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From Boss to Boyfriend, Chapter Ten
🕑 Added 2022-02-01 04:34:08 +0000 UTC“It’s great to finally meet you, Mike,” dad bellowed over the din of the restaurant as they vigorously shook hands in the foyer. It was a night out, a night to dress up, and Mike looked stunningly handsome in the charcoal suit I’d chosen for him that afternoon. Peeking out from under his cuff was my recent birthday gift for him, a heavy white gold watch shining amidst the black hair on his thick wrist.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, sir,” Mike replied, a genuine Midwestern smile plastered across his broad face. It was hard to match the tailoring and subtle quality of one of my father’s suits, but he held his own. In contrast, suits never fit me well so I abdicated the competition and opted for a lustrous loose black shirt flowing over snug burgundy slacks tucked under the collar of my high black boots.
He hadn’t outright asked to meet my father, but I had felt hints of his eagerness for weeks. Part of me knew he saw it as the next step in whatever our relationship was becoming, but still I wondered if he might also spy a professional opportunity in this connection. My upbringing had dosed me with more than my fair share of paranoia.
“That’s ‘David’ to you,” dad said, pressing closer to pat Mike on the back. With a grin toward me, dad waggled his eyebrows as he added, “But maybe someday you’ll be able to call me ‘dad’. Eh, Avery? You know, my boy’s never introduced me to one of you before. You must be something real special.”
Mike smirked, cheeks reddening just a shade beneath his stubble. I huffed dramatically, and stepped in between the two men. “It’s dinner, not a wedding announcement.” The burly man laughed as he engulfed me in a hug that lifted my feet from the floor.
“It’s a father’s right to embarrass his son.”
“But not to embarrass his boyfriend,” I retorted, nodding toward Mike’s as I extracted myself from the overwhelming embrace.
Mike shook off his surprise and grinned back at dad. “It’s fine, Ave. I can handle a bit of hard ball.”
“Ave?” Dad chuckled. “How adorable."
It was my turn to feel my cheeks burn, but I was accustomed enough to my father’s antics to simply evade and change the subject. “And where’s Nicole?” I asked.
“Off at the ladies’ room. Come on, let’s have a seat. Timothy saved my table for us.”
The restaurant, odyssey, was one of dad’s favorites in the city, an exquisite space with modern decor and a fusion of cuisines that never failed to surprise. Dad enjoyed the spectacle of it, more than the food, and a hint of ownership.
“You know Timothy Bremer?” Mike asked, more curious than surprised.
“Oh yes. In fact, a few years ago he spent a summer cooking for us in the Hamptons, before he secured the funding to open this joint. A fine man. In fact, I always suspected Avery fancied him.”
“Did he?” Mike chortled and wrapped an arm over my shoulder as we followed behind dad toward his private table in the back, drawing looks of recognition and whispers of intrigue from the connected crowd dining along our path.
I scrunched up my nose and lied, “I did not.”
Dad glanced back over his shoulder. “Well, if you say so. You did develop quite a sudden interest in the kitchen though.” He nodded toward Mike. “Boy could hardly boil water on his own, but after that summer he was a fine enough cook to work in any restaurant.”
Whispering in my ear, Mike teased, “You never told me about that summer. Such a naughty boy, sucking the cook’s cock?”
“He wasn’t just a cook; he was a budding restaurateur,” I whispered back, in my own defense.
“So you did like him,” Mike smirked as we approached the table and he took a seat beside my father. They weren’t wrong. I had learned a lot that summer, even if it was just the pretense I needed to coax the married man into a bit of experimentation while he was away from his wife for the summer. Though I had to admit to myself at least that I’d gotten in a bit over my head by the end.
A gentle hand grazed over my shoulder as I hovered behind my chair and surveyed the restaurant—certainly not looking for Tim.
“Avery,” a rapturous feminine voice spoke behind me as I turned with a smile to embrace one of the most stunningly beautiful women in the world.
“You’re looking lovely, Nicole.” She always did. Her silken blue dress fit snugly on a slim frame, contrasting with her brown skin and complementing her stark blue eyes. No one could blame my father for succumbing to her charms, particularly since her own family fortune left her with little need to dig for any man’s gold.
