Triplets Make Five: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Baby Romance

by Nicole Elliot

  Then, it came to the woman in the back.

  She had introduced herself a little bit a couple of nights ago, but I wanted a formal introduction. Plus, I needed a refresher on what her name really was. I wanted her to look me in the eyes, give me her name, and state what her job was. I wanted her to know that I knew she was there. That she was an important part of this meeting because she would be how I kept my head screwed on straight.

  You know, if she did her fucking job right.

  She had her head down and was scribbling something in a notebook. My eyes locked on her as everyone swiveled around in their chair. Padma cleared her throat to try and get the woman’s attention. I watched the girl whip her head up and look around the room, then she did something that didn’t surprise me.

  Though it should have.

  She scooted herself closer into the shadows.

  “Introduce yourself,” Padma said.

  “Oh. Well, I’m Delilah Kent.”

  “And what do you do, Delilah Kent?” I asked.

  Her eyes found mine and I finally got the color of them. They were a deep green. A deep green that matched the cardigan draped around her shoulders.

  “I’m, um…the investor’s accountant. But I also attend these meetings and take minutes so I can send them to you,” she said.

  “Interesting,” I said.

  There was a certain disdain in her voice. It was faint, but it was there. Her nose was slightly scrunched up and she was ready to be done with me. Or maybe she was just done talking. She didn’t strike me as the kind of person that would get up on a stage and give some grand speech, so maybe she was just embarrassed that she was drawn from her shadows.

  Either way, the tone of her voice wasn’t friendly.

  Was she pissed that I woke her up? She would’ve been embarrassed had she slept at the office that night. Walking around in the same clothes? Women hated that kind of thing. Most women wouldn’t be caught dead in the same outfit twice, much less out in public without a shower. But maybe that type of thing didn’t phase her. Maybe underneath those cardigans and those thick-rimmed glasses was a minx who took pride in the walk of shame. Wearing an outfit two days in a row after a very fulfilling one-night stand. There were women like that, and they were usually the women people least expected to be like that.

  And if there was any woman I would never expect that type of behavior from, it was Delilah Kent.

  “Has everyone introduced themselves?” I asked.

  “I believe so,” Delilah said flatly.

  She fluttered her eyes up at me, and if looks could’ve killed I would’ve fallen back out of the window and plummeted to my death.

  An entire hour passed, filled with talks of their terrible commercials, other color palettes to try out for billboard advertisements, and fonts to use for the new company sign. My eyes flickered over towards Delilah in the corner at times, and she seemed serious. Focused. Head deep in the notes she was taking. There were times where she would look up and catch my eye, but the disdain she had for me would soon fill her emerald eyes.

  What the hell had crawled up this woman’s ass? If I was going to be working closely with her, we needed a different kind of relationship.

  “Okay. We’ve talked about fonts, color palettes, those awful commercials, and reworking the billboards around town. Anything else?” I asked.

  “I was hoping we could discuss the budget,” Padma said.

  “That’s fine, but for now I’m running budget approvals through the board of investors. I take it you are seeking an increase?”

  “No, I’m waiting for the increase that’s been approved to hit,” Padma said.

  “That increase hasn’t hit?”

  Delilah’s voice piped up from the back as her eyes focused on Padma.

  “No, ma’am. It was approved over a month ago and we still haven’t seen it,” Padma said.

  “That doesn’t seem right. How much was the increase?” Delilah asked.

  I watched her pull out a stack of folders from her bag as she sat them on her lap.

  “It was a ten thousand dollar increase,” Padma said. “It was supposed to go to updating some of our graphics, like Mr. Walker is asking for.”

  Delilah’s eyes scanned the documents at an alarming rate, flipping over pages at lightning speed. Was she taking in all those numbers that quickly? Could she read that fast?

  “Okay, no. It hasn’t been calculated into the budget yet because that ten thousand dollars was approved for the following quarter. The quarter doesn’t turn over until the middle of next month. You should see it then, but I’ll make a note to double-check the system just to make sure everything’s set up for it,” Delilah said.

  “Damn. I thought it was going to drop sooner than that. All right. Thanks…what did you say your name was?” Padma asked.

  “Delilah,” I said.

  Her eyes rose to meet mine as the slightest bit of anger fell away from her gaze.

  “Her name is Delilah Kent, and I suggest you learn it if she’s going to be your ten thousand dollar champion,” I said.

  “Yes sir,” Padma said.

  “Is there anything else?” I asked.

  Everyone around the table shook their heads as I sighed internally with relief. If all the team meetings were going to be this brutal, then this company was further behind than I originally thought.

  “All right. Meeting adjourned. Padma, I expect those mockups of the new company sign to be either on my desk or in my email by the end of this week,” I said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I stood up as my eyes panned over to the corner, but Delilah was nowhere to be found. Had she already left the fucking meeting? I looked over towards the door and saw her billowing down the hallway, her cardigan flying behind her as her skirt wafted around her legs. I wanted a chance to introduce myself personally to the woman I was apparently going to be working alongside, but she was gone before I could get out into the hallway.

