Page 90 of The Facilitator, Part 2

“Lauren, trust me, they’ve seen worse,” Alex said. I honestly did not want toknow.

“As I said, a picnic on the veranda,” Vivienne said, as she bustled, laying a tablecloth and dishes of cold meats, salads, and seafood on the woodentable.

Mackenzie uncorked a bottle of wine and as he poured, we heard a voice callout.

“Are youhere?”

“Out back, Dad,” Mackenziesaid.

Mack and Sandra walked around the veranda; he patted Mackenzie on the back and grabbed me for a hug. He didn’t say anything, but I also noticed how much frailer he looked from just a few daysago.

“Room for two more?” he said, looking atVivienne.

“My mother wouldn’t know how to cater for less than twenty, there’s always room for more, Mack,” Gabriella said. As we sat, Mackenzie handed outwine.

“The troops have gathered,” Mack said, raising his glass to me. “Those bitches are goingdown!”

Sandra looked at him with a quizzical look on her face. “You watch too much TV,” shesaid.

Everyone around that table had seen my tits in full swing; my face pre, or post-orgasm, and yet they were there to support me despite it. It didn’t quell the level of embarrassment, of course, but it did feel good to know they had myback.

I drank and I drank some more. I continued to drink until Mackenzie carried me upstairs to sleep off the effects. The only time I surfaced was to throw up. I also vaguely remembered Mackenzie holding my hair to one side and then encouraging me to drink a glass of water and swallow down twoAdvil.

* * *

The sun was just aboutto drop over the horizon when I woke. I could hear Mackenzie chatting downstairs and I hoped he was alone. I crept along the hall until I could see over the banister; he was sitting on the infamous couch with his mobile to his ear. He looked up, something had alerted him to mypresence.

“She’s up now,” he said. “I’ll call you later. Yes, I’ll pass thaton.”

He disconnected his call as I walked down thestairs.

“Jerry has apologised about twenty times. I’ve told him that’s not enough,” he said, rising to meet me halfway across the room. “How do youfeel?”

“If you mean do I have a hangover, surprisingly, no. I’m hungry. If you mean about…you know. Then, depressed someone hates me so much to dothat.”

“Let’s make you some tea. Sandra brought some over earlier, fresh ones, so she toldme.”

I curled up on the couch, the other end to the offending arm, while he made me a cup of tea and refreshed his coffeecup.

“You know, we’ve done…things…at the club…but that photograph was such an invasion of our privacy, I think that hurts the most. I’m not sure, thanks to my newsupport network,I’m as worried now about who saw it. Although, I am not looking forward to facing work, just in case. Do you understand?” I said, as he handed me a cup andsaucer.

“Perfectly. What we’ve done has been between consenting adults. There was no permission given there. And I know it wasAddison.”

“How?”

“She isn’t fucking clever enough to disguise an old email address she used in college. Hernickname.”

“Did she take the photothough?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “Does it actually matter? It would be her or him. You have a stack of messages on your phone. I scanned through them, just in case there was something I needed to warn you in advance about,” headded.

I nodded, looking at the offending object on the small coffee table. I’d deal with those anotherday.

“I didn’t say anything stupid over lunch, did I?” Iasked.

“No, you were perfectly entertaining,” helaughed.

I groaned. “And I think Vivienne will be waking up with as much of a headache as you,” headded.