The Trouble with Rock Stars

Chapter 5

Outside, the afternoon sun beat down, backing the top of her head. Gabriella sipped from her ice coffee. An occasional car swept past and few shoppers lingered. Mostly, however, it was a quiet afternoon. As if the whole area had fallen into an afternoon lull. Siesta time. God, she'd missed this. Being back home, cradled in this little part of the world where everything just seemed so right.

The Music Box came into view and she smiled. The thought that she might see him, had her body tingling. She let out a low breath and attempted to squash that emotion down deep inside. She really needed to stop caring about him. He was none of her business.

A sign sat out on the hot sidewalk advertising a sale on guitars, distantly she could hear someone playing one. The sound grew louder as she entered the store, grateful for the air-conditioning. Gray industrial carpeting that was worn down next to nothing covered the floor beneath a large battered metal and glass shop counter. Amplifiers were all over the place, a drum kit set up in the back, and the walls were covered by every kind of guitar— the bulk of which she knew nothing about.

A portrait of Bill Murray hung behind the counter. An interesting choice of patron saint.

From deeper within the shop came voices, the sound of music. She followed it into an open area hidden behind a wall of amps. It was a secret garden made for six strings. Sort of.

"Hey," Kelsi greeted, leaning against the end of a ceiling-high rack of guitars. She had her hair piled high on top of her head with what looked like a drumstick.

Some people are simply born cool. Gabriella wasn't even remotely one of them.

"Hey, we still on for lunch?"

Kelsi held up a finger to her lips, "Come check this out." She jerked her chin in the same direction the music was coming from.

Troy sat on a low stool, playing acoustic guitar, while three kids of varying ages stood watching. Their faces were rapt. She completely understood why. Troy with a guitar in his hands would enthrall anyone.

He was magic.

The precision of his fingers and the dance of muscles in his arms. Jaw set and eyes distant, he wove the music out of thin air, filling the ship with its beauty. It wasn't anything fancy, full of finger picking and over-the-top showmanship. Just a simple old soft rock song. By Dylan, she thought, although she'd heard it covered a million times. The care Troy gave it, however, the heart, made it special.

"C to G," said one of the kids, who looked like she was in her early teens.

"That's right." Troy smiled as he kept on playing.

"Then D," added another, pointing at the bottom strings.

"Yep. You got it."

The third remained silent, staring at his fingers.

"He's good with them," Gabriella said quietly to Kelsi.

"No, he's fucking great with them," she whispered back. "This has been going on for over an hour now."

"Really?" Gabriella stared back at the group in awe.

Kelsi slipped her hand in hers, drawing her back so they wouldn't disturb them with their conversation. She led her over to the counter, giving her hand squeeze before letting go.

"The kids belong to the owner of the hair salon across the street," she said. "She's been over twice to check on them, wants to sign all three up for lessons with him. Already brought a half-size guitar for them to use."