and washed it down with a glass of water. His fingers itched to get back to his guitar. He had forgotten Brandon was coming over for his usual Wednesday night dinner until the doorbell rang. His earlier annoyance at being interrupted disappeared as soon as he saw his brother had brought food over. At least now he’d have the sustenance to continue his songwriting.
“That’s fantastic, bro. I’m so happy for you.”
“It feels good to have the creative juices flowing again. What doesn’t feel good are my fingers.” Aiden held up the reddened fingertips of his left hand. “These are not guitar-friendly right now. But they will be soon enough. Give me ten days and I’ll have my calluses back.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Brandon smiled as he set his carton down. “The old Aiden is back. You’re back, man.”
“You’re calling me old?” Aiden quipped. “Need I remind you we’ll be the same age in a month?”
“You know what I’m talking about. I meant the old Aiden, as in the pop star Aiden, is back.”
He shook his head. “Don’t say that. I’m never going back to being that guy. I’m writing this song for myself and for myself only.”
Brandon shrugged. “I don’t care who you write it for as long as you keep writing.” He paused, thoughtfully. “You’re a different person when you write. I’ve missed that guy.”
“Different?” It had been so long since he’d picked up a guitar, much less written a song, he didn’t remember that part of himself. But Brandon obviously did. “Different how?”
“It’s like you have a sense of purpose. There’s an energy about you that comes from deep inside. You’re happy, man.”
He smirked. His brother made it sound like he hadn’t been happy before today. Well, there was some truth to that statement. Okay, there was a lot of truth to it. It’d been a long time since he’d felt excited about anything, especially music. Music had been his enemy for the past decade, but today it felt like the blood rushing through his veins, giving him life. “It’s been a while since I felt a drive to create. I had the worst writer’s block for a very long time.”
“I know what that’s like,” Brandon mused. “It’s the hardest thing to get back into the groove. That’s when you need a muse to jump start your inspiration. It looks like you found yours.”
Aiden took the opportunity to stuff his mouth full to the point where it made talking impossible. His brother’s tone suggested there was more to his words than he was letting on, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to address the issue. Or the person at the heart of the issue: Abby.
It’d been a couple of days since she had left the hospital without so much as a goodbye. Maybe she hadn’t gotten over the way he’d mistreated her. Maybe she didn’t want anything more to do with him. Either possibility made his heart ache, and it was regret and longing that drove him to write. She was possibly the worst muse he’d ever had. He couldn’t get her off his mind, and it was driving him crazy. Crazy to the point where he’
d started praying again, if only to vent his frustrations to God. On second thought, she had to be his best muse to get him to open up his heart again.
Brandon opened another carton of food and ate an egg roll before he spoke again. “You know what your muse is, don’t you?”
He raised a brow and played dumb. “Who knows. It could be anything.”
“Anything? Obviously, it was you hitting your head at the hospital. It knocked some inspiration into you—literally,” he chuckled, looking pleased at his own joke.
“Very funny.” Aiden rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. Thankfully, his scan had come out clear and there were no lasting effects from the fall, other than some bruising.
“I’m kidding. Of course it’s a woman.” Brandon smiled. “It’s usually a woman.”
Aiden shrugged casually. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“Maybe not? Come on, Aiden. Both Colin and Darren said Abby looks just like Mandy. Seeing her must’ve triggered something in you. She brought you back to life.”
“Have you been watching those Hallmark movies again? My life isn’t nearly as dramatic. It wasn’t like I was dying and she was the doctor who gave me CPR.” Although the idea of her giving him mouth-to-mouth didn’t seem like such a bad one. And here he was thinking about kissing a woman he barely knew. He shoved the crazy notion to the back of his mind, virtually locked it up, and threw away the key. “The reality is, we met because of a text I sent her by accident. We got set up on a blind date that went south. We met up again when she got into a car accident, and I had a panic attack, fainted, and knocked myself out. It sounds more like a satire if you ask me, not a romance.”
“Oh, but you left out the part where you fell in love,” Brandon snickered. “So, did you fall for her over text, at the restaurant, or in the hospital?”
Aiden scoffed. “Maybe you should start writing comedy since you think you’re so funny.”
“It’s true though, isn’t it? You like her. You wouldn’t be avoiding the question if you didn’t.” He cocked his head as he mused, “This would make for a really interesting storyline, now that I think about it. You’ve got the plot twists, the conflict, and most of all, the angst. This could be a bestseller!”
“You are not writing about me, Brandon.”
“Of course not. I’ll change out the names and places,” he joked.
Aiden shot him a glare. “What’s gotten into you today? You are being way too funny for your own good and my good, too. Is there a girl to blame for this?”
“Hey, don’t change the topic. We’re talking about you.”
Brandon sounded nonchalant, but the way his brother’s cheeks reddened told Aiden he’d hit a nerve. So, there was a woman in the picture? “Is it Danica?”
“What? No way. Danica’s a friend, a good friend, but nothing more. I’m working on setting her up with Darren.”
“Oh yeah? You might want to make it clear to her then. I’m pretty sure she’s interested in you.”
“Why in the world would you think that?”
“From the way she talked about you when we were on our date. Abby also confirmed it. But you have to promise not to tell Danica that’s how you know.”
“You’re trying to protect Abby now? I knew it. You do like her. So, when are you going to ask her out again?”
