Page 4 of Triplets Make Five

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“Preston Walker,” I said.

“Oh, my gosh,” she said breathlessly.

“I take it by your name tag on your desk that you’re Delilah Kent,” I said.

“Um…ye-...yes, sir. Delilah Kent. I’m the accountant for the investors,” she said.

Her voice was light and tantalizing. Like a light breeze on a hot summer’s day. I watched as Delilah quickly got up from her chair and gathered her things, then stuck them in her purse.

“I just…I needed to take these down to…but everything is closed, I think…so I’ll just…”

Her stammering was cute, and it gave me a chance to study her pillowy lips. They were twinged with a pink that matched her cheeks, lending a shimmering glow to her porcelain skin. She gripped her cardigan and wrapped it tightly around her, showcasing the beautiful dip in her waist that my arms would fit perfectly in.

She was going to be a distraction in the investment meetings. That much was for sure.

“So sorry,” she said.

She scooted by me and slithered out the door before I could catch her. I watched her recede down the darkened hallway, her hips swaying with every step she took. Her skirt ruffled against her legs as the fabric swept at the floor, and I had to take deep breaths in order to calm my raging cock.

I had no idea what the fuck drew me to her, but I was determined to figure it out.

Three

Delilah

I couldn’t believe I fell asleep at my desk last night. I was so tired and dazed from going over the company’s logs and researching our new CEO that I laid down and fell asleep. And what I found on our new boss wasn’t good. He was a young man with a mean streak. The last company he was with gutted the entire thing by fifty percent. He cut the staff back, rolled back their wages until they could prove to him that they were worth the pay they were obtaining, and made their entire work environment a place of anxiety. Sure, he catapulted them towards lofty monetary gain, but at what cost? Over one thousand people lost their jobs and the rest saw their paychecks rolled back by as much as fifteen percent. Fifteen percent! Fifteen percent of my annual salary was close to sixteen thousand dollars!

I would have to move and find another place if my paycheck got rolled back sixteen thousand dollars.

By the time the sun rose over the skyline of Philadelphia and pierced through my windows, I was a bundle of nerves. There was a company-wide meeting taking place in order to introduce the new President and CEO of the company. Like his party yesterday wasn’t enough. I hadn’t slept at all because of the fun little nap I took in my office, and I still had no idea who had woken me up. I vaguely remembered the voice of a man, and I knew he had introduced himself. But I had been so embarrassed and in such a haze that I couldn’t remember anything more than that.

I was an absolute mess.

I tried to piece myself together as best as I possibly could. With the research I had done on my new boss, I knew that fitting in would have to be something I did. If I didn’t look the part, act the part, and speak the part, then he was going to get rid of me. Being an oddball was a perk for Bernard Hathaway. He loved the fact that I was odd and kept to myself. It was one less person he had to keep up with and one less person he had to worry about. I was self-sufficient, kept my nose to the ground, and got my work in on time.

Always.

But now, this Preston what’s-his-nuts was going to set an entirely different standard. At his last company, rumor had it that those he fired were mostly those that didn’t fit in with his scheme. Not fitting in with my last boss was considered A-plus material, but if I didn’t fit Preston’s mold, he was going to have me fired.

I took a shower and dried my hair, then twisted it up into a french twist. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t get my flyaways to stay at bay. I had no idea how the secretaries of the main offices kept their hair so perfect, but soon I had to give up the fight. I pulled out my best skirt, pulled on my best blouse, and picked out my best cardigan. I took a look at my contacts and debated on whether or not I should put them in, but decided on my glasses.

I’d rather look a little nerdy girl from accounting than look like someone who was high on the job.

I took a taxi to work just in case I got fired. I would be an emotional wreck and I wouldn’t be able to get myself home. I clutched my bag tightly to my side as I made my way to the massive conference room, taking a seat in the front row all the way at the end. Bernard enjoyed having me there. I could take notes and get a bit of work done while staying out of sight. He didn’t require that I stay out of sight, but that made me feel more comfortable in a massive crowd of people.

And there were about to be a lot.

Fifteen hundred people, to b

e exact.

They all filed in around ten minutes to nine. I was going over some last-minute paperwork and trying to process all the numbers. I knew the investors would want updated portfolios and percentages at their next meeting, and with the changing of heads that meeting would creep up sooner than I wanted it to. I continued to run calculations in my head as I jotted down a few notes, then made some annotations of some things to come back and look at.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming.”

I looked up and saw Rupert Bradshaw standing at the front.

Rupert was the single most lucrative investor Kiefer and Associates had. He held the greatest percentage of outside stock at fifteen percent of the entire company, and he was a long-time friend of Bernard’s. He seemed to be the only other person that was seriously broken up about Bernard retiring, but I couldn’t tell by the look on his face now. He was all smiles as the room came to a hushed sort of reverence, then the introductions began.


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