Page 23 of The Facilitator 1

“One day. Jerry isn’t in for the long term. And when a business is profitable, at its peak, it’s criminal to hold on toit.”

“It’s criminal to sell it and potentially put employees out ofwork.”

“Who said anything about putting people out of work? I find buyers that want to take the business to the next level. That in itself ensures employees are secure. Besides, I’m a businessman, Lauren, not acharity.”

“Wow.” I wasn’t sure what other answer to give. I kept my gaze firmly ahead and my mouthclosed.

“You think I snuck in, persuaded Jerry to sell me his business, with the intent of making you all unemployed? He sought meout.”

I refused to engage in any further conversation with him. We drove the rest of the way insilence.

As we pulled into the underground car park of my block, I released my seat belt and reached down in the footwell for mybriefcase.

“Now you’re pissed,” hesaid.

“No, disappointed. I’m not sure I like you verymuch.”

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting, I think that’s alie.”

I turned in my seat to face him, hoping he’d see the indignation on myface.

“Your body betrays you, Lauren,” he said, with that fucking gravelly voice that had my stomach clenchingagain.

“Fuck mybody…”

“I’d like to,” he said, interruptingme.

“I meant; I don’t care what my bodytellsyou. My mind thinksdifferently.”

“Then it’s your mind I have to work harder on. Have a goodevening.”

Had he just dismissed me? He had, he’d fucking dismissedme!

I climbed from the car and slammed the door behind me, wincing at the sound, and too scared to look back to see if I’d shattered a window orsomething.

I stomped off, realising I was heading in completely the wrong direction but not wanting to turn around and pass him again. I kept going, rounding a corner and then waited with my back to the wall. I heard the engine roar and echo around the half-empty car park. I waited until that roar became distant and I knew he’d left. Then I walked back the way I’d come and up thestairs.

“Fucking prick,” I said to myself, as I huffed and puffed up four flights ofstairs.

I should have taken the lift, or maybe, I needed to get a littlefitter.

I slammed the door of my apartment once I’d entered, and then felt silly. There was no one to hear or see my tantrum. I threw my briefcase on the kitchen table. As I did, I saw a small white card poking from the side pocket. I pulled itout.

Printed in black was his name and underneath a mobile phone number. No company details, nothing. I hadn’t noticed him slip that in the pocket and wondered when he’d actually had the time to do so. I flipped it between my fingers. Part of me wanted to tear it up; part of me, the part I was trying to control, waspleased.

“Well, Mackenzie Miller, maybe two can play your game,” I said. “I need ahobby.”

6

The restof the week passed uneventfully. I didn’t see Mackenzie in the office at all. I’d asked Jerry when he was due back in and received raised eyebrows and a smirk. What was it with men and their smirks? According to Jerry, he was out of town, onbusiness.

I’d been pleased when Friday came around and did something I hadn’t done for a long time. I left work on time. I arrived home, stripped off my suit, and stood under the shower. I had a date with Netflix and a takeaway. I’d just pulled on a pair of PJ’s and wrapped a towel around my head when I heard a knock on my door. I stood for a moment. No one should be able to get past the front door without the code or callingup.

It has to be security, Ithought.

I opened the apartment door, and then cursed myself for not checking the spy hole. Mackenzie was standing there in jeans and a shirt, open at the neck, and with the fucking sleeves rolled to his elbows, tempting me with those forearms. He held two bottles ofwine.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, red or white,” hesaid.

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