Aiden wiped his mouth and stuffed the napkin and his pair of chopsticks inside the now-empty take-out container. He set it on the table and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not.”
“Why not?”
“She obviously doesn’t want anything to do with me. She ran from the hospital room like she was escaping the plague. I’m not going to ask her out so she can reject me again.” He could only take so much heartbreak. Not that he was truly heartbroken over Abby, but she reminded him so much of Mandy, he couldn’t help feeling invested in their relationship, as non-existent as it was. “If she was interested, she wouldn’t have left. She didn’t even care if I had a head injury or not.”
“She did ask how you’re doing.”
“What? When?”
“Colin said Candy got Abby’s number before she left the hospital. They’ve been texting each other ever since. She asked how your scan went.”
Aiden wasn’t sure which idea he was more curious about, his brother and his old girlfriend’s sister being an item, or Abby showing concern for him. On second thought, it was definitely the latter. “Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Brandon repeated with much more conviction. “You should give her a call, see how she’s doing after her accident.”
“I … I don’t know.”
“Or at least text her.”
He quirked a brow. “That’s how this whole mess began, remember?”
“But it would make for an even cooler climax to the story than the one I was thinking of writing.” He dug his phone out of his jacket pocket and began typing. “I need to take some notes so I don’t forget.”
“You’re serious about making this into a book?”
“As serious as I am about seeing you happy. If you don’t want to write your own happy ending, I will.” He muttered to himself as he typed. “Reconcile with text message …”
Ring!
Aiden traded curious looks with Brandon before reaching for his phone which sat on the far end of the table. The screen lit up and the sender’s name—Deejay—immediately caught his eye. No way. “It can’t be.”
“What? Who is it?”
He held his phone up. Did Brandon or Candy put Abby up to this? “Was this your idea?”
Brandon’s jaw dropped. “It wasn’t me, bro, I promise. I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried.” He quickly dropped his gaze and began typing furiously. “This is fantastic.”
Fantastic, it was not. If anything, it was freaky. What was he supposed to do now?
“Aiden, answer it before she hangs up!”
He gestured toward the hall to indicate he’d take the call in private. When he reached his bedroom, he closed the door. Swallowing hard, he swiped the screen to the left and answered, not knowing what to expect. Any hesitations he’d had about taking the call disappeared though as soon as he heard Abby’s lovely voice.
Chapter Eighteen
Abby
“Abby,” he greeted her in an upbeat tone. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Abby needed to get a grip. Aiden’s voice had started a flurry of butterflies in her stomach as soon as he’d answered the phone. She fell back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her posture reminded her too much of her younger self, the teenager who stared longingly at Aiden Spark’s poster on her bedroom wall. She pushed away those memories and sat up. She was an adult now with a job to do. “Do you have a minute to talk? It won’t take long.”
“Of course.” Aiden paused. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“Good, thanks.”
“Great,” she began, trying to sound enthusiastic but professional. “So, I’m calling for business purposes. My cohost and I started a campaign on the air today called Play It Forward.” She proceeded to fill him in on the details, starting with the phone calls they’d received that day and ending with Bria’s nomination of him.
Aiden paused for a beat as if he were taking all the information in. “Wow, I’m surprised someone thought of me after all these years.”
“I think more people would if they could find you online. I tried to tag you on social media, but you are nowhere to be found. That’s why I had to call you.”
He chuckled. “You make calling me sound like a bad thing. I hope it’s not. I’m really happy you did.”
Was he flirting or just being friendly? His tone made her wonder. “Well, texting you would’ve been worse. We both know how much trouble that’s caused us.” She decided to get to the point of her call. “Anyhow, can we count on you to play it forward?”
“Sure thing. I’d be honored to be involved. I bet you’ll be able to make a huge impact with all the
se artists supporting you.”
“Right?” His positive reaction boosted her confidence. Excitement flowed through her veins, making her chattier than she’d planned to be. “I feel the same way. We already had such a successful day. You wouldn’t believe how excited people were. The calls kept coming in, and the stories people shared would melt even the Grinch’s heart. It’s amazing being a part of something so encouraging.” She bit her lower lip, suddenly feeling shy. “Anyway, thank you for doing this.”
“You’re very welcome. Thank you for coming up with this idea.”
“I’d like to take all the credit, but I have you to thank for it.”
“Me? How so?”
"You know the verse about iron sharpening iron? You were like my iron, sharpening me and pushing me to do more. You were right, I do have a great platform. I’m going to use it for good from now on.”
“I’m your personal iron? I like the sound of that.”
Her whole body warmed at his words. She fanned herself with one hand and tried to play it cool. This was business, nothing more. He could say whatever sweet things he wanted to. She was not going to let him affect her. “Not mine specifically. A iron. An iron? You know what I mean.”
He chuckled softly. “I do. I could say the same about you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.
“What you said to me at the hospital really made me think.” He cleared his throat before he continued. “I know I’ve been hanging onto my grief for a long, long time. So long that I’d forgotten God’s promises. You’re the first person who helped me remember them. No one’s bothered to challenge me about my faith, or lack of it, since Mandy died.” He sighed. “Well, to be fair, I never shared everything I was going through with anyone, including my brothers. Growing up, they’d always looked up to me in whatever I did, academically, socially, spiritually. It didn’t feel right to disappoint them, you know? I’m the oldest; I have a role to fulfill.”