  What the fuck was her problem? And why the hell was I so anxious to talk with her alone?

  This woman was already driving me crazy. I just didn’t understand why.

  “Bernard used her as his personal secretary,” someone said.

  I looked down and saw the woman who introduced herself as Deena Courey.

  “Your Padma’s secretary?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir. Part time. Bernard Hathaway used Delilah Kent as his personal secretary. She went with him to all of the meetings he attended and took notes for him. A lot of people thought they had something going on for awhile.”

  “Oh, really? Was there any truth to that rumor?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Deena said. “Delilah’s…odd. Keeps to herself. Stays in her office when she can. Bernard tried to get her to take an office right next to the Vice President, but she refused. Said she wanted the office she has now.”

  “That small thing? It doesn’t even have a window,” I said.

  “She likes it that way, I guess. I’m telling you, she’s weird.”

  “What else does she do? Do you know?” I asked.

  “All I know is she handles the investor’s money, pays them when it’s necessary, and followed Bernard around to meetings when he needed her. Bernard kept her close. I don’t know why, though.”

  “Any reason why she might hate me?” I asked.

  “Besides the fact that you’re replacing one of the only people that looked past how odd she is? No clue. She keeps herself cooped up, is weird with crowds. Never attends any of the company functions despite the fact that Bernard always personally invited her.”

  “Sounds like they were close,” I said.

  “Then you see why the rumors spiraled,” she said.

  “Well, thank you for your input. Is there anything else?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said as she handed me a piece of paper.

  I unfolded it and saw her name along with her nine-digit phone number.

  “I’m free every evenin
g and on the weekends,” she said. “I don’t like to dilly dally at work, though. Gotta keep it professional.”

  Then, the woman named Deena Courey sauntered off, swaying her hips broadly as I licked my lips.

  I was really going to enjoy it here.

  Five

  Delilah

  I wrapped my fingers around my Manhattan as the bar covered me with its sounds. That man intentionally put me on the spot in that meeting today. At least, it felt like it. And I’d made an ass out of myself, so it was only a matter of time before I lost my job. He didn’t try to seek me out the rest of the day, which meant he didn’t alert me to any other meetings that should’ve taken place. He should’ve been meeting with all the teams, not just the graphics department. Was he asking someone else to do it? Was this how he was preparing to fire me?

  I was in so much trouble.

  I hated this. I hated all of it. I wanted Bernie back. I wanted Mr. Hathaway to pop out of a corner, tell us we were all being videotaped, then go back to his regular place. I knew I needed to be happy for him, but I also knew he was the only reason I still had my job. All of the investors thought I was weird, no one at the company wanted to include me in anything. I was aware of the rumors that circulated about me. How people thought I was sleeping with Bernie to keep my job. That was one of the reasons why I never went to the company’s formal functions or parties. The last thing I wanted was for Bernie to be talking with me and people get the wrong idea.

  I respected him more than that. He deserved better than that.

  I polished off my first drink of the night as I turned my gaze out the window. Cars were passing by and horns were honking as often as the stars were twinkling in the sky. Well, the stars I could see from my tiny corner booth. This bar was my only place of solace besides my apartment. Here, no one bothered me. Here, I had a specific order that no one questioned. Here, I was paid attention to but left alone. Like a king on his throne awaiting his next big decisions to muddle through.

  I wanted to enjoy my drinks tonight. I wanted to wash away the entire week. I wanted to forget about Bernie’s retirement announcement and this dumbass retirement party. I wanted to forget about the company-wide meeting where I’d made a fool out of myself. I wanted to forget that it was my new boss that woke me up in my office with a piece of soaking wet paper stuck to my chin, and I sure as hell wanted to forget that graphics department meeting.

  There had been something in his eyes when I introduced myself that I didn’t like.

  “Another Manhattan,” the waitress said.

  “But I didn’t order another one,” I said.

  “The man over in the corner ordered it for you. Said to tell you it was from your new boss.”

  I froze in my spot as I slowly panned my gaze across the bar.

  He was sitting there in a booth with a smug look on his face. That cheeky little grin and those sparkling playboy eyes. He raised his glass to me before he beckoned to his booth, silently asking me if I wanted to come over and sit with him.

  No. No I didn’t want to sit with him. But did I really have a choice? This could be my only shot to kiss his behind and keep my job. And heaven knew I couldn’t afford to lose my job.

  “Thanks,” I said with a groan. “Could you transfer my check over to his table?”

  “You want him to pay it?” the waitress asked.

  “I wish. Just wanted to let you know I was moving,” I said.

