Page 115 of The Facilitator 1

“I like it. Anywhere I’m not allowed to go, in this grand house ofyours?”

“You can go wherever you want. I want you to feel at home here,Lauren.”

“It would be hard not to feel at home, I love ithere.”

He smiled at my words. “Good, if you want to rearrange anything, goahead.”

He talked as if I was moving in and not just spending a couple ofdays.

“Oh, don’t touch my cars, massive no on thatone.”

“I can’t drive anyway, maybe you can teachme?”

“To drive my Aston Martins? Are you fucking crazy?” He laughed as he placed two coffees on the breakfast bar. “I’ll buy you some beat up Ford, and you can learn inthat.”

“I was kidding, I don’t need to learn todrive.”

“Everyone needs to drive, Lauren. Maybe we should organise somelessons.”

“I live in London, I’m about to work a five minute walk away from where I live, well, where I live for now. I don’t need todrive.”

“What do you mean, where you live fornow?”

“I’m going to sell the apartment. It’s not about the money, I just don’t want to live thereanymore.”

“Because of lastnight?”

“No, I made that decision a few days ago. Because it’s lonely, because it holds memories I’d rather nothave.”

“You’relonely?”

“Of course I’m lonely. For the first time in my life, I’m on my own, Mackenzie. I haven’t gotten used to it yet. I’m sure I will, but I don’t want to do it in thatapartment.”

“Where will you live?” he asked, his voice had lowered alittle.

“I don’t know; depends what I canafford.”

“I’ll send a courier to pick up your laptop, is there anything else you need?” he asked, completely changing thesubject.

“I’ll give Jenny a call, I’ll tell her I had a fall or something. Slipped out theshower.”

“I’m also going to report what Scott did to Gabriella, she needs to know so she can keep him off the premises. He’s supposed to be working his notice but that isn’t going to happennow.”

“Do you haveto?”

“Yes. I won’t have that man near myproperty.”

“I hope that doesn’t refer to me,” I said, with a laugh. He placed his coffee cup down andstood.

“I’d neither insult you that way, nor presume that you were mine. I have to make a call to the police, see whathappened.”

I watched him walk from the room, holding his body tight. I’d been in his house no more than half an hour and already there wastension.

“We have to have that chat,” I whispered to his retreatingback.

While he made his call, I decided to explore the house. I picked up my cup and started on the ground floor. The living room was vast, and I wondered if he’d used an interior designer. Two brown leather sofas faced each other in the centre of the room, a large low table sat in the middle. Although comfortable looking, it didn’t seem that he used it that often. Cushions were propped on the sofa at precise angles. The room was lit with two large windows looking out to thefront.

Another room was set out as a cinema room, a huge TV screen dominated one wall and a less formal sofa faced it. I wasn’t sure if it could be called a sofa, it was more like a bed, such was itssize.

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