Page 49 of The Facilitator 1

“Fuck off, Daniel,” Mackenzie said, surprisingme.

Daniel laughed, having achieved his objective in annoying Mackenzie, and walkedaway.

“Such a douche,” the elderly woman said to me. I laughed at her choice ofwords.

“And my son, unfortunately. Mackenzie, you have my permission to punch him in the nose, but after the party, please,” sheadded.

Mackenzie laughed and kissed her on both cheeks. “Ma’am, it would be my pleasure to knock your son on his ass, it’s long overdue. But I wouldn’t spoil a party overhim.”

She patted his cheek, perhaps it was a Southern thing as her daughter had done the same, then asked her escort to show her to hertable.

“I love her, so regal. Who is the man with her?” Isaid.

“Latest boyfriend, I think. No, I shudder tothink.”

“So, want to tell me about thedouchewhose own mother gives you permission to punchhim?”

He turned to face me. “He stole mywife.”

I stared at him, unable to utter a word. He stared back at me, not in challenge though, there was a pleading in his eyes to not ask for more information. For a moment we weresilent.

“Our table is being seated,” he said,finally.

I followed him, still stunned at his confession. When I’d Googled him there had been no mention of a marriage, but then I hadn’t really looked beyond confirmation of a South Carolina upbringing and his collegephotos.

A waitress showed me to my seat. I had Mackenzie to one side and the mother’s ‘boyfriend’ to the other. Mrs. Collinsworth sat regally in her chair next to him. I breathed a sigh of relief that Daniel wasn’t on our table. Gabriella placed her hand on my shoulder as she walked to her seat, beside her mother. She leaned down to whisper in myear.

“I just heard what happened, steer clear of Daniel, for Mackenzie’s sake,please?”

“Trust me, I have no intention of getting within five feet ofhim.”

“Mackenzie is very protective and volatile. I’d hate to have my party end in afistfight.”

“It won’t, certainly not because of me.” I smiled up ather.

When she walked off, I turned to see Mackenzie staring atme.

“What was that all about?” heasked.

“Girltalk.”

Wine was poured and I chatted to the ‘boyfriend,’ whose name I discovered was Paul. He was very charming, regaled the table with funny stories and kept us all entertained. I could see why Mrs. Collinsworth liked to have him around, although there had to be at least a thirty year agegap.

Small plates of seared duck breast in a balsamic sauce were placed in front of us, artisan bread rolls were offered from a basket, and more wine was poured. I opted to alternate, one glass of wine and one glass ofwater.

I was spoken to and treated as if I was one of the family. Mrs. Collinsworth grilled me on British etiquette and asked what royals I’d had the pleasure of meeting. She told me she was on a visit, specifically for her daughter’s birthday party and expected Mackenzie to take her on a tour around London. I got the impression no one said no to Mrs. Collinsworth. She reminded me of a character fromGone With TheWind.

I told her she must do afternoon tea at The Ritz, and it pleased me when she’d asked me to arrange it and join her. She loved my accent and wanted to spend some ‘girl’ time. As the evening wore on, I had to catch the guilt that bubbled in my stomach. Those people thought I was Mackenzie’s partner, and I knew Iwasn’t.

The table was cleared and Mackenzie stood, holding his hand out to me. I reached for it and we walked to the bar. He asked for two whiskeys, both with ice. The bartender placed two coasters on the bar, then the glasses ontop.

“Enjoying yourself?” heasked.

“Very muchso.”

Other than the night out with Jenny and Sally, it was the most enjoyable evening I’d had in over a year. The band struck up and we turned to watch the sprightly Mrs. Collinsworth be waltzed around the dancefloor.

“He’s good for her, keeps her young,” Isaid.

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