Page 33 of The Facilitator: Part 2
“No. He can’t...Jesus.”
Mackenzie stood and helped me to my feet. “Oh God, what do we do?” I asked, as we walked back to thecar.
“We do nothing until we know for sure. You make a point of meeting up with him soon and see what he says. If it is Addison, this isn’t good,Lauren.”
“I know that,” I snapped. He picked up my hand and we walked in silence for a while. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. Could she be that dangerous forhim?”
“Yes, I believe she could. But that’s me speaking. Talk toGabriella.”
“I don’t need confirmation of what you say. I believeyou.”
We arrived back at the car. The car park was mostly empty and I was dismayed to see a scratch down the side of the car. Mackenzie swore and ran his fingers overit.
“I’m sorry, did I do that?” Iasked.
“No, I doubt it, that’s a key scratch. Never mind, it can be repaired. Come on, let’s go home and eat. I’ll cook foryou.”
We had missed lunch and as the evening drew in, we fought the traffic back toLondon.
The journey home was longer than normal and a little fraught. Mackenzie wasn’t the most patient in traffic and he constantly swore at other drivers. I guessed Jerry’s news hadn’t helped hismood.
Addison was poison; I believed that. I hadn’t learned all there was to know about her, but to have sex with her cousin, to intend to pass that child off as Mackenzie’s…She wasn’t the type I’d want for Jerry. He was a grown man, a man I’d known for years and my best friend, but still a grown man. Did I have a right to interfere? Jerry was at a loss of what to do with his life. He had wealth, he still had plenty of years left to enjoy that wealth, and he doted on his elderly mum, so I knew he wouldn’t be jetting off to the U.S. anytime soon. Maybe he just needed to fuck her, have his fun, and when she was ready to leave, he’d get back to moping around. Then there was the tiniest, rose-tinted, glass half-full part of me that wondered if maybe she’d changed. If losing Mackenzie had been so devastating it had caused her to take a long hard look at herself. Maybe they both deserved a littlelove.
I shook the thought from my mind. When I dissected the one time I’d met her, it was clear to see how manipulative she could be. Whether she thought there was anything between Mackenzie and me at that time—and it would have been hard to come to that conclusion as we didn’t even know—she still made a point to refer to herself as his wife. She’d clung to him, deferred to him over food choices, telling me and Jerry he washers.
“You’re deep in thought,” Mackenzie said, bringing me back to thepresent.
“I’m just thinking whether I have the right to warn Jerry about Addison. He’s a grownman.”
“Would he do the same to you? If he saw you making an obvious mistake, would he be that friend who would sit you down and voice hisconcerns?”
I wasn’t actually sure. Jerry was Jerry, he could be insensitive and selfish; he always sided with me where Scott was concerned. However, he had wanted to date, or just fuck, me himself. I played safe, went for the option I’d hopedfor.
“Of course he would. I’ll tell him I support whatever decisions he makes, but he really needs to take care where she is concerned and see how the conversation flows fromthere.”
“I’m more than happy to tell him what he needs to be concerned about,” Mackenziesaid.
“And he won’t believe you. She’s your ex-wife, don’t doubt for one minute the first thing he will do is try to warn me off you,” I said, with alaugh.
Mackenzie shrugged his shoulders in agreement. “I guess so. To be honest, she can’t do us any harm. She’ll try, and my concern is for you over Jerry every day of the week. I don’t want you dragged into something he is too weak to see his way outof.”
We arrived home and the lights alongside the driveway lit the way back to the garages. Even in idle, the rumble of the car’s engine bouncing off the garage walls was impressive. I guessed Mackenzie thought so, too, as he revved the engine for no reason other than to enjoy thesound.
“Boys’ toys,” I said, as I opened the door to climbout.
“You’re the only toy I need,” he replied, ever the charmer. If it were at all possible to roll eyeballs, I wouldhave.
Call it female intuition, or heightened senses, or spatial awareness—if that was even a thing—but something felt off when I walked through thedoor.
“Has Gabriella been here today?” I asked. I sniffed theair.
“No, she doesn’t come and go when she feels like it. She might be my best friend, but this is my house,” he replied, walking ahead and into thekitchen.
“Does she have akey?”
“Yes, she’s been here when I’ve been away, she’s stayed overnight in the past,why?”
“I can smellperfume.”
