“Be cool,” she said and got a grunt in return. Abel wasn’t going to be cool with Jay until they smack talked each other for a good year or two. Isaac was more likely to just smack, which would be a whole lot quicker and Oscar would brood silently in a way that took up no space but made everyone near uncomfortable without knowing why.
If it wasn’t for the chance to grow Lost Property’s fan base through a stadium tour and the money that would bring in, none of them would be in this room. Evie had considered not showing. She wasn’t a decision maker. If it wasn’t for needing good content of the World’s End and Lost Property guys together, she could’ve avoided Jay until they were avoiding each other backstage. She needed that content. She needed Jay’s big rock star energy to rub off on her brothers, and her best friend Teela had called her on it.
Evie had once made the mistake of telling Teela that Jay had ruined her for other men, and musicians in particular, and Teela never forgot a revealing confession.
After Jay, anyone in a band and by extension, anyone who worked as a roadie or in management for a band, was a lust object to be conquered and then dumped before they started to expect anything remotely like genuine affection. Which meant Evie rarely stuck around for breakfast.
It’d be a sad indictment of the state of human relationships except that’s exactly how the guys behaved because that was one of the benefits of being in a band. Hook-up culture was going strong, nobody wanted the hassle of a relationship, there were plenty more swipes in your back pocket and someone better might show up. FOMO in the sack was real.
That described her three brothers and even Dad, after Mum died, although he at least cooked his hook-ups breakfast, called them a car service in the morning and sent flowers.
At this stage of her life, if a man bothered to chase her up for anything more than a dirty weekend, Evie would be shocked into a nunnery. She was perfectly happy to have great sex with attractive, charismatic men and then get on with her day. If she ever wanted something more permanent, she’d have to change her hunting grounds because music biz people were allergic to commitment, and congenitally attuned to fun times, not long times.
“Why would you let Jay win?” Teela had said in their last chat session.
Which was fine for Teela, who was a competitive go-getter, now dating hot Hollywood legend Haydn Delany to say. Teela had won the ultimate jackpot. Her man was handsome, rich, motivated to do some good in the world and moving with a pack of his adopted rescue dogs to Sydney so Teela didn’t have to give up building her business to be with him.
They were in opposites land.
Jay had promised Evie they’d stick together and take on the world and then broken up with her for no reason she understood, trashed the band, destroyed his friendships and then become a rock god who’d shown up to flaunt his success and make her feel angry, jarringly nervous and just plain miserable.
Avoiding Jay wouldn’t be letting him win as much as it would be saving her from doing or saying something to jeopardize the success of the tour.
“Fucker could’ve booked some other band,” Abel said too loudly, precisely echoing her thoughts and making everyone on the other side of the table freeze-frame for a second before going back to what they were doing. You could just about smell the animosity in the room.
“Not if he wanted all his fingers to keep working,” Isaac responded, eyes still on his screen.
Oscar gave a thumbs-up.
Dad was still making teeth at Janina.
Evie messaged Teela. I am in hell and it’s your fault, and then Grip walked in with Jay behind him.
“I’m sorry for being late, everyone,” Jay announced, causing his side of the room to wake up and gather round him. Janina got the first hug and there was much backslapping and joshing around with the members of World’s End, Tex, and the others who Evie privately referred to as Scruffy, Serial Killer and Most Likely to have a Deviated Septum.
She clicked a few photos because they were outrageously attractive men. Tex had a lopsided smile and violent blue eyes. Scruffy had a bun and an amazing beard. Serial Killer had beautiful forearms and even Deviated Septum was handsome in that big-nosed, rugged-featured, monster-shoulders way. Together they formed a seriously scenic backdrop for Jay’s careless, lithe beauty.
She posted to the Lost Property Instagram feed with the caption Ran into some old friends today. That would stir things up. Another shot went in the Lost and Found fan group Facebook page with the caption Look who showed up. Consider this a massive teaser.
If they didn’t sign the final contract today she’d be teasing nothing but more photos for the fans and if they did, there’d be a press conference and Abel and Jay would make the announcement together.
If they could handle standing side by side long enough to be civil.
“Kept his hair,” Abel snarked. It’s a wonder Jay didn’t feel the heat of Abel’s eyes on his neck, right around the jugular.
“Shame about his swollen head,” Isaac added.
“What is Errol doing?” said Oscar as their father approached Jay. “Traitor.”
Big A for awkward. Jay met Errol’s outstretched hand with
a frown that he schooled quickly when they clasped and shook, but not so quickly that the rest of the Tice family didn’t catch it.
“Think of the money,” she said, taking a photo. “Think of the fans.”
She zoomed in on Errol and Jay’s faces. Jay had never known his dad. Killed in a car accident when Janina was pregnant. He’d idolized Errol, but he’d never bothered to stay in touch. No dues were paid to the man who’d given him a start in the business. The strain of this was in the scrunch of Errol’s face and the way Jay’s eye contact flickered. The hug they transitioned to had all the warmth of a slip ‘n slide, but it made a good photo that she’d find a use for.
She prodded Abel. “Get up. Go talk to him. Errol can’t make this work without you.”