The New Single Dad Billionaire by Tina Gabor EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Tina Gabor
- Language: English
- Genre: Billionaire Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
TYLER
Driving from Santa Monica to Hollywood on a Friday night didn’t
help my already cranky mood. I wanted to go home and be with my
kids, but our user experience ratings had plummeted in the last quarter–
especially in relation to our “mingles.”
The lifeblood of eMingle, the app that had made me rich, rested in our
live events for singles. I needed to find out what the hell was going on.
The SUV in front of me swerved, almost side-swiping a parked Tesla,
and then it slowed to ten miles below the speed limit.
I fought the urge to blare my horn and give them the finger. Nope,
gonna be cool. I changed lanes, peering into the driver’s seat as I passed to
see the precise flavor of moron I’d been driving behind.
But I didn’t find a moron.
Instead, I spotted a harried woman screaming into the rear-view mirror
at her tantrum-ing toddler in the back seat while another older kid cried in
the passenger seat. A fellow parent. Got it.
My raged quelled. I felt like an asshole. Thank God, I hadn’t let my
temper show. I used to be such a laid-back guy, but ever since my company
expanded so fast, I seemed eternally stressed.
And, although I’d never admit it to anyone, suddenly becoming a father
of two had added a layer of stress.
My therapist told me it was a lot to handle at once, but I hated admitting
anything negative concerning my children. My mother always blamed me
for “destroying her youth,” and I vowed my kids would never feel like a
burden. They’d gotten enough rejection from their mom abandoning them.
I’d already missed the start of their lives because I didn’t know they
existed. Thinking about missing out, I remembered I was going to miss
bedtime tonight. My heart ached. I hated missing bedtime.
“Siri, call Milda,” I said. I needed to hear their voices and say
goodnight.
“Hello, Mr. Tyler,” Milda, my new nanny, answered. My uncle, William
Bronson, was the only one in our family called Mr. Bronson. The rest of us
were called by our first names.
I didn’t require the “mister,” but Milda seemed to prefer it even though
I’d been telling her it wasn’t necessary for the two weeks she’d been with us.
“I’m getting ready to head into my work function, and I just wanted to
say hello to the kids.”
“What time do you expect to be home?” she asked.
I took a breath to calm myself. We’d discussed it twice before.
“Midnight. But I’ll try to make it sooner.”
“Very good, Mr. Tyler,” she said, and then I heard her call the children.
“Hey Dad!” Riley, my daughter, said as she picked up the telephone.
My heart danced. It’d taken a while since her foster placement for her to
call me “dad.” But in the last couple of months, after she realized I’d started
the paperwork for her adoption, she’d started saying it regularly.
“Hey Riley-roo, what are you up to?”
“Miss Milda won’t let us have waffles.”
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