The Facilitator

by Tracie Podger

  I willed the week to fly by and it did. Although, the closer it got to Friday, the more anxious I’d become. I hadn’t heard from Mackenzie at all. I toyed with sending him a text or even calling him. I didn’t know what his family issues were, perhaps it was something serious and he’d forgotten about the party. I decided to pack my overnight bag, just in case.

  I hated just sitting around waiting, but I wasn’t going to chase him. I had to remind myself we didn’t have a relationship, and even if one was on offer, I wasn’t sure it was what I needed right then.

  By the time it had gotten to nine o’clock that Friday evening, I’d resigned myself to the fact he had either forgotten or something major was keeping him away and unable to text.

  I tried my hardest not to feel pissed off. I kept reminding myself that until I knew, I couldn’t allow the sense of disappointment to overwhelm me. I opened a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. I decided to waste some time watching a movie and curled up on the sofa.

  I was halfway through, not really watching, a shoot ‘em up film when the intercom buzzed. Not expecting anyone, which made me chuckle as I never expected anyone, I was slow to respond. It buzzed for a second time. I rose and pressed the speaker button.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me, can you open the door?”

  Thankfully, the intercom came with a camera. The voice was distorted and not immediately identifiable. I saw Mackenzie looking directly at the camera and I buzzed him in. I gave it a minute then opened the front door as he exited the lift.

  “Hi,” I said. “You look really tired, are you okay?”

  “I literally just got off a plane, came straight from the airport.”

  I held the door open to allow him to walk in. “I was watching a movie,” I said, not sure he’d want to know that.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Can I get you a glass of wine?”

  “That sounds better.”

  His answers were clipped, he obviously wasn’t about to explain his silence, and it wasn’t my place to push. I poured him a glass and he followed me to the living room.

  “I can start it again if you want,” I said.

  “What it is?”

  I gave him the title but since I hadn’t been concentrating, couldn’t tell him the plot. “I’ve seen it, carry on from where you were.”

  I curled up in the place I’d vacated and he sat beside me, but with enough of a gap to make me edgy. Something was clearly off.

  Within a half-hour he’d drunk the glass of wine and was asleep. Jet lag must have gotten to him. I switched the movie off and gently slid from the sofa. I took off his shoes and slowly raised his legs onto the footstool. I didn’t want to disturb him, but the angle at which he had fallen asleep, meant he was going to have a stiff neck when he woke. I pulled a throw from the back of the sofa and covered him with it.

  I watched him for a moment. The stubble around his chin was a little longer, and I wondered if that was simply because he’d let it grow or not taken care of himself as well as he usually did. Even in sleep, his brow furrowed as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. I left him sleeping and headed for my bedroom.

  I pulled on a tank top and shorts and climbed into bed. Maybe I should have woken him; perhaps I should have offered him my bed. I tossed and turned to get comfortable.

  It was some hours later that I felt him join me. He slid into the bed behind me and pulled me into his chest. He curled around me without a word, and I fell back to sleep.

  ****

  “Good morning,” he said when I woke. He was dressed and standing with a cup of coffee.

  I shuffled up into a sitting position. “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Eight, just past,” he said as he consulted his watch. He held out the mug.

  “Remind me to get your coffee from the car. It’s been in there for days.”

  I took a sip, although coffee wasn’t my normal morning drink. “Will it still be okay?”

  “Sure, if not, we’ll just get more.”

  He sat on the side of the bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or text. I had some family drama to deal with. It messed up my mind.”

  “That’s okay, I got a little worried. About you, not about the weekend.”

  “Talking about this party, we leave in an hour,” he said with a smile.

  “I bought a card, you’ll have to tell me whose party it is.”

  “No need for cards. I paid for the party, that’s enough of a gift.”

  He stood. “I found pastries,” he said, as he left the room.

  I placed the mug of coffee on the side and headed for the shower. I tied my hair in a bun on top of my head to save it from getting wet. It didn’t appear we had the time for me to wash and blow dry it. Once showered, I pulled on some underwear, jeans, and buttoned up a shirt. I grabbed a jumper, some socks and my Converse, and then headed to the kitchen.

  While I sat at the kitchen table eating a pastry, I pulled on my socks and shoes.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Sussex Coast. I thought we could stop for lunch, there’s an old pub in Rye, then relax for a couple of hours before the party.”

  “Sounds like a nice idea, thank you for inviting me. Do you have to go home for clothes?”

  “No, I have enough clean from my trip.”

  We chatted throughout the journey, but once again I noticed that evasiveness when I got too personal. He hadn’t mentioned the family drama and I didn’t ask. He was happy to talk about his businesses but anything else had me feeling like I was intruding. Once again, I questioned exactly what this thing was that was going on between us.

  We stopped at The George Inn, an old pub in Rye, for lunch. Although I’d visited Rye before, I’d never been inside that pub. It was quaint, with little annex rooms and open fireplaces. I learned it was also a hotel and vowed I’d return to stay there one day. I could picture myself curled up on one of the sofas in the little nooks, reading in front of an open fire with a glass of wine.

  Once lunch was done, we continued our journey to the hotel.

