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“Why?” I demand to know as she stops in front of me.
“Trying to get her on board with the possibility of a Tempest and Brutal Strength reunion tour.” Melinda wrinkles her nose “Mary isn’t a fan of the idea.”
“Why would the ice queen be opposed to making money?” I ask.
“In her mind,” Melinda says, “the cost won’t cover the potential reward.”
“What costs? We’re the best motherfucking rock band in the world.” I tap my chest. We’re the best mainly because of me and my unique voice, but these days I can give my bandmates some credit too. I point at Avery. “BS is the runner-up.”
“Disagree,” Avery says with a chin lift. “Respectfully.”
“The best two bands in rock ’n’ roll will sell out any tour in minutes.” I frown. “I don’t understand what Mary’s issue is.”
Melinda arches a brow. “Mary said the last time Tempest and Brutal Strength went on tour together, you guys didn’t get along. There was drug use. She had to bring in a manager to control you. And Lace almost died.”
“I guess she has a point,” I say grudgingly. In fact, there were several of them. “But that was over a decade ago.”
“We learned from what we went through.” Lace steps closer, wearing a frown that matches mine. She’s not a big fan of Avery Jones being here either. “We’re different people now.”
“You look beautiful, Lace,” Justin says, wedging himself between Avery and Lace. If they were cats, those two women would have their claws out. “Hair’s longer, lighter than when I saw you in Milan.”
“Thanks, JJ.” Lace flips a long blond strand over her shoulder. “My hairstylist added some lowlights.”
“Stunning.” He raises his auburn brows. “You finished with your spring line yet?”
“Focus, people. This isn’t social happy hour.” I roll my eyes at them. Lace and Justin tend to be in their own little world whenever the subject is clothes. “So, Avery,” I say to regain her attention.
“So, War,” she says sassily. “I have a proposition for you.”
“I’m taken, Avery.” I look down my nose at her. “But even if I weren’t, I’m not interested.”
“A business proposition.” She narrows her striking green eyes that I know for certain used to trip Bryan up.
“A charitable one,” my best friend adds, and he and Avery exchange a nod.
Apparently, they’ve discussed this. I’m not entirely surprised. Though Avery is very much married to Marcus Anthony, there was something between Avery and Bryan back when Lace was out of the picture. But how far that something went, nobody really knows except Bryan and Avery.
“I’m listening.” I pop a brow, my gaze on Avery.
“BS is about to debut a new song.” She plants her hands on her hips, stretching her vintage Van Halen tour T-shirt tighter across her breasts. “I hear you might have something new going on with Tempest too.”
“We’re cutting an entire album.” I snap an accusatory glare at Bryan for sharing trade secrets before returning my attention to Avery. “Here. At my house.”
“Good for you.” Avery looks unimpressed. “Got anything yet?”
“A couple of melodies,” I say neutrally. We almost have at least one hit song.
“How fast can you turn one of those melodies into a polished piece?” she asks.
“So fast it would make your red head spin.”
“Good.” Her chin comes up. “But you do realize that whatever you come up with, BS’s song will be much better.”
“Wanna bet?” I lean toward her.
“Yes, in fact, I do.”
She and Bryan exchange another knowing look. I’ve been set up.
