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“I don’t see why she needs to vent about me wanting to record here.”
“Did I say ‘vent’? Maybe that’s too strong a word. Bounce stuff off of, maybe. Mina’s not the best outlet for that when it comes to you. For one thing, Mina doesn’t give a crap about the music industry. I do.”
“Yeah, the studio seems to be doing great,” he said.
She tried not to beam with pleasure. “Didn’t think you paid much attention to the figures.” She’d been working her butt off the last four years, hustling to keep the studio going as her dad had stepped back to retire. Sal Santelli’s legendary skills at the board had been a big draw for artists interested in recording on Lansing. She’d been determined to show the world that nothing would change when he left. She thought she’d managed it in the end, but it had been a long hard slog to convince people that she could do the job just as well as Sal.
“I’m not stupid, Leah,” he said. “I might not have the hard-on for the detail that Faith does, but I read the reports.”
O-kay. She didn’t want to think about Zach and hard-ons. In any context. “Oh. Good,” she managed as she struggled to wipe the sudden memory of Zach naked that flashed before her eyes. “That’s good.” Gah. Now she sounded like a moron. To cover herself, she walked over to the French doors that overlooked the cliffs. Maybe if she opened them, the sea air would clear her head. Clear that damn scent of him out of her lungs. But then she remembered the pile of papers by the guitar. Sending a bunch of his stuff blowing around the room wasn’t going to impress him.
She turned back. “So, you’re here. And you’re going to write. Then record some new material?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
There was no good way to ask. Better just to get it over with. “Who are you working with?”
“As a band?”
“No.” She shook her head, feeling kind of sick and hoping it didn’t show. “Who’s producing?”
He spread his hands. “That’s not set in stone yet. I have a few people in mind. Why? Did you want the job?” He grinned at her, clearly finding the idea amusing.
She stuck out her chin. “Why is that funny?”
Those salt-water eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Why shouldn’t I be? I’m a sound engineer. A very very good one. You know who trained me. You know my experience. And I’m producing now too. And no one knows our studios better than I do.” She bit her lip, not wanting to say more. Like “No one knows you like I do.” Once upon a time that might have been true. She’d grown up with Zach, used to know the ins and outs of his life like she knew her own, but that wasn’t true any more. The man was a stranger. But maybe the guy she’d known before was still buried in there somewhere.
Zach’s arms folded. “Leah, I?—”
“Do you want me to send you a resume?” she said. “I can. I’m good, Zach. We’d be good together, I know it.” Damn. That last part came out wrong. Because his expression turned wary.
“I’m not even ready to record,” he said.
“But you’re looking for a producer. You need that sorted out. So, I’m here. I’m available. I’m good. And I’m asking.”
He shook his head. “Like I said, I have feelers out. I’m not making any decisions yet.”
“Does that mean you’ll consider me when you do?”
No answer. And his face changed to the patented Harper politely-neutral-and-giving-nothing-away expression that all three siblings had learned from their dad.
Which meant that the answer was really “no.”
“You want to tell me why not?”
He didn’t move. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not? Because I don’t have enough experience? You need something new. Something different if you’re looking to make a splash.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?” Realization dawned. “Oh God, please don’t say it’s because we slept together once upon a time?”
“Leah—”
She held up a hand. “No. Because that’s crazy. It was one night. It was a long time ago, and I don’t know about you, Zach, but I haven’t spent the last ten years pining over it. I moved on. Hopefully you have too. So that has nothing to do with this conversation.”