  The hotel we arrived at was a large manor house, set in beautifully manicured grounds. Mackenzie pulled the car to the front entrance and popped a button for the boot to open. A porter collected the bags and loaded them onto a trolley. We followed him in to reception, where Mackenzie handed over his car keys to allow them to park it. He checked us in; it was as he’d collected the key and we started for the lift, I heard his name being called.

  “Gabriella,” he said, and I watched the broad smile he’d given her spread across his face.

  “I wasn’t expecting you this early,” she said in an American accent as she strode over.

  Jerry was correct; she was stunning. Tall, blonde, manicured, and I was immediately thankful when she caught sight of me and smiled some more.

  “Lauren, it’s great to finally meet you. I’m thrilled you’re able to join us tonight,” she said. I detected a Southern accent.

  I stepped forward and held out my hand, she ignored it and pulled me into a hug, I laughed.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” I said, once she’d released me.

  I wondered what kind of conversation Mackenzie had with her, she’d said finally as if she’d been expecting to meet me before then.

  “You look exhausted,” she said to Mackenzie.

  “I am,” he replied.

  “Go and rest, we're not doing business this weekend. It’s all about me,” she said, exaggerating her accent.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied. It made my heart flutter to hear a slight Southern twang appear in his accent when he spoke to her.

  “You hear that, Lauren. He sure knows who the boss is,” she said and then winked.

  “She’s about the only woman on earth capable of kicking my ass,” he said.

  I laughed. It was another side to Mackenzie I hadn’t seen before and I enjoyed their banter.

  Gabriella left us and we
continued towards the lift. “I really like her,” I said.

  “I guess we have that same relationship you and Jerry do. Good friends and we work well together.”

  Not that I should have, but I felt a sense of relief when he’d told me they were just good friends. There was no way I’d be able to compete with her. That thought though, pulled me up short. I shouldn’t even have been thinking that way.

  “She’s your right hand man, so Jerry tells me,” I said, once the lift doors closed behind me.

  “She is, has been for many years. I couldn’t function without her.”

  “And it’s her party?”

  “Yes, although don’t mention her age, she’d stab me if I told anyone.”

  I laughed out loud. “How old is she?” I whispered.

  He leaned towards my ear, cupping his hand around his mouth, not that there was anyone else in the lift to hear.

  “Forty, but do not say I told you that.”

  “You’re kidding me, she doesn't look a day older than I do.”

  Either I’d had a hard life or she had phenomenal skin, or a great plastic surgeon. She didn’t have a wrinkle on her face, her skin was perfectly clear, and her eyes bright.

  “It’s that Southern gal thing. They don’t sit in the sun, take care of themselves, and she has good genes. You should see her mother.”

  We had arrived at our floor, which had only two doors. Mackenzie checked the number on the key card and headed for one. He opened it and allowed me to enter the suite. The porter had obviously arrived before us as, when I walked into the bedroom to investigate, our bags were laid on the bed.

  I unzipped my suit carrier, taking out my dress to hang immediately, fearing it would be wrinkled if I left it in there too long.

  I heard Mackenzie on the phone so decided to continue to unpack. I looked at his suit carrier, should I unpack for him? I unzipped and took out a suit, a white shirt and tie, and hung them up; I’d leave him to do the rest. I wasn’t sure how comfortable he, or I, would be with me rifling around his underwear and toiletries.

  I stood and looked around the room. The large, ornate bedstead that dominated the room blended well with the fairly modern interior. On each corner were wooden posts, beautifully carved. I took my toiletries into the bathroom. If there was such a thing as shower envy, I experienced it then. The shower was the width of the room. There was no door and it had a small wooden bench, although why someone would want to sit, I didn’t know, a huge showerhead and jets protruded from the wall.

  I placed my toiletry bag on the counter that housed two sinks and walked back into the bedroom.

  “I do believe I have shower envy,” I said, as I walked back into the living area.

  Mackenzie was sitting on the sofa with some papers on his lap.

  “It’s pretty neat, isn’t it?”

  “You’ve stayed here before then?”

  “Of course. I ordered champagne,” he said, not expanding on when he’d visited the hotel.

  A knock at the door interrupted any further conversation. Mackenzie opened it and allowed room service to lay a tray containing an ice bucket, champagne, and two fluted glasses on a consul table. He thanked them, signed the docket and, once they had left, opened the bottle and poured only the one glass.

  “Are you not having one?” I asked, expecting him to hand me the glass.

  “Take off your shirt,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I asked you to.”

  He took a sip of the champagne. I unbuttoned my shirt and removed it.

  “Take off your bra.”

  “Are you going to ask me to remove each item of clothing individually?”

  “You’ll find this more erotic if you kept your mouth shut.”

  I blinked, rapidly, a couple of times. I wanted to call him out on his comment, but he did that thing with his eyes, the stare that had me rooted to the spot. I removed my bra.

  “Jeans.”

  I slowly slid them to the floor, in as provocative a manner as I could, dragging my socks off at the same time. I’d play along.

  “Panties.”

  I hooked one finger either side of the white lace and very slowly lowered each side. I kept my gaze on him while I lowered them to my knees, then let them fall and stepped out of them.

