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“So?”
She pinned him with her gaze and turned up the Harper Presley sass. “So,” she hissed, “your niece is a neurodivergent thinker. It’s how her brain works and how she interacts with the world. There’s no right or wrong. There’s only finding what works and what brings her success. You want her to be successful, don’t you?”
He fiddled with the guitar’s tuning pegs. “The school says she has trouble with reading and behavioral issues because of the trauma of losing her parents. They didn’t say anything about being a neuro-whatever.”
She was ready to yank that guitar out of his hands and hit him upside the head with it.
She gathered herself. “The term is ‘neurodivergent learner.’ And if you love Aria, you’ll let me help her, and let me show you how to help her, too. She doesn’t have to be frustrated. She can thrive with the right tools.”
“She’ll be fine. She’s a tough kid. If you haven’t noticed, she can play anything she hears on the piano. She’s also not half bad on the guitar either, and she’s never taken a lesson.”
He wasn’t listening.
“I’m not denying or discounting that. I was with her in the garage. She’s a musical prodigy, for sure, but she’s also hurting. And she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to struggle or hide who she is.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” he bit out, his words dripping with bitterness. “How many people scrutinize your every move?”
And then it came together.
Aria had mentioned she and Landon didn’t like writing things down.
Landon hadn’t put out any new tracks since Heartthrob Warfare took a break years ago.
And even with everything on the line, the man still hadn’t written anything new for Red Rocks Unplugged.
“This isn’t only about Aria, is it?” she pressed, studying her scowling husband.
The man didn’t say a word. Not a single solitary sound passed his lips.
If he thought that playing the part of the aloof pop star would deter her, he was about to receive a rude awakening.
“Maybe you’ll respond to this,heartthrob.”
“And what’s that,bonbon?” he snarled.
He wasn’t softening her up with that smart-ass retort.
It was time to hit him with a zinger.
She looked him square in the eyes. “I know what you’re hiding.”
