“You’ve got a lot of really great stuff here,” I said after clearing my throat.
“Sure do. I take frequent trips to Nashville to scope out the best instruments at some retailers up there.” He paused, but after a while, snapped his fingers. “I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me when you first walked in. But it is you. You’re Lena Clarkson.”
His pale blue eyes sparkled, and I didn’t have the heart to lie to him.
I gave him a tight smile. “I think you’re one of the first people to recognize me.”
He shook his head. “Nah. Us folks here in Harlington like to mind our business. Most of us, anyway. Say, can I get your autograph?”
My stomach twisted, and I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Um, sure, but I do have one condition.”
“What’s that?” he asked, looking like he’d won the lottery.
“Please don’t tell anyone I was here.”
To my surprise, his smile widened. “That’s not a problem at all.”
He hurried off after telling me he needed to grab something for me to sign. I felt a little relieved. Bradley seemed nice.
I continued to look around the store while I waited for him to come back. That was when I spotted a full-on production set on the left-side wall’s shelf. The bundle came complete with a small keyboard, microphone, speakers, and the rest of the equipment needed to produce music.
I reached out my hand and softly ran my fingers along the ivory keys of the keyboard.
“You’re not a producer. Leave that for the men who know what they’re doing.”
I yanked back my fingers when Nate’s words echoed in my mind.
“Stick to writing and performing. Those are your talents.”
I tried to swallow but couldn’t. Again, my vision started to blur.
“Interested in that set?”
Bradley’s voice behind me startled me, and I jumped before remembering where I was.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Bradley said. “Got this for you to sign.”
“Wow,” I whispered when I spotted the CD version of my latest album in his hands.
He chuckled. “I know. Who still purchases CDs anymore?”
“So that’s where all one of my CD sales went in the last few years,” I joked, still trying to shake off that moment I had looking at the producing equipment.
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“No. I still sell CDs at concerts and festivals when I perform. Though, digital makes up a much larger chunk of sales these days.”
“Naturally,” he said, dipping his head.
I took the black marker and CD case he held out to me and quickly signed it before handing it back to him.
I turned again and paused on the production equipment. Nate’s reminder that I wasn't a producer flashed through my head once more.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Bradley asked, nodding at the set. “All you need to get her up and running is a computer or tablet. Very portable. You could have her set up within an hour or two.”
I glanced over my shoulder and smiled tightly.
