dream that might turn into nothing more than a heart-breaking illusion—not just professionally, but personally as well? Could she find the courage to reach out for the hand he offered?
The story of us, Ailee.
Liam’s words played through her spirit. A memory bloomed of the way he had looked at her, the smile that had curved his full lips. Aileen’s pulse hitched and her blood warmed. Words began to sing through her head, forming into a musical poem she knew she had to write down promptly or it would be lost.
Climbing into bed, she grabbed a thick leather journal from the headboard. Flipping it open, she nabbed a nearby pen. After propping a pillow behind her back, Aileen began to scrawl furiously, pouring the words and her heart onto the pages.
As the pen flew, a glow bloomed outward from the center of her chest, a richness that was foreign to her experience. Liam Douglas, the man she had treasured since her youth, had been captured by something in her performance and personality tonight. Plus, he savored their memories, the history they shared.
Everything he said was true and made perfect sense. She had been surprised by the enthusiasm of the crowd and humbled. Aileen’s spirit moved on the curls of a goal she had ached to embrace since her childhood—performing on stage. Its pursuit was being handed to her by a man who had always held her heart. She formed a chorus, stanzas that put feelings into smoothly patterned lyrics. She pictured eyes as rich and dark as a velvety green mountain. Aileen breathed deep, and his spicy, evocative essence filled her senses and elicited a tender ache. There was a spot in her body and soul that received him alone and waited for him alone.
Aileen shifted her legs beneath the blanket and nipped at the tip of her pen, re-reading the lines she had written. What she had created was a love song. Words had spun into a perfect cadence with her emotions, flowing from her fingertips without forethought or interruption. With her eyes gritty and heavy with a need for sleep, Aileen extinguished the light and re-fluffed the pillow once she stretched flat.
Flutters of longing followed her into her dreams.
6
Following a short, strong knock, the door to Liam’s office came open, and his assistant peeked inside. “They’re ready for you in the conference room, and the ladies have gathered as well. They’re in reception.”
His body temp ticked upward a few degrees. Liam nodded politely and gave her a smile. Once she closed the door, he dipped his head and blew out a quiet, steadying breath of air. He closed his eyes. For a few meaningful and necessary moments, he offered the upcoming meeting to God.
Still, Godly support or not, he couldn’t help being nervous. He was only human. He really wanted to make this crazy dream happen. In the span of mere days, the idea of Sisters in Spirit had all but consumed him. Refuting anxiety as best he could, Liam stood and paced to burn off excess energy.
It didn’t help much. He scrubbed a hand against the back of his neck. A stifled, edgy groan came out. He retrieved a dozen bound copies of the proposal from the corner of his desk and studied the bold-font title of the document that was now ready for distribution to the top brass at Zion’s Peak. It read, simply, Sisters in Spirit.
The moniker captured Liam’s imagination anew. The four women had been friends for decades, so close, so similar in belief and heart. At the same time, their personalities were as unique as could be and completely dissimilar from one another. Therein was the power of their connection.
That was a strong illustration. He needed to make use of it during the meeting. Something invigorating danced through his gut—something that had been missing for months on the job. Joy. Liam had always fed off the energy of spearheading the launch and discovery of talent. Now, doing so for Aileen Brewer and the girls was all the more reason why this pitch session
The story of us, Ailee.
Liam’s words played through her spirit. A memory bloomed of the way he had looked at her, the smile that had curved his full lips. Aileen’s pulse hitched and her blood warmed. Words began to sing through her head, forming into a musical poem she knew she had to write down promptly or it would be lost.
Climbing into bed, she grabbed a thick leather journal from the headboard. Flipping it open, she nabbed a nearby pen. After propping a pillow behind her back, Aileen began to scrawl furiously, pouring the words and her heart onto the pages.
As the pen flew, a glow bloomed outward from the center of her chest, a richness that was foreign to her experience. Liam Douglas, the man she had treasured since her youth, had been captured by something in her performance and personality tonight. Plus, he savored their memories, the history they shared.
Everything he said was true and made perfect sense. She had been surprised by the enthusiasm of the crowd and humbled. Aileen’s spirit moved on the curls of a goal she had ached to embrace since her childhood—performing on stage. Its pursuit was being handed to her by a man who had always held her heart. She formed a chorus, stanzas that put feelings into smoothly patterned lyrics. She pictured eyes as rich and dark as a velvety green mountain. Aileen breathed deep, and his spicy, evocative essence filled her senses and elicited a tender ache. There was a spot in her body and soul that received him alone and waited for him alone.
Aileen shifted her legs beneath the blanket and nipped at the tip of her pen, re-reading the lines she had written. What she had created was a love song. Words had spun into a perfect cadence with her emotions, flowing from her fingertips without forethought or interruption. With her eyes gritty and heavy with a need for sleep, Aileen extinguished the light and re-fluffed the pillow once she stretched flat.
Flutters of longing followed her into her dreams.
6
Following a short, strong knock, the door to Liam’s office came open, and his assistant peeked inside. “They’re ready for you in the conference room, and the ladies have gathered as well. They’re in reception.”
His body temp ticked upward a few degrees. Liam nodded politely and gave her a smile. Once she closed the door, he dipped his head and blew out a quiet, steadying breath of air. He closed his eyes. For a few meaningful and necessary moments, he offered the upcoming meeting to God.
Still, Godly support or not, he couldn’t help being nervous. He was only human. He really wanted to make this crazy dream happen. In the span of mere days, the idea of Sisters in Spirit had all but consumed him. Refuting anxiety as best he could, Liam stood and paced to burn off excess energy.
It didn’t help much. He scrubbed a hand against the back of his neck. A stifled, edgy groan came out. He retrieved a dozen bound copies of the proposal from the corner of his desk and studied the bold-font title of the document that was now ready for distribution to the top brass at Zion’s Peak. It read, simply, Sisters in Spirit.
The moniker captured Liam’s imagination anew. The four women had been friends for decades, so close, so similar in belief and heart. At the same time, their personalities were as unique as could be and completely dissimilar from one another. Therein was the power of their connection.
That was a strong illustration. He needed to make use of it during the meeting. Something invigorating danced through his gut—something that had been missing for months on the job. Joy. Liam had always fed off the energy of spearheading the launch and discovery of talent. Now, doing so for Aileen Brewer and the girls was all the more reason why this pitch session
Similar Books
