My Boyfriend's Dad

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My Boyfriend's Dad Page 1

by Amy Brent




  My Boyfriend’s Dad

  Amy Brent

  Contents

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  My Boyfriend’s Dad

  Description

  Part I

  Prologue

  1. Adam

  2. Kylie

  3. Adam

  4. Kylie

  5. Adam

  6. Kylie

  7. Adam

  8. Kylie

  9. Adam

  10. Kylie

  11. Adam

  12. Kylie

  13. Adam

  14. Kylie

  15. Adam

  16. Kylie

  17. Adam

  18. Kylie

  19. Adam

  20. Kylie

  21. Adam

  22. Kylie

  23. Adam

  24. Kylie

  Part II

  25. Ryan

  26. Kylie

  27. Ryan

  28. Kylie

  29. Ryan

  30. Kylie

  31. Ryan

  32. Kylie

  33. Ryan

  34. Kylie

  35. Ryan

  36. Kylie

  37. Ryan

  38. Kylie

  39. Ryan

  40. Kylie

  41. Ryan

  42. Kylie

  43. Ryan

  44. Kylie

  45. Ryan

  46. Kylie

  47. Ryan

  48. Ryan

  Epilogue

  My Best Friend’s Ex (Sneak Peek)

  Description

  Chapter 1

  Copyright © 2018 Amy Brent – All Rights Reserved

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  My Boyfriend’s Dad

  Description

  KYLIE

  My boyfriend introduced us.

  He was handsome, charming, and sweet. We were friends.

  Now everything’s changed.

  When I see him, my heart hurts knowing I can’t have him. When I don’t see him, it hurts even more.

  My boyfriend is supposed to make me feel protected. Make my body ache for his touch.

  But it’s not my boyfriend who makes me feel that way.

  It’s his father.

  RYAN

  I gave her a job to be nice.

  She was the perfect fit for my company. I had no idea she’d be the perfect fit for me.

  Every day we spend together, it gets harder to say goodnight.

  I can’t touch her. She’s twenty-four and I’m forty-nine. And she’s my son’s girlfriend.

  But he’s not treating her right. And I know I would.

  She just asked me what she should do about their relationship.

  What am I going to tell her?

  Part I

  Prologue

  Kylie

  One Month Before Graduation

  “The position I have open is for a personal CPA. Starting salary is sixty thousand and you would have full medical benefits: dental, emergency, eye care, the works. Your office would be on the fifth floor of the building where you could easily access the financial department if you needed them, but you would answer directly to me on all matters revolving around sound financial decisions.”

  “You’re offering me a job,” I said.

  “She won’t need it, Dad,” Adam said. “She’s coming to work with me after she graduates.”

  “Are you?” Ryan asked.

  Dinner had been going so well. My boyfriend—Adam Tucker—and I had been dating since my freshman year of college. I met him in one of my required English courses and fell in love with how much he adored Shakespeare. “An aspiring filmmaker must always seek solace in the greats,” he told me that day.

  It was the line that hooked and sank me before my first day of college had wrapped up.

  But as I sat there next to him one month before graduation, I realized how much the dynamic of our relationship had changed. He spoke for me when he didn’t need to and always made sure I chose him over anything else. If I was going out with my friends, he would ask to come. If I was meeting them for coffee in between classes, he would always randomly show up. The free-thinking, empowering boy I’d fallen in love with at eighteen had become a dominating force in my life.

  And it wasn’t the kind of dominance I enjoyed.

  “I’m not sure,” I said as I shot Adam a look. “We haven't really discussed it.”

  “But it’s practically a done deal. I need her help at my production company, and she’s the best fit for the job,” Adam said.

  “Has she applied for it?” Ryan asked.

  Ryan Tucker was Adam’s father. I met him three months into dating Adam, and from then on, we met him for dinner once a month every month, no matter what. He’d whisk us away to somewhere expensive and demand he pay for the meal. And most times he sent a car to pick us up. One time the car Ryan sent for us took us to his private jet, and he proceeded to take us to Italy to have an authentic Italian dinner.

  Just because he could.

  “We talked about this, Kylie,” Adam said. “You’re going to come help me right after you graduate.”

  “Not right after,” I said. “I do want to take a month off after I graduate and enjoy a little bit of my summer: take a breather, relish my accomplishment. But then we said we would talk about it. So, let’s talk about it.”

  “Are you actually considering my father’s job offer?”

  “Wouldn't you?” I asked.

  Dinner had been going so well until Ryan had thrown that down on the table. Adam had been talking about the production company he was starting with a friend of his and how his first-ever indie film was being submitted to Sundance. He was so proud, and I was proud of him. But I saw the Adam I’d come to know all too well over the past year slowly rear his head.

