Page 65 of The Facilitator: Part 2
“How do you know about this deal?” he asked, then listened somemore.
“I think you should email me all the details you have, let me look into it. Lauren and I have plans for the next few hours, but get that over to me soon and I’ll read later,okay?”
He clicked off the call and placed his phone back on thetable.
“Jerry hasthe most amazing offer, something I would never have dreamed of investing in,to tell meabout.”
His mimic of Jerry’s east end of London accent was so spot on Ichuckled.
“Did he tell you anything about it?” Iasked.
“No, he said that, for now, it has to stay top secret and only a couple of people know. He was told not to tell anyone, and he very much overemphasised ‘anyone’ but he felt I needed to be in on thedeal.”
“Well, I guess that was kind of him,” Isaid.
“Maybe. I’ll see what this top secret prospect is when he emails overdetails.”
I finished my tea, ran a brush through my hair, and then tied it in a high ponytail. I swiped some mascara over my eyelashes and a little gloss over my lips. I didn’t need a handbag, and it felt quite liberating to leave my phone on the bedside cabinet. I was back down in less than fiveminutes.
“Are you sure I’m appropriately dressed?” Iasked.
“Listen, Lauren, my dad will insist on paying, which means we’re likely to end up at the diner, and he’ll tell you he eats there to support the owner and because he genuinely likes thefood.”
“Maybe he’s telling the truth,” I said, partly teasing, partly chastising him. It was quite a snobbish statement from a man I knew not to have a snobbish bone in his body. It surprisedme.
“I think he’s going to love you,” Mackenzie said, with alaugh.
We left the house and I immediately missed the sound of the sea. We drove just a short distance to an urbanised area and the complex of identical cream-rendered bungalows andflats.
We parked the car and Mackenzie held the door open for me to exit. We walked through a perfectly manicured garden, and I realised it was fake grass, past a seating area where a gentleman raised his hand to Mackenzie. He waved back as we neared his dad’s ground-floor flat. It was opened before he knocked, and a man so very different to Mackenzie stood theresmiling.
“Lauren, my father, Mackenzie Miller, thefirst.”
He reached out with his hand and clasped it around mine. He shook, roughly, and smiled broadly. “Mack, call me Mack. Come on in, Sandra is doing her hair, she’ll be hours yet,” hesaid.
The apartment was larger than I was expecting. It was cool with all the drapes pulled and the air conditioning on high. I was surprised by how modern it was decorated. Pieces of abstract art adorned the walls. Mack caught me staring atone.
“I paint, sometimes I even manage to sell some,” he said, with achuckle.
When he did that, there was no doubting he was Mackenzie’s father. Although so different in looks, their voice and their laugh wereidentical.
“I love that red one. I’d hate to insult you by asking what it is, but…what is it?” Isaid.
The harmony between father and son as they laughed made me laugh along withthem.
“Now there’s a sound I don’t hear very often,” I heard. I turned to see a much younger woman leave a room. She closed the door behind her but I’d glimpsed thebed.
“Sandra, I’d like you to meet Lauren,” Mackenzie said. He rose and accepted her kiss to his cheek before she turned tome.
“Lauren, we’ve heard so much about you. We’re thrilled to finally meet you,” shesaid.
She spoke like someone much older, or perhaps someone who had been in the company of someone much older for a long time. I had to conceal mysurprise.
“I’m sorry that it’s taken this long for us to visit,” I said. She raised her eyebrows at me and I guessed I’d said somethingwrong.
“How about we take a walk down to Ed’s? You know how much we like eating there, and I think Lauren here will enjoy what he has to offer,” Mack said. I didn’t want to look at Mackenzie and see hissmirk.
“I think that’s just fine,” Ireplied.
