“Oh, Miles,” Gabby suddenly says, her voice quiet. She leans her head against his shoulder. “I think I might cry. It’s such a bummer that their band’s breaking up. They should still continue it, the three of them.”
“Yeah.” Miles presses fingers against his sternum and nods. He wonders what to do with how his heart is hammering.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Everyone moves to the tent for the reception, including the band, and Gil switches to the drums, which have been set up there. They play at the start of the party when the couple arrives, and then take a break.
Well, not really a break. The band gets off the stage, and Calvin heads for Miles, but then the band’s suddenly crowded by a bunch of guests. The twins are still streaming, pulling close to them and getting them on screen, and Chase’s eyes bug out when he sees the viewer count.
“Twelve thousand,” he mouths at Miles. Holy shit. Miles gets dizzy all over again.
The band plays several times during the program, such as the couple’s first dance, and then several songs when guests come out to the floor to dance. They’re covering popular songs from the list they were given, but then some of the guests quickly figure out that thisis pretty much a private concert and convince them to play some of their own songs. Bridget and Jeff have no complaints.
Miles keeps an eye on them as he runs around all night, making sure the buffet’s stocked up, guiding guests around, and asking some kids to stay away from the lake since it’s already dark.
He wishes he could get a chance to actually thank the band, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anytime soon with how they’re surrounded. Calvin looks exhausted. He wipes sweat off his forehead and his damp hair sticks to his neck. He’s taken off his suit jacket, resting it against a chair, and Miles groans because it’s unfair how good he looks.
At around ten p.m., Gil steps away and whispers something to the coordinator. She nods and soon enough Calvin says they’re going to play three more final songs. There are groans everywhere, and Miles almost joins them.
“Miles!” Bridget calls. He places the tray of glasses he was holding down on the table as she runs up to him. “Thank you so much. You and your friends saved the day. I don’t even know how I can repay you—it totally makes up for how crazy this day was.”
“I’m glad it went well,” he says, genuinely. He wonders if she notices how he takes a slight step back, still kind of traumatized by how she zeroed in on him earlier.
“I am so sorry I went off on you. I was so frustrated. You did great.” She wraps her arms around him tight, and he awkwardly pats her back.
“Miles,” calls a part-timer. The kid rushes up to him as soon as Bridget runs off, and he looks worried.
“Yes?” he says, glancing over his shoulder to watch as the band starts playing another song. Oh, nice. He loves this song.
“They need you at reception. There are too many calls, and there are too many requests coming from booking sites.”
“I—what?”
Confused, Miles glances one last time at the band. Calvin runs a hand through his hair, and damn, he does not want to go.
He forces himself to rush to the reception, where Gabby and one other receptionist are on the phones, clicking around on the two computers they have. There’s another staff member there as well, scrolling through one of the inn’s laptops, looking like he might faint.
“It’s the live stream,” Gabby says when she puts the phone down. It starts ringing immediately. “It went viral and we’re getting too many requests—from all over the place. Oh my god.”
Miles stares. He circles around the counter and catches a glimpse of the long list of requests on the computers. They’re asking for confirmations, but then Gabby’s also taking calls and entering them into the system.
“This is good,” Gabby says. The phone’s still ringing. “This is really, really good… and insane.”
He gently nudges her out of the way and puts a hand on the phone. “Sort out the website requests; I’ll take this call. Hi, Hannah’s Inn.”
“Hello!” answers an excited, high-pitched voice on the other line. Gabby takes over the laptop, hunched over and her eyebrows knit, and Miles takes one of the desktop computers. “I’d like to book aroom for this weekend, right away.”
“Would be glad to help you,” he says. He’s got his eyes on the door leading out to the lake, wondering if the band’s on their way back. “You can also book on Agoda. We’ve got a promo on online transactions—”
“No, thank you,” the woman says hurriedly. “This is faster. I want to confirm my booking as soon as I can, before everyone else does.”
“Okay. Can I get your name, how many guests, and how many nights?” He takes her information, inputs the dates on the computer, and he gets a wall of red text in return. No more room on these days, it says. “Apologies. We’re fully booked next weekend.”
“Oh, damn. When’s the earliest we can get a room?”
Miles books her a date three weeks from now. He wonders if he should tell her that the band won’t be around by then, but that’s not information he can give out, anyway. When he puts the phone down, it rings again—immediately. He takes call after call, and this is actually happening. The band may have saved the inn.
Miles is so focused on taking the calls that he almost doesn’t notice the band walking into the lobby, a small crowd following them.