She smiled at me as we parted, a practiced expression but not a performance. “I’m so glad you could join us, and this must be Mike?” She stretched out her hand as she turned to him. I had to suppress a chuckle at his starstruck face, scrambling to his feet to greet a woman he’d surely seen on no shortage of magazine covers.
It was more than that though. I felt a twinge of jealousy at the obvious lust he felt toward this goddess, at how easily she could evoke such a reaction in a man, nearly any man. His voice was hasty, overeager, but she was gracious with her smile as his hand engulfed hers. He said, “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I had no idea Mike’s Nicole was Nicole Emer—“
Her smile never broke, but she interrupted firmly, “I’m just Nicole to my friends.”
“Oh,” he was stunned, but recovered quickly. “Right, of course. It’s nice to meet you, Nicole.”
There was something in her face, something unusual, and it took a moment before I could read it. Attraction. Their fingers lingered as their hands parted. There was a tension between them, an energy that should have made me worry, but instead it just made me wonder. How far would he go with her given the chance?
My father rose to pat Mike on the back, gently chiding him, “Careful, Mike. Don’t let Avery catch you making eyes at my wife.”
Mike blushed deeply, lust plain on his face, and grinned apologetically at me. Coming to his rescue, I interjected, “Don’t let dad razz you. He knows how men get around Nicole,” and lowered my tone, “and I’ll tell you I think he likes it.”
“Preposterous,” Dad huffed with arms crossed in a dramatic display, “I’m quite deeply offended.” He hooked his arm around Nicole’s waist as she sat beside him, kissing her with a playful smirk on his lips.
Soon as we had taken our seats, it was my turn to blush when Timothy appeared beside the table with a sommelier in tow with a bottle of red. The chef had aged as well as wine in the years since our tryst, clad in a stunning emerald suit with his thinning red-blonde hair meticulously styled. For a moment I lost myself in his verdant eyes when they met mine.
“Welcome David and Nicole, and what a pleasure to see you again Avery,” he said with posh affectation that belied his humble background. “And welcome to you, sir,” his gaze scanned over Mike appraisingly, “it’s your first time, is it not?”
Mike looked like a deer in headlights, but dad answered swiftly, “This is Avery’s new beau, Mike. Not a bad table for a virgin, is it?”
“Well then, I’ll have to make sure it’s a real treat,” Tim smiled and laughed softly as the sommelier popped the bottle and poured a taste for my father. I smirked to myself, remembering how the restaurateur had loathed my father’s capricious moods over that fateful summer. He was a professional, and no one ever would have known his true feelings from his face.
“Good to meet you, this is an incredible place,” Mike said, squeezing Tim’s offered hand in an awkward greeting as each man sized up the other.
My father tasted the wine, and I filled the silence, “Thank you, Tim, and excuse my father. He’s determined to torment me tonight.” I looked around the crowded restaurant, avoiding Tim’s gaze, as I said, “You’ve done a wonderful job with the place. The renovations really brought the space alive.”
Timothy nodded politely and said warmly, “Yes, I was so glad I got enough investment to make it all come together, though Jennifer has been the real blessing with her designs and contacts.” The mention of his wife—an interior designer by trade—felt like a shock of ice in my veins, sharply dismissing the past between him and I. “I’m afraid she’s home with the kids tonight so she won’t be able to say hello.”
Obliviously, my father nodded his approval at the wine as he said, “A shame. I still don’t know how you both manage the family without help. Give her our best.”
“It’s a challenge, but we manage,” Tim nodded as the sommelier filled our glasses. “We’re actually expecting our fourth in a few months.”
Nicole cooed, “Oh congratulations, that’s lovely.” The table echoed her sentiment until I felt the awkwardness of my silence.
“Congratulations,” I said with a forced smile.
“Yes, thank you,” Tim replied, one eyebrow distinctively arched the way it always had when he was amused. “Now just sit back and relax. The staff will take wonderful care of you this evening.”
Dad scoffed, “And here I thought you were going to be our waiter.”
“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” the restaurateur retorted, brow flattening with a hint of irritation, “but do let me know if anything is amiss. And it was a pleasure to meet you, Mike.” He floated off in a hurry, gone as quickly as he’d appeared.
