by Liwen Y. Ho
A Single Spark
The Spark Brothers Series Book 1
Liwen Y. Ho
Contents
1. Aiden
2. Abby
3. Aiden
4. Abby
5. Aiden
6. Abby
7. Aiden
8. Abby
9. Aiden
10. Abby
11. Aiden
12. Abby
13. Aiden
14. Abby
15. Aiden
16. Abby
17. Aiden
18. Abby
19. Aiden
20. Abby
21. Aiden
Epilogue
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Liwen Y. Ho
A Single Spark
Copyright © 2018 by Liwen Y. Ho. All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Victorine Originals
Interior Design: Liwen Y. Ho
Publisher: 2 Square 2 Be Hip
First Edition
Created with Vellum
For my awesome Early Bird Launch Team members. Thank you for reading, reviewing, and believing in my stories. I am so grateful!
Chapter One
Aiden
Aiden Spark hunched over in his chair, his head in his hands. His cell phone dinged with another incoming text. Ding, ding! Two more messages came in, one after the other.
“Leave me alone,” he muttered under his breath.
He picked up his phone and swiped open the text bubbles. As expected, he saw the names of his four younger brothers. They had even texted him in birth order.
Brandon: Taking an editing break and thought I’d see how you’re doing.
Colin: Stop by for ice-cream any day this week, on the house.
Darren: Praying for you in between calls today.
Evan: Sending you a hug from Hollywood, big bro.
He imagined each brother texting him, then telling the next one down the line it was his turn. Actually, he didn’t need to imagine it; he knew that’s what happened. It had been the same drill every September fourth for the past decade. Ten years since the love of his life had passed away.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he managed to hold back his tears. It wouldn’t do much for his professional life if his colleagues found him weeping during office hours. He already got enough slack for being the only male professor in his college’s women’s studies program. His female coworkers adored him. The male professors in the surrounding departments? Not so much.
His students, on the other hand, would probably fall over themselves to come to his rescue. He saw the way the female undergrads—who made up ninety-five percent of his classes—looked at him. His lectures were known for their near-perfect attendance, and he was sure it wasn’t because the material was that fascinating.
The way he presented the material though? That’s what drew people in. Being on stage was the only time he felt alive anymore. He taught with passion, but he also had what the tabloids once referred to as, “The Spark”. A way about him that drew everyone’s attention when he entered a room. Some called it charisma; others pointed to his smile and dimples. Whatever it was, made him the most popular teacher on campus.
At least one part of his life was going the way it was supposed to.
The other part of his life that hadn’t gone as planned was memorialized in a single picture. He scrolled through his phone and opened the photo album. Mandy, his high school sweetheart, stared back at him, a bright smile lighting up her face. The photo was taken the day before graduation and the month before her diagnosis. Six months later, her beautiful brunette curls would fall out from chemo and the life in her blue eyes would disappear. A year later, she was gone.
Aiden rubbed one hand down his face, then wiped his damp palm along his slacks. He checked the time, noting his last appointment was late. It was better this way. Talking about women only reminded him of the one woman he had ever loved and ever would love. Maybe he was being melodramatic, but he couldn’t change how he felt.
His brother Brandon joked that he should stop being a living, breathing Nicholas Sparks book, a love story with a sad ending. It was a funny thing for a romance author to say. But Brandon wrote fictional stories with unrealistic, happily-ever-afters. Life wasn’t like that. No, life gave you so many wonderful, unbelievable things, then snatched them away when you least expected it.
Aiden shook his head. Stop it, that wasn’t true, he told himself. That’s not what the Bible said. Even in Job’s darkest times, he still believed God to be faithful and good. In his own life, he tried to believe it as well. Tried, being the key word.
He’d grown up in a Christian family with dedicated parents who not only taught him about Jesus, but lived out His teachings. He’d grown up in a loving, secure bubble, so much so that he struggled to stay upright once it burst. He’d had to rebuild his faith from the ground up after Mandy died, which had included a period of denying God. He’d partied too much and run with the wrong crowd, then left all of that once he hit rock bottom. Now, at age thirty-two, he was finally feeling more grounded. Except for that one day a year—today.
His phone rang with an incoming call. Candace. The name alone made him cringe. She’d already left him two voicemails. He answered, knowing he couldn’t avoid her forever. She was as stubborn as her sister had been. “Hey.”
A bubbly voice came over the line. “Aiden, hi! You finally picked up. Do you know how many times I’ve called you today? Two times before breakfast, once before lunch, and twice after. How are you, brother?”
