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“Yeah, Madeline picked great songs.”
“We can move on from country music now, right?” he asked. “As fun as that was, can we go back to our sound?”
I nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I have a few other lyrics to hand off.”
Bennett had been my right-hand guy ever since high school. It had been just me and him, playing in his garage. Five years ago, we found Chase and Jameson and the band came together, flawlessly—we’ve been together ever since. Now, I’d hand Bennett some chicken scratch I called lyrics, and he would fine tune them to make a song. We had a few we would sing at each gig and, surprisingly, the crowd always seemed to enjoy those more than the covers. A part of me wanted to pursue something more—something other than just karaoke bars and unpaid gigs.
“Great! Are they slower tunes or—”
Bennett began to ramble, always wanting to start another project as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, Clay and Ophelia had folded up all the tables, and Jamie worked on the chairs. She’d pulled her hair up in a ponytail and thrown a hoodie on over her bridesmaid’s dress. She stacked the chairs and sighed, giving Clay and Ophelia a wave as they left hand in hand.
“Elliot?” Bennett said, his tone making me think he had said my name several times.
“Yeah, that all sounds great. Listen, I’ll be right back.” I dropped the wires and leapt off the stage, making a beeline for Jamie.
“Do you need any help with the chairs?” I coughed as I approached, the idea of Suave Elliot completely gone.
She turned suddenly to face me, her hair hitting her shoulder as the ponytail flung around her head. “Oh,” she said in surprise. “No, I think I got it. The staff said if I folded them up, they’d take them to the trailer.”
She waved her arms around, motioning to the multiple stacks of chairs then to the trailer on the road.
I inhaled, stuffing my hands in my pants pockets.
“Do you uh—” I stammered. She didn't need help; we just established that. There was no more music for a dance. My mind went completely blank. What in the name of all that was holy could I offer this woman?
“I loved the set, better than The Piano Bar and the party. You really upped your game.” Jamie shifted on her feet, sticking her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.
I smiled. “Thank you. I kept messing up, though. Bennett had to poke me a few times.” I looked back at my band, who all stood on the stage in a line, watching me. Jameson had his arms folded and brow furrowed. “I think they want me to get back to packing up.”
“I can tell.” She laughed as she looked at each guy then trailed her eyes back to me. “For the record, I didn’t notice any mistakes. It was flawless.”
Her eyes grew as she smiled. They had depth, a gray stillness to them that somehow managed to distract my entire focus.
She hummed, filling the silence that fell between us. “Well, I came with Ophelia, and she just took off with Clay in the car I arrived in, so . . . She shook her head and pulled out her phone. “I’m going to call an Uber and finish up. I’m sure by the time they get here I’ll be ready.”
“I can take you home,” I blurted. I finally figured out what this woman needs—she needs a ride. “Clay came with me, so I’ll be more than happy to take you back to Portland. I just need to help the guys . . .” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder, turning mybody slightly back toward them, my feet still firmly planted in front of her.
Jamie lowered her phone and looked at me, narrowing her eyes as if she was thinking.
Come on. Say yes. I desperately want to spend time with you . . .
“Sure, yeah . . .” she finally muttered. “That works great actually. I’ll just . . . um . . . finish with the chairs while you break down the stage. Just let me know when you're ready?”
I grinned, holding back a small laugh that was sure to make me look like a creep. “Great, just give me twenty minutes?”
She gave a single nod as I turned back and ran to the stage, giving the guys a smile as they each shook their heads at me.
“We could have been done by now,” Jameson argued.
“Well if you idiots hadn’t been watching me, then you could have been. Come on, let’s load up—I gotta take her home.”
Jameson raised a single eyebrow before turning back to his keyboard. I went back to the mic, twisting apart the stand, making sure Jamie was doing okay as she folded up more and more chairs.
Once everything was packed and the guys were driving off with the trailer full of equipment, I met Jamie back at the tent. She sat in the only chair left, her thumbs steady on her phone screen.
“Texting Madeline already?” I asked as I approached. I mentally slapped myself on the forehead.
