Page 57 of The Facilitator: Part 3
“Okay,” I said, chuckling. There was one thing I’d never allow, and that was for another man to touch Lauren, but, as she’d experienced before, I didn’t mind a woman. That turned me on.
I didn’t reply, obviously. What I wanted was for Lauren to not know what or when and have the anticipation build. So, she wanted to see me massaged as well as her? That was doable. I made a phone call.
“Hey, are you ready for home?” I asked. Lauren was sitting behind her desk and her forehead was furrowed. She was pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Yeah. I’ve have a terrible headache this afternoon,” she said.
She closed the folder she was reading and tidied her desk. Lauren’s desk was empty at the end of every day, mine looked like a paper mill had exploded on it.
“Maybe you need to get your eyes checked,” I said, holding open her jacket for her.
“Maybe. Or a good massage,” she said, smiling at me.
“Yeah, a massage might do the trick, especially if you’re not watching your posture,” I said, ignoring her baiting.
She chuckled, I was sure she’d know I had seen the text but she was playing along.
“Perhaps we need to look at the furniture in here,” I added, as I escorted her to the elevator. To change the subject, I then told her about the charity evening we’d been invited to.
“Oh, that sounds nice. When is it?” she asked.
“Can’t remember, it’s on an email, I’ll forward it.” I held open the elevator door so she could walk ahead of me.
“It would be lovely to get all dressed up to go out,” she said.
I held the car door open while she climbed in. I slid in the rear seat beside her and we both opened our phones. I forwarded the message to her and she made an entry in our joint schedule about her next clinic appointment. If we didn’t have the shared diary, we’d forever be changing meetings.
“That’s a worthwhile cause,” she said, mostly to herself as she read the email.
“I thought so, too.”
The event was to raise funds for a children’s charity, one specifically set up to deal with trafficking. I knew it to be a worldwide issue of pandemic proportions and I was eager to be involved in some way.
“There’s an American guy, he lives in Italy, I think. He uncovered one of the largest pedophilia rings in Europe that contained lots of American politicians,” I said, remembering something I’d read in the press. I was struck by the piece because, although a huge property developer in the States, rumor had it that he was also part of the mafia.
“Will he be there?” Lauren asked.
“No idea,” I replied. I’d be interested in meeting the guy.
“Must be awful to have discovered that,” she said.
She went back to her emails and I did the same. When we arrived home, we shut off work, as was our rule, for the evening.
“Who else should we invite?” Lauren asked, as we walked through the front door.
“Alex and Gabriella, maybe. How about Henrietta?” Alex’s mum was a great source of entertainment and they could kill two birds as such. Bring the baby over and attend the event.
“That sounds fun. You know who else would be fun? Veronica. Can you imagine all the faces there that would be hiding?” Lauren said, laughing.
I couldn’t remember how many the table held but it was usually ten for these types of events. I would be expected to ‘buy’ a table and fill it, of course.
“How about Jerry as well?” I asked. Lauren hadn’t seen much of him since he’d finally retired, and it worried me. They didn’t seem as close as they once were.
“Yes, that would be good. I think he has a partner now as well,” she added, her voice rose a little and she sighed.
“Give him a call, arrange a night out with him. You haven’t done that for a long time,” I said.
We were in the kitchen and I’d made her tea. “I might do,” she said and themightconcerned me more.
