Ellie nodded. “Very true. Probably not a good look.”
“I tell you what looks good, though …” I turned to give the room my full attention again.
Ellie grinned with pride. “Not bad, huh?”
“You guys did an amazing job.”
“Ah, well, as much as I would like to take all of the credit, we did have a little help.”
I curved my brow.
“You didn’t honestly think the three of us could have done it so quickly on our own? Between Tess’s meticulously slow painting and Adam’s “ooh, I love this song” disruptions with every song on the radio, we would never have finished.” She shrugged. “So Chris called in some reinforcements.”
“Hell, yeah, I did,” Chris said. I turned around to find him leaning against the open sliding doorway. His face grubby with dirt, his white shirt and jeans covered in grime, he wiped his brows with a gloved hand.
“Welcome back,” he said, readjusting his sleeve. A pang of guilt spiked through me as I thought how I had been busy joyriding while everyone else had got their hands dirty. Even strangers were working harder than I was. Truth be known, I hadn’t exactly expected anyone to show up to the working bee, but I had obviously underestimated how the locals felt about my dad.
I curtsied. “I am but your humble servant, Christopher.”
“Ha! That will be the day.” He pushed off from the door frame and headed back towards the beer garden. “How about you help out with the barbecue?” he yelled over his shoulder.
Barbecue? Now that I could do!
***
A long line of dishevelled, grotty workers waited patiently as one by one they claimed their well-earned lunch. Sausages or hamburgers with onions and coleslaw.
“God bless Don the butcher.” Tess’s mum, Jenny McGee, smiled. “That man is a saint.”
“I can’t believe he donated all this for the working bee.” I looked over the massive pile of meat on the barbecue.
“That’s Don for you,” added Jeff as he stirred up a pile of cooked onions on the barbecue.
I was on bread and meat duty, having been given the task of asking, “Onions or coleslaw?” Tess was on drink duty, with Coke, Diet Coke, Fanta, or Solo at the ready.
We worked like a long-lined production team, not missing a beat, feeding the hungry masses with a joke and a smile. Yeah, I could work the Henderson charm all right.
Ringer got to the front of the queue and grinned like a fool. “Just coleslaw please, Amy.”
“What, no onions with your burger? Got a big night planned then?” I teased.
“You never know your luck in the big city.” He laughed.
“Wise choice, Ringer – onion breath, not hot!” My eyes settled on a group of Dad’s friends. “I think there are going to be some really unhappy wives tonight.”
Ringer grimaced as he moved on to grab a drink from Tess. I was still laughing when I turned to the next in line.
“What will it…?” I paused, my words falling short as Sean stood before me, with an unnerving gleam in his eyes.
“Be?” he finished off my sentence.
From being someone who was totally killing it on the food station, proving myself to be quite the caterer extraordinaire, I had managed to completely lose my nerve and turn into jelly in one foul swoop. I stammered and clumsily knocked over the sauce bottle, only to nearly fall backwards as my legs hit the back of the esky.
“Whoa, look out!” laughed Jeff.
Smooth, Amy, real smooth.
Acting as if nothing had just happened, I quickly gathered myself, trying not to look at Sean’s crooked grin. Instead, I grabbed for a slice of bread and confidently looked at him.
“Sausage or burger?”
Sean watched me unflinchingly. “Burger.”
Right, easy. Get it together, Amy.
I grabbed the tongs and a pattie and placed it on the buttered bread. Yep, no problem. So far so good.
“Onions or coleslaw?”
“Coleslaw thanks, Amy.” The way he spoke my name on his lips sounded too intimate for such a public place. It sounded low and promising.
Oh my God, maybe there was a gas leak on the barbecue because I was clearly losing my mind. I worked lightning fast to hand over his hamburger with a serviette, just wanting him to move along the line and be gone.
“Ha! No onions for you either, Murph?” Jeff asked.
Sean grinned. “Well, you never know your luck in a small town.” He was speaking to Jeff McGee, but he was looking directly at me. He grabbed for the sauce and applied it liberally to his burger, then placed it back on the table and winked at me. I watched Sean make his way over to join Toby and Stan at one of the finished tables.
“You might want to close your mouth,” Tess whispered, elbowing me in the ribs. “There’s a few flies hanging around the barbie; you don’t want to swallow one.”