As a food critic in the San Francisco Bay Area, Candace always talked in reference to meals of the day. She also insisted on calling him her honorary brother, even though he and Mandy never got the chance to marry. It was a kind, yet cruel, gesture.
“I’m great.” He attempted to smile to sound happier than he really was. “How are you? What restaurants are you checking out today?”
“There’s a French place that opened up not too long ago. It’s in downtown Palo Alto, a couple of exits away from your school. You should check it out sometime. Bring a date.”
He sneered at her not-so-subtle hint. Five years ago, she’d started pushing him to meet women, saying how it wasn’t healthy for him to still be mourning her sister. Mandy would’ve wanted him to live his life, she’d reminded him. He resented the fact that she was right. Mandy had said so herself in their last conversation before she fell into a coma. Even still, he didn’t care to move on.
“Thanks for the tip, Candace. Hey, sorry to cut this short, but I need to go. I have a student coming in for office hours.”
“If you do, she’s late,” Candace retorted. “It’s twenty-five past the hour and you only schedule appointments on the hour and never past three. If you want me to shut up and mind my own business, Aiden, just say so. I can take it. But before you do, let me remind you that Mandy wanted you to find love again. Don’t forget you promised her you would.”
“I …” H
e rolled his eyes and sighed. She had to bring that up again. How much did deathbed promises mean, anyway, especially a decade later? Why wouldn’t Candace accept the fact that he was fine being single?
“You’re loyal to a fault,” Candace continued, not bothering to let him finish his sentence. “That’s something my sister loved about you. But Aiden, life is about going with the flow. Things happen and you need to make the most of the situation. And may I remind you again that you promised Mandy you’d move … on!” She emphasized her last two words with a dramatic pause in between them.
“Are you finished?” Aiden dared to ask. Even though he’d studied women, it didn’t mean he was an expert on them. Far from it. Growing up in a family of boys had taught him one thing: Never argue with a woman—ever. He believed in self-preservation.
“Yes!” Candace announced in a giddy tone. She paused and lowered her voice. “Look Aiden, I miss Mandy, too, every single day. But there’s a reason God still has us here. We have a life to live. Mandy lived hers to the fullest as she was able. You need to as well.”
“I know.” Of course, he knew it in his head. And a little bit in his heart. Eating dinner by himself every night confirmed why God had created Eve; it wasn’t good for man to be alone. He did long for someone to share his life with. Maybe it was time to move on ... or to at least consider it. “I hear what you’re saying and I appreciate it. I-I’ll think about it. Okay?”
“That’s the spirit!” Her zeal had returned in full force. “I’m so glad we had this chat, Aiden. I expect to hear updates on your love life the next time I call.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up—”
“I’ve been praying for you, brother. You know what happens when you pray, don’t you?”
Aiden wouldn’t know. He had stopped talking to God on a regular basis when God stopped answering his prayers about Mandy. But he knew the words to say. It had been Mandy’s catchphrase. “Hearts change.”
“Exactly.” Candace sounded pleased. “I’ll talk to you soon, Aiden. Bye!”
He ended the call and shook his head. God help the man who ended up with Candace. He appreciated strong women—his own mother was one—but he had no idea what to do with them.
He checked his watch again. Three-thirty. He’d waited long enough for the student to show up. He checked the class list on his laptop and located her contact information. Squinting, he typed her number into his phone, along with the following message:
This is Professor Spark. You missed your appointment with me today. Let’s reschedule for another time this week. Please text me back when you receive this. Thank you.
He reread the words, then hit the send button, not realizing how much this message would soon change the course of his life.
Chapter Two
Abby
Abby Dearan sat down in her black swivel chair and kicked off her sneakers. She took a long chug of coffee from her travel cup before setting it down. She said a quick prayer, thanking God for creating caffeine, because that was the only thing keeping her eyes open at the moment. She was used to starting her days in the radio station at five every morning, but it did take her a while to get into what she called her “deejay groove”. Besides the long hours, she loved her work and couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Who wouldn’t love listening to Top 40 songs and chatting with listeners all day long?
After an hour of online research—checking out the latest celebrity gossip and prepping some giveaways—she heard loud footsteps enter the studio. She groaned inwardly. Her cohost had arrived. What used to be Mornings with Abby was now Mornings with Marcus and Abby. Ratings had gone up since Marcus came on board a few months ago, but it didn’t make the change any easier to swallow. Abby had worked hard to get a solo gig and had been doing well until the producers decided to add some variety—mainly, a man’s perspective—to the show. They said it was for the sake of bringing balance and to draw more male listeners. Apparently, Abby had been alienating them with her man-bashing. Was it her fault they couldn’t handle the truth?
