Page 7 of The Facilitator, Part 2

T he next couple of days continued with nothing out of the ordinary. Mackenzie seemed to perk up midweek and reminded me we had a date at the club. I wondered if he was using sex to take his mind off his problem. I wouldn’t complain, of course, well, not for a little while anyway.

“Don’t forget I’m out with Jerry tonight,” I said, as I popped my head around Mackenzie’s office door.

He didn’t answer straight away, but then slowly nodded his head.

“I wish you two would stop this jealousy thing, it’s beginning to annoy me,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m not jealous of…is that what you think?” he said.

“Why are you always snippy when I mention him?”

“Snippy?”

“Sarcastic, dear,” Mary said, as she pushed past me to place a cup of coffee on his desk.

“Am I snippy with Jerry? Do you even know who Jerry is?” he asked her with a smirk.

She tapped her fingers against her lips as if deep in thought.

“The little twerp Lauren worked for, who came here and acted all silly when you bought his company. Best friend of your girlfriend, so yes, you’re jealous.” She turned and walked out.

I wanted to laugh; instead I raised my eyebrows, waiting on his answer.

“Well, if mystic fucking Mary out there believes that, then I guess it must be true,” he overemphasised the mystic fucking Mary . I wanted to chuckle, but I knew he’d just diverted my attention away from Jerry and their jealousy.

“He’s the same and I intend to have a word with him this evening,” I said.

“He’s jealous of me? Well, I don’t mind that.”

“Don’t take the piss. I’m serious.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not jealous of your relationship with Jerry, Lauren.”

“So what had you hesitate when I reminded you I was out with him?”

“Nothing in particular. You go and have a great time. Do you need a car?”

He stood and walked around his desk. He glanced over to see Mary squinting at her computer and paying us no attention.

He grabbed me and pulled me to him, planting a kiss on my closed lips.

His demand, and the pinch to my side had me open my mouth.

I kissed him back because I loved his kisses, but I filed away his need to silence me where Jerry was concerned.

It was a conversation I’d most certainly have with him another day.

He pulled back and stared at me, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

I was conscious of the fact Mary was sitting just a few feet away.

Displays of affection in public weren’t something I was used to; displays of possession, because that was what his kiss was, most certainly wasn’t something I wanted at work.

“I’ll call you when I’m leaving to come home, okay? I’ve texted you the address so you know where I’m going,” I said.

“I don’t need to know…”

I interrupted him, “I might get kidnapped or something. Yes, you need to know where I’m going.”

“Don’t tell him that, dear, he’ll have one of those thingies inserted inside you,” Mary said, not taking her eyes off her computer but tapping the paperback copy of a thriller she had sitting beside her.

I mouthed, “I hope you do insert that thingy inside me.”

Mackenzie roared with laughter. I gave him a wink and left. I could hear him asking Mary exactly what she meant. As the lift doors closed she replied, “One of those tracking thingies, what the fuck did you think I meant?”

I laughed all the way down to my floor, where I grabbed my coat and bag and then headed out. A sleek silver Mercedes was waiting for me. I climbed in the back and gave the driver the address for Frank’s Bar. While I settled back I texted Jerry.

I’ve just left the office; see you there in about a half hour.

He didn’t reply and I wasn’t overly concerned.

We drove in silence to the bar, fighting the London traffic until the driver pulled up outside. I noticed that the bar, unusually, had security on the door.

“What time would you estimate leaving, Miss Perry?” the driver asked.

I felt bad I didn’t know his name. We had a few pool cars with several drivers, and I made a point to learn their names.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know your name?” I said, as I gathered my coat and bag.

“It’s Louis,” he replied, smiling at me in the rear-view mirror.

“I imagine I’ll be wanting to leave about nine, if that’s okay. But can I text if it’s earlier?”

Louis fished around for something in the centre console. He reached back between the seats and handed me a Trymast business card. On the reverse was a mobile number.

“Lovely, thank you. I’ll call if it’s any different to nine.”

I liked the idea of a car waiting for me. As much as I loved Jerry, and I was excited to meet up, I was tired from the disrupted sleep the night before. I was also, and I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, getting anxious about Alex leaving and me taking over completely. I still doubted my ability.

The heat from an air blower above the door hit me as I walked in.

