They stopped by the theater to snag a couple mic stands from the storage room, then went back to the cabin. Archer set up the karaoke in a corner while Mateo started blowing up balloons. They put up a few colorful bunches around the room and dug in the cupboard for the leftover supplies from Archer’s party.

“When’s your birthday?” Archer asked, as he shook out the polka-dot tablecloth.

“October,” Mateo said, helping him spread it out.

“October what?” Archer asked.

“Why, are you going to show up at my apartment with some balloons?”

“I might,” Archer said with a sideways glance. “Maybe even a cake, if you play your cards right.”

“Hmm.” Mateo pretended to consider. “The twenty-sixth.”

Archer made a show of putting it into his calendar. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’ll be waiting.”

Archer cleared his throat, suddenly finding the room stifling. To be fair, the AC was struggling to keep up with the heat. “Deal. Now where did we put the rest of the napkins?”

Dominik, of course, was the self-appointed karaoke MC and first to grab the mic. He had paired his Hawaiian shorts and turquoise tank top with a black blazer for the occasion. “Good evening, all you shady queens.” His voice boomed around the room. A bunch of the other employees turned to give him their attention, too. “I’d like to bring up a lady who I know needs no introduction. Birthday girl, get up here!”

He led the crowd in “Happy Birthday to You” as Betty, already a few drinks in, bounced to the front and took the mic from him. “Thank you, Dominik. I’ll be kicking things off tonight with a song that is deeply personal to me.” She nodded at Harley, who had the iPad. “Hit it.”

Archer’s mouth fell open as she began to sing. Betty was a rock star. She absolutely belted her way through “I Love Myself Today” by Bif Naked.

“Girl, you can sing,” he told her when she was done. “That was awesome.”

“Thanks, Archie. Now your turn!”

He threw his best puppy dog eyes at Mateo. “Are you in? Time for ‘Paradise’?”

Mateo’s gaze flitted around the room, then settled back on Archer. “Sure.”

“Yes!” Archer yelped, a few drinks in himself. “Let’s go.” He gave instructions to Harley, then took Mateo’s hand and pulled him up to the mics.

“I guess you usually do Meat Loaf’s part,” Mateo said. He ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay, I’ll be the woman.” Archer grinned. “You always lead, after all. I’ve got this.”

Mateo blew out a breath. “Okay.”

He’s nervous, Archer realized. “Hey … if you don’t want—”

“No, I do.” Mateo smiled. “It’s fine.”

“Okay.” Archer nodded at Harley.