"Oh my God, Michael Bublé is here. Michael Bublé is here," Danielle danced on her toes, a back and forth jog of excitement.
"Danielle, you're spilling gravy over the side," Abigail told her on the final trip to Beckett's truck loaded with containers and supplies.
"Oh shoot, sorry. Hey, do you think we could stick around and just watch some of the—"
"We're not guests here tonight," Abigail reminded her. "And our work for the evening is done. Thank God," she added on a breath.
"How about I stay with Beckett? Then you can take his truck and I'll drive him home?" Danielle offered as she slid the container into the back of the truck. "Since it stopped raining, they're going to do fireworks while Michael Bublé performs later as a sort of finale. I promise to blend in and take Beckett home afterward."
Abigail finagled the stainless steel containers to make room for the last of them. "Beckett will not be staying for the remainder of the party, Danielle. He knows that."
"Of course Beckett isn't staying for the party." Ben walked up with a handful of serving spoons. "We forgot these," he said, placing them on the floor of his SUV then shutting the door. "He has, however, left with one of the guests from the party. The female variety."
Abigail rolled her eyes. "Of course he did."
Danielle, deflated, stared longingly toward the terrace then returned to helping Abigail load the last few containers. "Hey, did you lose your necklace? I've never seen you without it."
"Something like that," Abigail muttered as she hoisted the tailgate of the truck, closing it with a thud. "I'll tell you what," she said to Danielle, changing the subject. "Why don't you go find Kelly, make sure we've got everything, do a final sweep, and take your time coming back."
At Danielle's widened, eager eyes, Abigail added, "But you better show up at the pub for your brunch shift tomorrow."
"I will, I promise. Oh, thank you, thank you."
"Otherwise I'll have to give your bonus to someone else," Abigail noted loftily, then smiled at Danielle's look of shock.
"Bonus? We get a bonus?"
"You guys worked hard tonight. I'll have it for you tomorrow."
"You're the best." Danielle leaned in, giving Abigail a quick squeeze then strolled off.
"That was a nice consolation prize." Ben sided up next to Abigail.
"Consolation prize?"
"I think she'd prefer Beckett over cash but he hasn't noticed yet"
Abigail watched Danielle disappear around the side of the house. "I know what that's like," she said, noting the irony, the disappointment in herself, the honest truth of it all.
"How so?" Ben slid his hands in his pockets, studying his sister.
"A story for another time. Right now I'm tired and I'd like to get home, unload, and be happy this is over."
"How much did we make after costs and all that?"
Abigail shook her head. "It cost me a hell of a lot but I think we'll come out ahead in the long run."
At Ben's frown, she rose to her toes and kissed his cheek. "Meet you back at the pub? I'll buy you a beer if you help me unload."
"Race you."
She laughed. "Just don't hit my sad little Lucky that's asleep on the side of the road."
"Poor Lucky," Ben said as he got into his car, started his engine.
"Poor Lucky," Abigail echoed, climbing into Beckett's truck.
She glanced in the rearview mirror to the lights of the grand estate behind her, knowing she should've found Declan, should've said parting words to him, but she couldn't find any that matched what she was feeling, nor could she muster up the will to return to the party.
He'd been brutal, but so had she.
Drained to her core, she decided another time was best. She'd let things be as they were for now, go home, unpack their vehicles, enjoy a beer with her brother, then dwindle into a deep sleep.
It was what it was, she heard float through her mind. Then she let out an exhausted chuckle as she putted slowly down the driveway, away from the palatial party behind her. Nothing was what she thought it was. Absolutely nothing at all.