“Mornin’, sunshine!” Marcus declared as he sat down beside her. “Any new prospects on the dating front?”
Abby turned to find her redheaded, blue-eyed partner grinning at her. She smiled back, trying to find it in her heart to show him some grace. She’d recently become a believer, kind of like beliebers who were dedicated Justin Bieber fans, but she was now a follower of Jesus. Thanks to her best friend, Danica’s, patience over the years, she’d finally accepted God’s unconditional love and forgiveness. Living it out, however, was an entirely different matter. She’d need a lifetime to figure out how to keep her snarky attitude in check.
Despite the fact he’d encroached on her workspace, Marcus wasn’t a bad guy. Even though they were both thirty-one, he was like the older brother she never had. He’d recently gotten engaged and was now on a quest to help her find a man. He’d convinced her to sign up for three dating apps, promising they’d work for her as well as they had for him. She had to admit that while he was a good DJ, he was a lousy dating coach.
“Hey yourself. And no, there’s nothing new to report, unless you’re counting the fourteen winks I got, which hardly qualify as proper dating etiquette. What man goes around winking at women in real life? That would be totally creepy.”
Marcus laughed. He squeezed one eye shut and asked, “You don’t find this appealing?”
“It’s a good thing our listeners can’t see you.” Abby rolled her eyes. “What happened to starting up normal conversations? One person says hi and the other person says hi back. A wink doesn’t say anything, except for, I’m too chicken to talk to you.”
“It’s supposed to say, I think you’re cute, and will you have pity on me and wink back so I know you’re interested before I work up the nerve to send you a real message.” He paused. “It might be hard for you to believe, but guys don’t take rejection well.”
She was about to roll her eyes again when something in her gut—or was it her spirit—stopped her. Okay, fine, men did have hearts, too. It was just that the men in her life had never cared about hers. Her dad had ditched her mom for another woman. One of her exes—the actor with a small role in a hit movie—dumped her during his fifteen minutes of fame because she wasn’t pretty enough for the red carpet. If good guys still existed, she hadn’t met one yet. Who knew if she ever would.
“Yeah, well, if a guy can’t handle rejection, he shouldn’t put himself out there in the first place.”
Marcus winced. “Ouch. You don’t mince words, do you? I sure hope there’s someone confident enough for you out there in the world.”
“I doubt it, but it doesn’t matter. I prefer being on my own.” She’d rather rely on herself—and God, of course—instead of another person. “Enough talk about my non-existent love life. Let’s go over today’s show.”
“All right. What do we have on the agenda?”
Abby pointed to the websites open on the computer screen in front of her and began catching him up on the news. After another half hour of going over their talking points, they put on their headsets and turned on their mics.
“A happy Tuesday to you all in the Bay Area,” Abby announced on the air. “We’ve got you covered for your morning commute. Don’t touch that dial. Marcus and I have the latest headlines coming up at ten past the hour.”
Halfway through their four-hour show, Abby got up to stretch. She took her phone out of her jacket pocket to check her texts. Her younger sister was starting a new job today and had promised to tell her all about it. There were no new messages, but there was an old one she’d received yesterday afternoon. She swiped it open and read it again.
This is Professor Spark. You missed your appointment with me today. Let’s reschedule for another time this week. Please text me back when you receive this. Thank you.
It was obviously a wrong number. She should’ve deleted the text, but for some reason, she hadn’t. Instead, she toyed with the idea of texting back. The pro
fessor sounded polite enough. The polite thing for her to do was let him know he’d reached the wrong person.
Abby twisted around to find Marcus peering over her shoulder. “Are you being nosy?”
“I was wondering what it was that had you so entranced. Did you get winked at again?”
“I’m hardly entranced. Curious, is all.” She held up the phone for him to read. “I was debating whether to reply.”
“A professor? I say go for it. The guy sounds nice. He’s got good spelling and grammar, at least.”
She wrinkled her nose. “What makes you think it’s a man? A woman could very well be a professor.”
He held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “Hey, I didn’t say it was definitely a man. I just assumed—but you’re right, it could be a woman. Either way, I’m sure he or she would appreciate a text back.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off.” Abby sighed. Why wasn’t she gentle and peaceable like her sister? Not only had Emma inherited their mom’s gorgeous red locks, she’d gotten her sweet spirit as well. All Abby had gotten was their good-for-nothing father’s unruly dark hair, poor eyesight, and bad temper. She pushed up her glasses with the palm of her hand. “You’re right, I’ll reply.” She paused. “You don’t think this is a spam text, do you?”
Marcus shrugged. “Why don’t you look the number up online?”
