Rosie looked at me with huge eyes. She bit her lip and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot like she was barefoot on hot sand. Her fingertips darted in and out of her pockets. I deftly translated the expression and the adorable squirming. What are you doing? She was about to find out.

Part of my job was advocating for my clients when they were too star struck, or too shy to do it for themselves. My extended web of contacts was vast, but as an agent, my advocacy for someone like Rosie was always going to be tainted by the fact that I was her agent. Of course, I would talk her up. Jason, however, had no legal or financial connection to Rosie. The only connection he had to Rosie was through me. And I was going to use it.

“As it happens, Rosie’s opening for your former bandmates on Friday at the Lone Star Lounge Friday after next,” I told Jason, watching Rosie’s cheeks kindle to a deep, vibrant crimson out of the corner of my eye. “You should definitely come.”

Exposure, especially big-name exposure (like Jason Kane), was worth its weight in gold. It might not pay off immediately, but it would be valuable one day. If nothing else, Rosie would benefit from just being in the room where other important conversations took place. I suspected that once Jason heard her sing, however, he’d be a strong ally for her.

Jason sat up and looked interested. “Wendy would definitely want to go to that. I know she misses seeing Emma and Kate as much as she used to. If we can find a sitter, we’ll be there.” He frowned. “Our last sitter was afraid of our dogs.” He shook his head. “They only look scary. Those two are bigger babies than our actual baby.”

“Alexandra, my secretary, babysits on the side,” I suggested. “Plus, she was specifically hired to stand up to demanding clients like yourself. I guarantee she won’t be easily intimidated.”

Jason lit up like a pinball machine. “Perfect!” Then he paused. “And I’m not that demanding.”

I rolled my eyes. Jason Kane was a walking problem. Even in ‘retirement’, he called me for more weird, mundane bullshit than all my other clients combined. I also suspected that he’d never read a single memo that I’d sent, and they had to be numbering in the hundreds at this point. Still, I liked him, and not only because he’d done me the world’s biggest favor and kicked Ian out of Axial Tilt before he drank himself to death. “You’re special, how about we leave it at that. It’s not every client I’d drive across Texas for.”

“Special?” he thought about it for a moment. “My teachers always called me special. I think they’d been told that ‘dumb’ was no longer politically correct.”

“Would you prefer VIP?” I asked dryly.

Jason brightened. “Yes, that’s much better.”

Rosie watched our interaction with an unreadable look on her face. She was probably used to the way her father handled clients, which was never my style, but especially not with Jason. We’d always been a bit more than just a lawyer and a client to one another.

Rosie couldn’t know it, but the odds were in her favor today and it was all because of personal connections. It’s what made the world go around, and the kismet of it all was really staggering. When I was in law school, I met a computer programming undergrad named Lucas, who’d introduced me to his roommate, Ward, who later became a professional football player, and who just happened to now own the Lone Star. And the person that Ward bought the bar from? Wendy Kane’s grandfather. And what did that boil down to? Jason Kane would be at Rosie’s show.

When the conversation wrapped up, and Jason finally rose to leave, I saw him glance over at the photo of Ian, Jen, and me that sat next to my computer. Jason had been the one to take that picture, and it was the last photo anyone ever took of Jen. He’d snapped it mere hours before the crash.

Those had been very different times. Not better, just different. We’d been freer, younger, and less burdened by the pressures of life. When Jen died, however, that time died with her. All of a sudden, I felt compelled to be an adult. While Ian chose to drown himself in the same poison that had inadvertently killed Jen, I swore it off, forever. Ian spiraled downwards, eventually getting thrown out of Axial Tilt and settling for a near decade of local gigs and lesser bands, I put my head down and worked. I raised my GPA from an average number to a spectacular number and got into law school. After her death, I felt compelled to have enough success for the both of us—since she’d been denied the opportunity to ever have hers. In a weird way, it was Jen who led me into entertainment law, to the firm I worked at, and to Rosie.

Jason’s eyes scraped over the picture, and then a number of expressions that I couldn’t begin to decipher passed over his face. He and Jen had been close friends, and roommates at one point. Unlike me and Ian, Jen and Jason hadn’t been in college. They worked a progression of odd-jobs, usually together, as they attempted to bring Axial Tilt to the next level. The two of them had an aggressively platonic relationship. More like siblings than friends. Her death had crushed him, but his coping mechanism had been a lot closer to mine than Ian’s.

Jen would have been a superstar. In addition to being an incredible bassist, she could play guitar, keyboards, and drums. She co-wrote Axial Tilt’s first album, the one that had catapulted them into superstardom.

The woman in the picture, a petite blond with huge, dark eyes, looked absolutely nothing like Rosie. But the passion they had for their music, and for going for their dreams, was the same. Of course, I couldn’t know if they’d get along, but I thought they would. Jen couldn’t have imagined the life I was living now, but I think she’d be happy that I’d found somebody just as passionate as she was. More and more, I was becoming paranoid that fate would steal Rosie from me the same way it had Jen. I needed to hold onto her.