A sip of wine loosened the knot in my back and I took a deep breath. Mike leaned over and whispered, “You alright?”
“Oh, yeah, I just haven’t seen him in a long time.”
“I had wondered why you never wanted to come here,” Mike admitted. “I get it though. A history like that can make things hard.” He ran his hand down my back, affectionately squeezing at the small of it. “Just relax and enjoy yourself. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I know,” I said, “but I do try to occasionally think of people other than myself.”
Mike laughed and leaned in to press his lips to my cheek as he whispered, “All I think about is you, and if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
I felt a rush, lightheaded but it wasn’t the wine, and I expelled a too-loud laugh. “I’ll never get used to the sincerity.”
“Maybe,” Mike smirked and leaned back into his chair, “but that won’t stop me. I just tell it like it is, Ave.”
Dad and Nicole had given us our moment, speaking between themselves, but when we all rejoined with a clink of our glasses, the conversation flowed as freely as the wine. In due time, several small courses of experimental cuisine—deconstructed salads, vaporized soup, and the like—appeared before us. Tim and I had spoken at length about the importance of experiential food to capture the interest of…well, people like me. It appeared he had taken my insights to heart, and the success spoke for itself.
Occasionally, I caught Mike and Nicole transfixed on each other, but the conversation was comfortable. More stunning was the ease with which Mike and dad got along, instantly as if they’d long been friends. Watching them chatter back and forth, it began to make a sort of sense. They were so similar, in temperament and interests, but even in their appearance. In truth, an onlooker couldn’t have been blamed for thinking Mike was dad’s son rather than myself, and I felt a strange bit of jealousy.
Dad and I got along quite well, but it had been a long road to walk and there was no denying that I hadn’t fit into his initial expectations for his only son and heir-apparent since my sisters had little interest in any aspect of the business. It stung that Mike was the exemplar of what dad had wished I could be, but still it was nice to see them get along so well as Nicole and I spoke in tandem with them.
After a second glass of wine, I excused myself. I was making my way to the restroom when I nearly ran face-first into someone as I rounded the corner. “Oh excuse me,” I muttered, looking up with dawning horror when I saw Tim’s emerald eyes looking back at me.
“Just a few glasses of wine and you’re already throwing yourself at me,” he said quietly with a grin. “Some things never change.”
For once, I was speechless. I felt my hands curling into fists as my face went red.
He stood close, his breath hot in my ear as he whispered, “And your new beau is making heart eyes at David’s wife. You certainly have a thing for straight men. Don’t you, Ave? Is his wife waiting at home?”
I gritted my teeth as a tear ran down my cheek, agitated as much by the allure of the familiar heat and smell off Tim’s body as by the words from his mouth. He was one of my firsts, and I couldn’t simply forget how I’d once felt about him.
“Fuck you,” I hissed, stepping back to flee from his allure.
“Not your finest barb,” he snickered, “but frankly the knowledge that a quarter of every dollar I make still goes back to you is already more insult than I can handle.”
My eyes narrowed as I fixed my furious gaze on him and stiffened. “I suppose I thought you might be glad to not spend every summer baking for billionaires when I offered the investment.”
“As if you did me a fucking favor,” Tim muttered with a roll of his eyes. “You bent me over the barrel after making me into a cheater. Who knew such a little whore had it in him?”
“It wasn’t a favor. I believed in your dream. I believed in you.” I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t let him see how it hurt to hear him say those words. “If you want to hate me, I can’t stop you, but I did actually give a shit about you. You can have my shares if that’s what you want.”
Tim’s composure finally broke, lips curling into a snarl just as Mike came around the corner and stopped short in surprise. He clasped a hand on my shoulder and asked, “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I whimpered, pushing past Tim toward the bathroom with Mike close behind. He followed me into the individual men’s room, shutting the door behind him.
“Seriously, what happened?” Mike asked softly.
“It’s complicated,” I sighed. “I didn’t realize how angry he’d be.”
“Why? Why would he be angry with you?”
“Because I gave him the money so he could do this,” I said, but that wasn’t quite right. I paused for a moment before admitting. “Because he wanted to leave his wife for me, and I couldn’t let him.”