  In front of his father.

  “The offer is there should you want it,” Ryan said. “Taking a month off after school is fine. You should take the time to enjoy your accomplishment. College is tough, much tougher than when I was going through it.”

  “So you’d be okay with me starting at the end of June?” I asked.

  “Fine. You can start at the end of June with me,” Adam said.

  I shot him another look and kicked his ankle underneath the table. I needed him to stop it. This was my future, my career. It wasn’t his. Yes, he had talked about wanting my help, but the truth of the matter was that Adam was living off loans, taking them out faster than he could pay them back. He refused to work at his father’s computer game development company for extra cash, and he did not want to borrow against his trust fund like his father had offered on several occasions.

  He didn’t have the money to pay me what I needed to pay back my own student loans.

  But Ryan was offering me a job that would give me that capability and so much more.

  “Think about it and get back to me,” Ryan said. “There is no rush. All the applications I’ve received for the position are poor compared to the skills I know you could bring to the job. Your training will be paid, and every new employee in my company starts out with three weeks of paid vacation—with the ability to negotiate more after a positive first-year review of their work.”

  I felt Adam’s eyes boring into the profile of my face.

  “That’s a very generous offer, Mr. Tucker.”

  “It’s the offer I posted for the job, Kylie. Nothing more, nothing less. If you’re interested, let me know. I’ll take up your application and let my HR department know the position has been filled,” Ryan said.

  “And I’m telling you, Dad, that won’t be necessary.”


  “I’ll take the job,” I said.

  Ryan’s eyebrows ticked up as Adam sucked in a breath.

  “Your offer is more than acceptable, Mr. Tucker. I’d be honored to work for such a prestigious company.”

  His eyes flickered over to his son as I sat there, tiptoeing between the shark-like stare of Ryan’s eyes and the shark-like demeanor of Adam’s anger.

  He wouldn't cause a scene in front of his father in this beautiful Portland restaurant, would he?

  “You really aren’t going to come work for me?” Adam asked.

  My eyes panned over to him for the first time since all this began.

  “This is my career, and it’s my choice. We talked about it, but I can’t honestly tell you I was considering it, Adam.”

  “And why the hell not?” he asked.

  “You’re not making any money right now. You’re living off loans faster than you can take them out. That isn’t a way to run a production company, Adam.”

  “And what would you know about that?”

  “A lot since I’m a certified personal accountant.”

  “Running a business is more than just numbers and money, Kylie. It’s about passion, intrigue. It’s about doing what you want to do for the rest of your life and not stopping until you get it.”

  “And being a CPA is what I want to do for the rest of my life. But I also want to make money doing it,” I said.

  “So you’re going to go work for my dad.”

  “At the end of June, yes,” I said. “June twenty-ninth is the perfect start date by the way.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, that’s a Friday. Make it July second. We can start you out on a fresh week leading into a busy summer schedule,” Ryan said.

  “This is ridiculous. You’re my girlfriend, Kylie.”

  “But that doesn't promise you my talents, Adam. I’m not sure what’s gotten into you this past year, but I think you need to take a long hard look at what this production company is turning you into.”

  “One of the perks of having a CPA as a girlfriend while getting a business up and running is your talents, Kylie. What’s wrong with that?”

  “So because we’re dating I’m supposed to give that away to you for free?” I asked.

  “I’ve done plenty for you without you asking.”

  “So you’re holding things I didn’t ask for over my head now?”

  Yep. He was going to cause a scene in this restaurant.

  “This is bullshit,” Adam said as he got up. “When you invited us out to dinner, Dad, I didn’t think you were going to swipe my employee out from underneath me.”

  “In Kylie’s defense, she isn’t your employee,” Ryan said.

  “Yeah, she’s yours now. Congratulations.”

  “Adam, where are you going?” I asked.

  “To take a look at my financials and figure out what my next move is now since my girlfriend is too selfish to do it as a favor for me,” he said.

  I watched him storm off through the middle of the restaurant as people stared in our direction. My cheeks heated with a searing pain I couldn't abate. I was mortified, embarrassed, but mostly pissed off. Did Adam really think he had that much of a right to me simply because we were dating?

  I settled back into my chair as our desserts were placed on the table. I looked up into Ryan’s eyes as I heard the front door slam from all the way at the back of the restaurant, and the only thing I could think to do was apologize.

  “Mr. Tucker, I’m—”

  “Don’t,” he said sternly.

  He settled back into his chair and crossed his leg over his knee.

