Chapter 7
“ W hat the hell are you doing here?” My dad lets out a warning growl. Dropping his half-eaten cinnamon roll on his plate, he rises from his chair at the head of the table. I swivel around in my seat and let out a surprised squeak.
“Avery Jones,” I breathe in awe, recognizing the world-famous Brutal Strength lead guitarist. Beside me, Bo also turns around.
“Whoa, War.” Bryan stands and blocks my dad from reaching Avery Jones. “Dial down the intimidating vibes.”
“Who the fuck invited Avery Jones to Christmas breakfast?” Dad glares at Bryan, apparently suspecting it was him. I wonder if it was. The guitarists are known to be friends.
“No one invited me,” Avery answers my father, speaking for herself. I wish I could be like her. I’m a big fan of the beautiful and confident female guitarist, who is also a talented songwriter.
“I heard you think Tempest might be better than Brutal Strength.” A smile plays on her lips.
“Who told you?” Dad asks in general, but his gaze focuses on the likeliest suspect. “Bry?”
“It wasn’t me.” Bryan shakes his head.
“Mary told me,” Avery admits.
“Who the fuck told the ice queen?” My dad’s brow furrows.
“I did,” Melinda says sweetly, and everyone turns to look at Sager’s wife.
“Why?” Dad glares at the woman, who lost her sight in a tragic accident but who hasn’t let her disability keep her from doing anything. I admire her as much as Avery.
“I’m trying to get Mary on board with the possibility of a Tempest and Brutal Strength charity concert to benefit Hope House,” Melinda says. “I think it would be cool if the fans could vote afterward for their favorite rock band.” Everyone greets the news with stunned silence. Hope House is a charity that is dear to Tempest since it provides support services for at risk Southside youth. “And if that goes well, maybe we could arrange a Tempest and Brutal Strength reunion tour.” Melinda wrinkles her nose. “Mary likes the first idea, but she isn’t a fan of the second.”
“Why would the CEO of Black Cat be opposed to making money?” Dad asks, his sarcasm thick.
“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.” Dad taps his chest. And points at Avery. “Everyone knows 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 show or tour within minutes.” Dad frowns. “I don’t understand what Mary’s issue is.”
Melinda arches a black 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.” She glances at Bo’s mom. “And Lace almost died.”
“I guess she has a point,” my dad allows grudgingly.
My lips twitch. I think Melinda made several points.
“But that was over a decade ago.” My dad waves a dismissive hand.
“We learned from what we went through.” Lace looks at Avery. It’s obvious from her expression that she’s not a big fan of Brutal Strength’s guitarist. “We’re different people now.”
“Right,” Dad agrees. “But let’s focus on the issue. Mary needs to be convinced.” He casts his gaze around the table. “How do we change her mind?”
“I have a proposition,” Avery says.
“I’m taken, Avery.” Dad looks down his nose at her. “But even if I weren’t, I’m not interested.”
“A business proposition.” She rolls her striking green eyes.
“One that will up the amount of potential funds raised for charity,” Bryan adds, and he and Avery exchange a nod.
Apparently, this is something they have discussed.
“I’m listening.” My dad pops a brow, his gaze on Avery.
“BS is about to debut a new song.” Avery plants her hands on her hips, the movement stretching her vintage Van Halen tour T-shirt tighter across her chest. “I hear you might have something new planned for Tempest too.”
“We’re cutting an entire album. Here at my house. Interesting that you know that.” Dad snaps an accusatory glare at Bryan. Apparently, his best friend is sharing trade secrets with the pretty guitarist.
“Good for you.” Avery looks unimpressed. “Got anything good yet?”
“A couple of melodies,” my dad says neutrally.
“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?” He seems to be holding his breath as he leans toward her.
“Yes, in fact, I do,” she replies, and she and Bryan exchange another knowing look.
I think my dad has been set up.
“I’ll bet you five hundred thousand dollars in the form of a charitable donation to Feeding the Hungry.” Avery throws out a challenge. “That my band’s song will be better than yours.”
“One million,” Dad counters. He doesn’t back down from challenges ever. “If Tempest wins, which we will, the entire amount will go to Hope House.”
“You’re on.” Avery holds out her arm, hand extended.
“We’re gonna kick your ass.” Dad takes her hand and shakes it. “How do you propose the winner to be determined?”
“We’ll stream the concert, make it free so everyone who wants to can watch it.” Avery releases his hand, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “We’ll do online voting. The song that gets the most votes wins.”
“Not just that million up for grabs.” Dad holds up a hand. “The winner will get bragging rights, the title of Best Rock Band, and if Mary changes her mind about a joint tour, the winner gets top billing on that.”
“Deal.” Avery nods.
“You’re on.” My dad looks at Avery.
I look at Bo. He shakes his head in disbelief. Looks like we just witnessed the planning for a big musical throwdown.
“But it’s not gonna be much of a contest.” Dad isn’t finished trash-talking the guitarist, and in typical fashion for him, he has to get the last word in. “Tempest is the more talented band. We’re definitely going to win.”