I scanned the room for Jerry, and not seeing him, I headed to the bar.

As it was early, it wasn’t packed and I ordered a glass of wine before taking a seat in a booth facing the door.

I waited. I watched as people came in, some in pairs, some in groups.

Some laughed and headed to the bar, one or two looked sombre, and I wondered if a drink after work was to relieve their stress.

I sipped from my glass and checked my phone.

I waited ten minutes before I sent a text to Jerry.

I’m here, how long before you arrive?

He didn’t reply immediately. As I sat I started to get hot.

I had removed my coat but I could feel my cheeks start to heat up.

The noise around me seemed louder than when I’d first walked in.

I noticed a couple of men in suits at the bar looking my way, talking, and one raised his glass to me.

I didn’t respond, not because I wanted to be rude but because I recognised him.

Years ago, he had played in the same football team as Scott.

He’d been an arrogant arse back then, and the last thing I wanted was a conversation with him.

I averted my gaze to look through the window and out to the street.

I started to sweat, and I couldn’t understand why my legs had started to shake and my heart race.

Sitting in a bar on my own wasn’t something I’d done a lot of; it wasn’t something I’d ever choose to do. I wasn’t that confident and as the minutes ticked on, I started to feel very uncomfortable.

I picked up the phone and dialled. Jerry’s phone went straight to voicemail; I didn’t bother leaving a message because I knew what I was going to do. However, as I gathered my bag I received a text.

Shit, babe, I’m sorry, I lost track of time. I’ll be there in a half hour or thereabouts?

I stared at the message and then pulled the Trymast card from my purse. I sent two texts.

My evening has been cancelled, could you collect me as soon as possible, please? Lauren Perry

I wasn’t entirely sure how to sign off, but I didn’t feel comfortable calling myself Miss Perry. The second text wasn’t so polite.

No! I’m heading home now. I’m not sitting on my own in a bar for another half hour, which, knowing you, could be three-quarters to an hour. Call me tomorrow, I’ll see if I can reschedule.

What pissed me off more was he hadn’t the grace to reply to my second text.

Within fifteen minutes, the silver Mercedes pulled up outside.

I waited for the driver to leave the car and stand by the door.

It was the driver I was expecting, so I left the bar.

He opened the rear passenger door and I settled in my seat, fuming.

As I fumed my mobile vibrated in my hand.

I looked at the screen before I answered.

“Hey, baby, I hear you’re on your way home early. Is everything okay?” Mackenzie asked.

I didn’t think, initially, to ask how he knew, I just assumed the driver would have checked in somewhere.

“Yes, when I finally got hold of Jerry, he said he’d lost track of time and would be another half hour. I didn’t want to sit there on my own,” I said.

“You should have called me, I could have sat with you until he arrived.”

“I’m sure you would have and I didn’t think, to be honest. I…I’m fed up with Jerry for it,” I said.

“Okay,” Mackenzie drew out the word slowly. “I’m sure you’re fed up with him, but is that all?”

“No. I got a little anxious. How dumb is that? I guess, I haven’t sat in bar much on my own, so I felt uncomfortable.”

“It’s not dumb at all, baby. Are you hungry? I’ll have something ready for you to eat, and we can talk privately when you get home.”

I hadn’t thought about the driver knowing my business and realised I actually didn’t want him to. Mackenzie was always conscious of what he said in front of anyone other than our usual driver. He seemed to have a bond with him he didn’t with others.

“I’d like that and yes, I’m starving. I’ll see you soon.”

We said our goodbyes and I settled back into the grey leather seat.

I loved the smell of the pool cars; they were regularly cleaned and always smelled new.

I’d never learned to drive, as I’d lived and worked in London.

I’d be that person tutting and looking at my watch as the bus ran late, or squeezing myself between sweaty bodies on the tube.

I sighed. There was something to be said about being driven around.

The gates creaked open and as we drove towards the house, the porch light came on and the front door opened.

Mackenzie stood there in jeans and a white shirt, untucked and rolled to the elbows.

He held a tea towel in his hand. As we came to a stop, he walked barefoot to open the door for me.

He reached in to take my hand and escort me from the car.

He nodded to the driver and before I had the chance to thank him myself, Mackenzie led me indoors.

“So what happened?” he said, while I shrugged off my coat.