letter, and tell me who he is? It’s not like he doesn’t know where I live.”
    “I don’t know, Brittany, maybe he will. You could give him a taste of his own medicine, though.”
    “Like what? I don’t even know who he is let alone where to find him.”
    “You heard what Paul said, call him down at the station and ask him if Sean left an address or phone number. Maybe there was a letterhead on the fax he sent,” Susan told her. “Paul is a good friend…he’ll do it for you. Once you have something to go on, you can dedicate a song to him in his home town.”
    “I don’t know, Susan. I mean, I know Paul would give me the address, if there is one, but I’d have to explain everything to him. Besides, what song could I possibly dedicate to him? I don’t know anything about him.”
    “Paul won’t repeat anything you don’t want him to. You better call him before he leaves the station, though. As for what song to choose, well, we’ll think of something, if and when you figure out how to reach him.”
    “Do you think it’ll work?”
    “I don’t know, but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?” Susan replied. She hung up the phone, leaving Brittany alone with her thoughts.
    Brittany knew Paul Mathews, the DJ for “Late Night Love Songs,” well enough to know what Susan said about him was true. He would help her find Sean, if he could, and he wouldn’t repeat her story to anyone.
    Brittany smiled, remembering how hard Susan had tried to fix her up with Paul. They’d finally agreed to go out on a date just so Susan would stop pestering them about it. She and Paul discovered that they liked many of the same things and enjoyed each other’s company. That is, until the night Paul had walked her to the door and kissed her goodnight. They both laughed and agreed it was like kissing a relative…the chemistry just wasn’t there. So, over the years, even though they’d become close, they treated each other like siblings. Brittany knew in her heart she could depend on Paul and, without another moment’s hesitation, she picked up the phone and called him.
    “Paul, this is Brittany. How are you?”
    “Hey, girl! Where you been hiding all week, brat? You haven’t been down here to see me in ages.”
    “I know. I’ve been trying to behave myself lately.”
    “Somehow, I doubt that’s even possible,” Paul snorted.
    “Did you just snort at me?”
    “Yeah, I did. Just the thought of you staying out of trouble is redonkulous!”
    “Well, I do need to ask you for a favor, sweetheart. Have you got a few minutes?” Brittany asked coyly.
    “Sweetheart? It must be bad. I knew you were up to something, kiddo. Hold on a sec,” he said. After a long pause and a few clicks in the background, he returned to the phone. “You’ve got ten minutes. What kind of mischief are you getting me into this time?”
    “Well, you know the letter you read tonight from SD…”
    “Oh, no! Not you, too? This guy could be dog ugly and dirt poor. Just because he can string a few words together, every skirt in town wants to hear his dedications again! I swear if…”
    “Paul! I do not want to hear them again! Geez! Clam down! Jealous much?” Brittany knew Paul was just teasing her. If there was one romantic man left on the planet, it was Paul. Except, of course, the mysteriously intriguing Sean.
    “No!” Paul sulked. Brittany laughed at his petulant answer.
    “Paul, I want…no, I need to know who wrote that letter and where it came from.”
    “Why do you need to know? You know I can’t give out that kind of information; it’s against company policy. However, considering it’s you, I’d still need a darn good explanation as to why I should tell you. Tom would have my head on a platter, otherwise.”
    “Darn! You would have to make this difficult, wouldn’t you?”
    “Sorry, babe. Them’s the rules and my job is on the line. Makes no difference that you’re the boss’s friend. What’s up?”
    “What would you say if

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