“
Mary Ellen called dibs on sending off the DJ, but by her expression when she met back up with us near the pool, we could tell something bad had happened.
"Well, the DJ isn't going anywhere, but we certainly are," she said.
"What do you mean? He isn't leaving?"
"While we were dealing with this train wreck of a wedding, Alfie's daughters convinced the DJ to stick around and play for a party they've arranged inside the mansion."
"You've got to be kidding me," I said.
"Nope. He told me that he doesn't work for me and that we should just go. I'd almost say screw them and let's just leave, but we've got to pack up, so we might as well see what those little she-devils are up to."
We stepped into the foyer to find the entire men's soccer team for the nearby university toting bottles of liquor up the giant circular staircase. Right behind them were the evil daughters, who informed us the party was just beginning for them. Not only did they pay the DJ to stay, but they also took all the remaining liquor from the caterers. Apparently, the girls were resetting the house for a party of their own while Alfie and Camila were gone for the night.
"We are so not getting paid enough to deal with this," said Mary Ellen.
"Agreed." I watched five frat stars stumble out of the kitchen with more half-eaten cake in their hands.
After all, these girls were of age, they technically "lived there," and it wasn't our gig anymore.
"Let's make sure everything from the wedding is accounted for and then get the hell out of this house of horrors," she said.
As we left we could hear the bombastic strains of the DJ blasting "Gold Digger" again. This time, no one cried.
”
”