Page 3 of Triplets Make Five

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Bookshelves dotted the barren walls, full of empty space and waiting to be filled. As the clock ticked by and the day wore on, the sun set behind me and cast a warm glow throughout the entire office. I was opening every file on my computer I could. Making myself familiar with the company and how it operated. Even though there were many women at that party I wanted to sink my teeth into, I also had a job to do.

And I was going to do it to the best of my ability.

I was doing everything I’d ever wanted. I was now the CEO and President of a Fortune 100 company and was worth over two hundred million dollars. I was fucking around with whoever the hell I wanted, I was going on lavish vacations and leaving my mark on the women of the world, and now I was running a fucking giant of a business.

And all of it accomplished before I turned thirty-five.

But I wouldn’t have gotten to this point if I wasn’t serious about my world. Business was the language I spoke. I breathed it every morning and drank that shit with my coffee. I lured people into my world before showing them I was the boss of it and I escorted women through the rugged terrain before showering them with gifts and fucking them stupid into the many mattresses of my home. This had been my goal. Running a massive conglomerate and taking it to even better heights.

I was reading through hundreds of documents on my first day of work just so I could figure out how the hell to improve this company’s bottom line.

There was always room for growth. A Fortune 100 company had room to become a Fortune 500 company, and that was my plan. To scale this big boy into the international business I knew it could be. I had the intelligence to do it, and when I was chosen for this position I promised the board of investors that our ten-year plan was to do just that.

Play with the big fucking dogs on the international stage.

By the time I was done taking personal notes about shit that already needed to change, it was almost midnight. I needed to get home and get some fucking rest so I could get back into work at a decent hour. There was a meeting with the company’s stakeholders and investors at ten in the morning, and I needed to prepare for that meeting before I closed my eyes tonight.

And if I did that shit here, I’d end up falling asleep at my damn desk.

I gathered my notes, logged my work tablet into my email, and set off for my car. I came out of my office and locked the door, taking in a deep breath of the silent building. Tomorrow, it would be hustling and bustling with people ready to work their asses off for me. And if they weren’t ready, then they would be fired on the fucking spot. I wasn’t joking around with the promise I made to those who interviewed me.

My word was my bond, no matter what it took to make it happen.

I turned and looked down the hallway, watching the dark expanse stretch on. It was an odd setup for a penthouse floor of any building, but there was something that caught my eye. A door at the end of the hallway with a light filtering through its borders. It was a small door. One that was no bigger than a broom closet door.

Was one of the janitors still here?

Walking down the hallway, I passed by some of the other offices. The Vice President of the company, who was a total whack job. I knew I was going to butt heads with him, especially since he had helped Ronald Kiefer build this shit from the ground up. The man was pushing eighty and needed to have been forced into retirement by the board, but I guess people kept him around for nostalgic purposes.

But that nostalgia was going to cost this company greatly if they didn’t move into the twenty-first century with some of their business tactics.

I continued down the hallway and slowly approached the door illuminated by the light. I reached for the doorknob and turned it, expecting to find that someone had just left a light on. Was I going to have to fucking put up signs for the cleaning staff to shut their shit off whenever they were done?

But when I opened the door, I found something I didn’t expect to see.

In the middle of the room, underneath the fluorescent bulb, was a small desk. The room was literally no bigger than a damn broom closet, and at one time had probably been just that. There was a perfectly good office with lots of windows and natural light a few feet away from where I was fucking standing, and yet there was this person slumped over on this rickety desk.

This…woman…was just sleeping at her desk.

The nametag at her desk caught me off guard. ‘Delilah Kent, Investor’s Accountant’. This was the person that would be accompanying me to all of those critical and important meetings. This was the person that dealt solely with the investor’s funds and cutting them checks whenever they profited off our ventures.

And she was fucking snoring at her desk.

I wasn’t sure what to do. The mere fact that this woman who was going to be working alongside me was holed up in a broom closet with no fucking windows was unacceptable. Who the hell put her here in the first fucking place? She was an important part of this entire damn company, and yet she was stuck in here like she was trash. A dirty mop or a forgotten fucking broom.

I couldn’t let her sleep here. I knew if she woke up the next morning, she’d be embarrassed as hell. In her same clothes with no way to clean up. It would be a nightmare for any woman who cared anything about her appearance.

If the woman would know when morning happened. It wasn’t like the room had any fucking windows to speak of.

I reached over as light snores continued to pour from her lips. I planted my hand onto her shoulder and shook her lightly, startling her awake. Her head whipped up from the desk as a piece of paper stuck to her cheek, and I bit back a chuckle as I stood there in the doorway.

But when she peeled the piece of paper away, I was a little taken aback.

And by the look in her eye, so was she.

Her eyes glanced down my body before her cheeks flushed red. She was in this baggy gray cardigan, but the tight pink shirt she had on underneath showed off her prominent tits. She had these rosy apple cheeks and thick-rimmed glasses that sat cockeyed on her face. Her long brown hair had random curls and fly aways that swayed in the stale air around her, and somehow gave an almost angelic countenance to her.

Nowhere near the type of woman I would usually go after, but there was something uniquely beautiful about her.


Tags: Nicole Elliot Romance