Page 3 of Knot Their Opening Act

I continue toward the back door and push it out into the cool evening. And slam it shut. Nothing out here but a skip and a row of bins, and a single metal chair against the wall.

“Your tour starts in three weeks.Three.Sabre Light is out of the running. What did you expect me to do? Have you guys open for yourselves?” Ash says.

I cover my eyes with my free hand and close them. A headache’s coming. “I thought you’d just get some solo artist to jump around to a backing track, throw some screen visuals, and call it a day. Not hook a singer-songwriter with delusions of grandeur. How the hell do you expect the fans to take this news? What’re they supposed to do during her set, braid each other’s hair? And where is Steve in all this? I don’t hear him banging down our door with this news.”

“First off, Steve has enough on his plate with the day-to-day stuff. And Jez is why I’m personally coming out on the first leg of this tour. I want to see it all for myself, so I can get her new guy up and running as a manager, and also give her a proper introduction into this madness.”

I scowl at this but let him continue. This means Ash will be in our faces, and he’s a lot harder to tune out than Steve.

“Secondly, your fans will probably mostly all be getting overpriced drinks from concessions during her set,” says Ash wryly. “What do you care? The crowds will be there for you, either way. And listen, I didn’t hear you squawk so much about Olly.”

I look around and lower myself to the metal chair, which protests with a squeak. My six-foot-six frame isn’t a welcome addition, but I can’t focus on a phone call when I’m standing. Just makes me want to pace like a trapped animal, which would make this call ten times worse than normal.

Ash has a point. Olly Mason, our most recent tour opener wasn’t exactly our style, either. And the opening act on the tour before Olly was problematic in its own way.

Kitestring was an all-girl band which we all immediately said yes to in the hopes one of them might become our Omega. Being in our late thirties without one has made us a hot topic, and a target—for fangirls and media scrutiny alike. And after the bassist, Nyah, pulled a bait and switch on us, that was it. Only shot. We’ve all but sworn off Omegas, but I drew the line at ever getting close to another Omega in the industry again. She made everything about her band’s success, and played us all like fucking violins. The hurt went deep for Thomas especially, who’d grown close to her before any of us. If anything, his nearly-mute behavior around anyone but his closest mates has grown worse since then.

I toe an empty beer bottle on the ground. It rolls away with a clank against the skip. “Olly wasn’t so bad. I didn’t care for his music that much, but he was a decent chap.”And he wasn’t an Omega.

Ash sighs. “Right. I can’t argue about this. Unless you plan to find someone in the next twenty-four hours—you know what? Scratch that. I’ve already verbally given Jesamine the offer. I’m not taking it back. You tell the guys, listen to her latest single if nothing else, and get ready to put a sunshiny-bright smile on your faces come Monday morning because that’s when you’re going to meet her at my office. 10 a.m. because I know you sleeping beauties like to stay up til sunrise playing video games.”

“That’s just Thomas?—”

“Also, for the record, she goes by Jez in the industry now, and personally.”

I know what she goes by. And I know what her music sounds like.

I scrub a hand down my face and lean back in the chair as the sounds of a car peeling through the neighborhood come to a quick stop, and someone yells, and a car alarm goes off. This is usually a quieter neighborhood in Bristol’s outskirts but sometimes city center rowdiness spills over.

“What’s her latest single called? And that doesn’t mean I’m happy about this.”

“You don’t have to be happy. That’s your prerogative. But you’re going to be on tour with her for four months, so get over yourselves and accept that I know what I’m doing, and I think Fable and Jez Jacobs will complement each other.”

“Single, Ash,” I growl. “What is it?”

“Broken in Three. Check it out. It’s really good, and stronger than her previous stuff.”

I sigh and I swear, my soul leaves my body. We’re in for a disastrous tour. I can already see the thousands of social media shit-posts asking us if we’ve lost our minds.

It’s not that I have anything against her style of music—I listen to everything with an open mind, and my record collection spans the whole spectrum. But there are two reasons this will go up in flames: Jez Jacobs’ fans are pastel-hair-dying, sequin-cowboy-boots wearing teen girls, and Fable on Fire’s are adults who don’t need a story spelled out for them in lyrics, but can take their own meaning from the sonically-adventurous jazz-rock, post-rock poetry we put to music. They will have nothing in common and the crowds are going to be as fucking confused by the pairing as I am by Ash’s departure from logic.

The second reason is even simpler: I’ve met Jez before. We all have. And we nearly destroyed her career.

This time we might finish the job.

CHAPTER3

Jez

Viv madesure we stopped at my favorite coffee place on the way to the train, and kept me busy and distracted on the ride to Reading as we discussed baby names. Her Alphas had told her they wanted her to choose names, and with the legit complaints she’d had of feeling so out of control in her body since pregnancy began, I appreciated them giving her complete control of something she could throw her energy behind.

After the short ride over to Reading, my nerves bundled back up and started a jittery dance. The rain had stayed off and it was a muggy day, which made me feel more on edge as though itcoulddownpour any second and I’d left my umbrella behind.

“What if I don’t get on with this band? What if it’s someone who hates my music? What if I’ve never heard of them and I have to act like I have?”

Ash’s agency has dozens of bands on their roster these days, and I didn’t want to further my concerns by researching all their clients, so the surprise will either make or break me.

“What if they’re all intolerably hot and end up being your pack and you guys have wild, passionate sex every single night of tour?”

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