Page 18 of The Facilitator: Part 2
“I’d like that and yes, I’m starving. I’ll see yousoon.”
We said our goodbyes and I settled back into the grey leather seat. I loved the smell of the pool cars; they were regularly cleaned and always smelled new. I’d never learned to drive, as I’d lived and worked in London. I’d be that person tutting and looking at my watch as the bus ran late, or squeezing myself between sweaty bodies on the tube. I sighed. There was something to be said about being drivenaround.
The gates creaked open and as we drove towards the house, the porch light came on and the front door opened. Mackenzie stood there in jeans and a white shirt, untucked and rolled to the elbows. He held a tea towel in his hand. As we came to a stop, he walked barefoot to open the door for me. He reached in to take my hand and escort me from the car. He nodded to the driver and before I had the chance to thank him myself, Mackenzie led meindoors.
“So what happened?” he said, while I shrugged off mycoat.
“I don’t know, to be honest. I was looking forward to meeting him and when I arrived, I think I was surprised to see security on the door. Maybe that made me anxious, it’s unusual. It’s always been a fairly quiet bar, somewhere you can go and actuallytalk.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever beenthere.”
Mackenzie took my coat and set it over a chair in the hall. He placed my handbag on the top and then took my hand in his. We walked into the kitchen and a glass of red wine was waiting for me. I slid onto a stool and watched as he tossed some pasta in a sauce. I could smell garlic and herbs. Mackenzie was never stressed when he cooked. Everything seemed to come together as he wanted, when he wanted it to. He had many pots on the go, and I’d be in a mess if I were the one in front of thestove.
Within five minutes, he had a bowl of pasta, some garlic bread, and homemade pizza on the breakfast bar. Mackenzie took the stool beside me, we clinked glasses and while I took a sip, he placed his back on the surface. He served a slice of pizza, dished a bowl of pasta, and then turned slightly tome.
“Talk to me, Lauren,” he said, as he bit into hispizza.
“Not while this food is in front of me, it’sdelicious.”
To eat while Mackenzie was staring at me was extremely off-putting. I wasn’t giving in, though. I nibbled slowly. I ignored the ring of my mobile assuming—hoping—it would be Jerry calling to apologise, and I sipped my wine. When I was done, I finally turned towardshim.
“Jerry was really excited to meet, he said he had gossip, but he also sounded distracted. Then to not show! He said he lost track of time, but I think he forgot and he’s never done that before. There’s a distance between us and it makes me sad. He was the only friend I had for a long time, Mackenzie. He saw me through some horrible times and yet, right now, I don’t feel that I matter much to him. I don't knowwhy.”
The drive home had given me time to think. Other than his last call to me, it had been me constantly calling, emailing, and texting him. All of a sudden he was too busy for me, and I guessed it stung alittle.
Mackenzie sighed. “I hate that he was all you had,Lauren.”
“There’s not much you, or me for that matter, can do about it now. But I’m not happy about being stood up. I’ll speak to him tomorrow,” I said, with asmile.
I wasn’t going to dwell on Jerry anymore that evening, not when I had the most gorgeous, sexy, and caring man sitting, concerned, in front of me. I slid from my stool, grabbed the phone from my bag, and walked back. As I sat, I switched itoff.
“There, not going to worry about him tonight at all,” Isaid.
“You have your dinner with Gabriella tomorrow, and then we’ll visit the club at the weekend, that should take your mind off him,” Mackenziesaid.
“Do I get to know what will happen at the club?” I asked, lowering my voice alittle.
“No, Lauren. That’s my domain, my rules,” he said with a wickedsmile.
“There I was thinking you were all about empowerment and equality,” Iteased.
“And that, I am. Except for this weekend. This weekend is all about what I want.” He gave me a wink as he collected the dishes to stack thedishwasher.
Mackenzie could switch from sexy, controlling, and mysterious, to domesticated in the blink of an eye. I laughed as he rinsed andstacked.
Later that evening, we sat on the sofa and read books. Mackenzie was reading a biography—he wasn’t into fiction—and I had my mafia romance to continue. The ringing of a telephone interrupted us. It was unusual for someone to call on the house phone, like most, I guessed, we used our mobiles way more. For a moment, we sat and looked at each other, unsure of what to do. However, we both stood the minute the answerphone kicked in and it was Addison’s voice weheard.
“Hi, Mackenzie, how are you? I haven’t heard from you for ages. Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I’m in the UK. It would be lovely to meet up; I have some exciting news you might like tohear.”
She drew out her words, exaggerating her Southern accent and made no mention of me. Mackenzie walked toward the phone on the sideboard and snatched it from the base. By the time he’d raised it to his ear, she had hungup.
“What do you think she meant?” I asked, as he strode back with the phone still in hishand.
“She’s a bitch, shame she hung up,” hereplied.
I knew she wasn’t his favourite person, but the venom in his words was out of character for him. He was also back to pinching the bridge of his nose andsighing.
“Do you want to call her back?” Iasked.