  He stood and looked at me, his gaze raked over my body. Finally he took a step towards me, taking a sip of the champagne. He held the cold glass against one of my nipples. The shock to my body had me yelp. He held it there and his eyes challenged me to move away. I didn’t. When he removed the glass my nipple was numb, he lowered his head and sucked it into his mouth, full of the champagne he’d taken earlier. The warm liquid thawed my frozen skin. I gasped at the painful tingling as my nipple came back to life.

  He repeated the process with the other one, and I was thankful my overheated skin had warmed the glass slightly.

  “Bedroom,” he said.

  I turned and walked into the room. He motioned with his head for me to climb onto the bed. He placed the glass on the table beside it and pulled his shirt over his head. He fished in his jeans pocket and placed a condom next to the side. I was a little disappointed there was only the one. He lowered his jeans and his cock sprang free, he hadn’t worn shorts. He picked up the glass and sat astride my thighs. Silently he tipped the glass slightly until the cold liquid dripped onto that hollow at the base of my throat. He dribbled the champagne over my chest, down my stomach, and eventually poured the contents over my pussy.

  The cold liquid, as it hit my clitoris, had me gripping the bedsheet. More so when he lowered his head and lapped it up.

  “Holy fuck,” I whispered, as his tongue circled, licked, and his mouth sucked.

  When he was done, he trailed his tongue the length of my body, lapping up the champagne, finally coming to rest on my throat. I pushed my head back, giving him access.

  “No more foreplay, I need to fuck you,” he whispered against my skin.

  I was ready; I was always ready for him.

  He tore the condom packet open and quickly rolled it down his cock. Before I had a chance to react, he’d pushed inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he fucked me hard, holding himself above me on his arms.

  “I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I tilted my pelvis, forcing him deeper. I wrapped my arms around his back and dug my nails into his skin, raking them down his back as my stomach knotted and heat flushed over my body.

  I tried to hold back my orgasm, but it rolled over me, causing me to tense and cry out. He fucked me faster through it. It was only as I was coming down from the high that he gave in to his. It had been short, but oh so sweet.

  Mackenzie didn’t pull out of me immediately. He gently lowered himself to me and I held him. I liked the feel of his body against mine, the stickiness of the champagne, and his sweat. He nestled his face into the crook of my neck and gave a gentle kiss before rising again and pulling out of me. I felt the void he’d left, not only inside my pussy, but also inside the whole of me.

  “An appetiser,” he said with a smirk.

  He walked naked to the bathroom, removing the condom as he did.

  I heard the flow of water as he turned on the shower, and then he called out to me. I smiled as I rose from the bed. He was standing under the jets, his hair already plastered to his forehead. I stepped under, and for a while, he just held me, my back to his chest as water cascaded over us. For that moment, for those few precious seconds, it felt like we had more of a relationship than two people who fucked.

  I will not fall for him, was the thought that ran through my head.

  I’d begun to think I might not have a choice in that.

  ****

  I sat at the dressing table after drying my hair, applying my makeup, and watching him in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt. He gave me a wink when he caught me staring. Once I was finished, I unwrapped the towel I had been wearing, an
d pulled on a black pair of panties, then walked to the wardrobe. He watched me take the dress from the hanger and slip it on. He walked to stand behind me, pushed my hair to one side as he fastened the halter neck. He smiled at me as he planted a gentle kiss on my exposed shoulder.

  Something had changed; there had been a shift within him. The brusqueness was gone and had been replaced with a gentleness.

  “Ready?” he asked. I ran my fingers once more through my hair, loosening the curls and nodded.

  We took the lift down to a ballroom. He was immediately greeted the minute we stepped through the door. He kept his hand on my back and introduced me to everyone that stopped to talk to him. I lost track of names and their relationship to him. Some were colleagues, others were businessmen, and a few were friends of Gabriella’s. A waitress stopped in front of us, and he took two glasses of champagne, handing me one.

  I spotted Gabriella across the hall. She smiled, broke away from her friends, and walked towards us. She greeted me first with a hug, then kissed Mackenzie on the cheek.

  “Happy birthday,” I said.

  “Thank you. I see you already have drinks, I made sure to have some nice whiskey behind the bar for you, Mackenzie,” she said.

  “Good. I’ll indulge after dinner,” he said.

  “You saw the guest list, I take it?” she asked.

  “I did.”

  She smiled and nodded, but her comment left me concerned. Mackenzie didn’t return the smile.

  “You relax, enjoy your evening. I’ll behave,” he said.

  She patted his cheek before leaving. I looked at him.

  “I’m not fond of her brother,” he said, by way of an explanation.

  “Okay. Do you want to mingle? I’ll be fine here.”

  “I didn’t bring you to a party to leave you standing in a corner. Haven’t you done that enough?”

  “I…”

  “You’re here with me. Where I go, so do you,” he said.

  I was grateful for that comment. I didn’t want to stand in a corner of a room full of strangers on my own, but I didn’t want him to think he had to babysit me either.

  We walked towards the bar, stopped and chatted. While he spoke to the men, I spoke to their partners. All were very pleasant, and I loved the Southern accent of many.