Mackenzie Grierson - Sex Stories

Mackenzie Grierson

Mackenzie Alexandra Lovato (Grierson)

I think of the day my mom, Amy McAdams, revealed that Jack Grierson was my real, biological father, as the first day of my adult life. I spent the next several days thinking and looking up information on the internet. So many things that had never made sense before began to make sense. Even though Mom was five foot ten, I was a full inch taller, nearly six feet tall. Mom’s husband, Kenny, was only five foot eight and I’d always wondered where I got my height from. Jack was six foot four. Mom was super athletic and had been a varsity swimmer in college; I was on volleyball and basketball teams, and also rowed crew in high school; I had a college scholarship to row in the women’s eight at a prestigious Ivy League university, coincidentally, the same one that Jack had attended for two years. Kenny couldn’t even throw a baseball straight, whereas Jack was a superb athlete, super fit. It made so much sense that Jack was my dad – and the more I thought about it, the more I was relieved that Kenny was not.

A week after Mom told me, I went to see Farah Hojjat, Jack’s long-time executive assistant. She had set herself up as a consultant with an office in a tower in midtown. When I went in to see her, she sat behind a desk with a picture window on one side. There was a crib in a corner with her baby son Darius and her four-year-old daughter Noor was sitting on the sofa coloring a book.

She rose from behind her desk and gave me a ...

... hug.

“Mackenzie! How lovely to see you. What brings you into the city?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” I said. “About my father. About Jack.”

“Oh.” Her expression grew serious. “Sit down, darling. This will be thirsty work, so let’s have some tea. Or would you prefer coffee?”

“Coffee, if it’s not too much trouble,” I said.

Farah buzzed her intercom, and her admin assistant came in. She was a young Hispanic woman.

“Tea for me, Rita,” she said. “And a coffee for my guest. How do you take it, Mackenzie?”

“A latte would be great,” I said. “But just black would be fine, too.”

“Tea and a latte,” said Rita, turning and leaving.

“Did you ask your mother about Jack?” asked Farah, after the door closed.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She knew him for a long time. But you’re the one that did all the research on him. You know more about him than anyone.”

“You’re a clever girl, Mackenzie.”

“Call me Mack. All my friends call me that.”

“What’s your full name?”

“Why?”

“You’re Jack’s daughter, so you’re special to me.”

“My birth certificate says ‘Mackenzie Alexandra Lovato’. That’s Kenny’s last name, he’s Mom’s husband. I really can’t think of him as ‘dad’ anymore.” I paused and my brows knit. “But that’s not who I am.”

“No, you’re Mack Grierson.”

“Yes.”

Rita returned with the cups, gave them to us, and retired. Farah sipped her tea. My latte was very hot, and I blew on it before doing the same.

“It will be a long morning.”

“I don’t have anything else ...