  “My son is a grown man. He’ll be thirty at the end of this year. If that’s how he chooses to act, then that is on him, not you. Now eat up and then I’ll take you home.”

  That was the kind of dominance I enjoyed. Not the overbearing, controlling dominance Adam seemed to exude over the last year, but the kind of dominance that took into account my well-being. I watched as Ryan picked up his fork and dipped it into the dollop of cream atop his dessert. His dark brown hair was parted to the side and not a single strand was out of place. His blue eyes, which usually sparkled, dimmed with a seething glow I could only attribute to his son’s embarrassing outburst. His long wingspan stretched out as he cut bites of his dessert with ease, his back never leaving the seat.

  In another world, I would’ve considered Ryan Tucker to be an attractive man for fifty years old.

  But in my world, the only thing I considered Ryan Tucker to be was my new boss.

  Adam

  AdamTwo Months Later

  “To impending babies and late nights spent with puke on your shirt,” I said.

  “And to a successful film at Sundance that doesn’t suck,” Sawyer said.

  I clinked my glass with my best friend before we threw our shots back. Sawyer had been my best friend since high school, and his wife of two years was due to give birth any second. Sawyer was the epitome of what people expected of me: a nine-to-five job, married to the love of his life, a kid on the way. It was that boxed-up, boring little American brand people put their stamp of approval on before moving on to the next sucker.

  But not me.

  I wasn’t a sucker for the traditional American dream.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to have a little girl in the house soon,” Sawyer said. “I’ve seen so many adorable dresses I can’t wait to buy her.”

  “Better you than me,” I said.

  I held up my hand to signal for the waitress, and she came over promptly. I handed her the empty shot glasses and ordered Sawyer and myself a couple more beers with another shot.

  “Are you trying to kill me tonight?” he asked.

  “My job is to send you home with one last hurrah,” I said, “because your life as you know it is about to be over.”

  “You said that when I got married.”

  “And I’m saying it again. You changed when you got married and you’ll change once this kid comes along. And it doesn’t stop there. You'll hate your life and then that one-year mark will hit and suddenly you’re pumping out another one. I don’t get the appeal, but welcome to the rest of your life,” I said.

  “Speaking of families,” he said as he grabbed his beer. “When are you going to propose to Kylie? The two of you have been together for going on four years now. It’s time.”

  “It’s time? I’m so tired of people telling me that. It’s time to grow up, Adam. It’s time to abandon that dream, Adam. It’s time to move on, Adam. What is this infatuation people have with this illusion we call time? What timetable are we supposed to be living our lives on?” I asked.

  I threw back the shot before chasing it with my beer.

  “So you haven't even thought about it is what you’re saying,” he said.

  “Nope. Not for one moment.”

  “And have you discussed this with Kylie yet? She’ll be looking for a ring soon.”

  “She knows I don’t want to get married,” I said.

  “Are you assuming she does? Or have the two of you had an explicit conversation about it?”

  “There’s been nothing explicit about Kylie and me for a while now.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Yep. And that’s fine, because I’m not ready for any sort of long-term commitment. So if that’s the game she wants to play, that’s fine.”

  “I’m pretty sure four years is a long-term commitment, Adam.”

  “Look, I’m not ready for marriage, and I’m honestly not sure I ever will be,” I said. “The fuck’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing if Kylie knows that. But if she’s looking for something different than you, then you owe it to her to have a conversation. You know, communicate, like regular couples do.”

  “At least you’re not on the ‘move in with her’ train any longer,” I said.

  “Now that you mention it…”

  “Oh come on, Sawyer. Moving in is practically like getting married. First you share a
space, then a bed. You share food and then you share cell phone plans. Pretty soon you’re buying a dog together and opening a credit card together, and then everything goes to shit and you’re drawing out an informal custody agreement for a fucking teacup poodle.”

  “But you haven’t been thinking about it,” he said with a grin.

  “Even if I wanted to move in with Kylie, neither of us can. We’re both in leases we can’t get out of. Kylie just re-signed hers and I re-signed mine two months ago. What do you expect us to do?”

  “I don’t expect anything of you two except communication,” he said. “You’ve got all of this stuff rattling around in your head, but something tells me she knows nothing about it.”

  “Don’t worry, she blindsides me with plenty.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” I said as I tipped the rest of my beer back.

  I didn’t want to think about her first day of work with my father coming up soon.

  “Then I’ll end our little powwow with this: Be careful. All this pent-up frustration and this wishy-washiness with your future could really end up pushing Kylie away. And if you ever do want to get serious with her, you might push her so far that she decides to move on before you do.”

 

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