  I grabbed my purse and slid out of my regular booth. Preston’s grin turned into a broad smile as I approached him. What in the world was he so happy about? Was this man going go pop up everywhere I went? I gave him a forced smile as I sat down across the table from him, my Manhattan sloshing around in the palm of my hand.

  “That your regular drink?” Preston asked.

  “It’s what I gravitate towards, yes,” I said.

  “It’s a good drink. A strong one.”

  “It’s what my father used to drink when I was younger,” I said.

  “My drink of choice is a simple martini.”

  “Interesting, since you don’t strike me as simple,” I said.

  His eyes whipped up to mine and his smile faded into a smirk. I watched his gaze dance around my face before his eyes took in my breasts. He wasn’t even trying to cover up the fact that he was looking at my tits, and I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t going to play this little game of his. There were plenty of women in the company who would willingly spread their legs for him. I wasn’t going to be one of them, and no amount of coercion would change my mind.

  I would gladly lose my job if it meant putting his playboy ass in its place.

  “So. How long have you been at Kiefer and Associates?” Preston asked.

  “Nine years,” I said.

  “But you’re only twenty-eight,” he said.

  “If you’ve read my file, then why are you asking me asinine questions you already know the answers to?” I asked.

  “Because I’m trying to get a read on you.”

  “That what you call staring at my tits?” I asked.

  He grinned at me as he took a sip of his drink. I had no idea what in the world had come over me. I was never this bold. This brash. I had been the object of ridicule and put underneath a microscope for years at this job, and never in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought of talking to someone like this.

  But it felt good.

  It felt good to speak my mind. To let someone know exactly what I thought of them. I was tired of dealing with people’s crap. It was one of the reasons why I preferred the office I did. No windows so the world couldn’t see me, and no room for anyone to come in and sit down. If they needed me, I either had to go to them or they had to call me. It minimized the crap I had to deal with and it minimized the drama I had to be a part of with this company.

  “No. I call that admiring the beauty that’s in front of me,” Preston said.

  Beauty? Did this man just call me beautiful? I felt a warmth trickle up the back of my neck as I took a sip of my drink. Holy hell, this incredibly sexy man just told me he thought I was pretty. He was an asshole, so I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of melting at his feet like most women did.

  But no man had ever called me a beauty before.

  “I take it you’ve heard the rumors about Bernie and I,” I said.

  “Since you brought it up, yes. Are they true?”

  “Not one bit.”

  “It is odd that you keep yourself secluded in that little office room. Especially since you were offered a very decent space to bide your time at the company,” Preston said.

  “Reduces the bullshit I come into contact with at the company.”

  I watched his eyes spark with fire and intrigue as his cheek ticked with a smirk.

  “Bullshit, huh? You’re a feisty one.”

  “Not known to be, but I guess you bring out the worst in me.”

  “Or the best,” he said. “Which begs another question. Why did you brush me off today?”

  “I wasn’t aware that I had,” I said.

  “You left very quickly out of that meeting with the graphics department.”

  “Because I had work to accomplish. Or so I thought. You never informed me of any other meetings for me to attend.”

  “Because I didn’t have any other meetings,” he said.

  “Nice to know you’re taking your job seriously.”

  “Have I done something to make you think I’m not?” he asked.

  “Besides the fact that you gutted and destroyed your last company? Only the fact that I’m pretty sure you stalked me to this bar.”

  “Stalked you? You give yourself too much credit,” he said.

  “Said the man who called me a beauty.”

  “I like your style,” he said.

  “And I hate yours.”

  “Because I gutted my last company.”

  “Because you fired over half your staff and I feel you gearing up to do it again,” I said.


  “And you think I’m going to fire you, is that it? Why you keep avoiding me and why you’re so upset with me right now?” he asked.

  “I’m not upset.”

  “I’ve been with plenty women. You’re the definition of upset.”

  I turned my eyes away from him and drew in a deep breath. I enjoyed this banter and this side of me a little too much. It wasn’t comfortable, and I loved it. It was risky, and my heart was pounding with the thrill of adventure. What in the world was happening to me? I needed to finish this drink and get out of here.

  “I wouldn’t chug your drink so quickly,” Preston said. “You might have to sit here and wait it out.”

  “I took an Uber here. I’ll get one back,” I said.

  “Where’s your car?” he asked.

  “At my apartment.”

  “So you live in an apartment? Where in Philly do you live?” he asked.

  “I’m not telling you where I live,” I said, snickering.

  “What if I need you for something?”

  “Then you can call me,” I said.

  “I’d need your number for that.”

  “It’s in my file. But you can always leave a message on my office phone and I’ll get back with you once I get into work,” I said.

  “You really don’t like me, do you?” he asked.

  “I really, really don’t,” I said.

  “It’s more than my prior history with another company though. This is more than just your job.”

  “Preston Walker, from what I’ve read about you, there are men on death row with more integrity than you. You’re a playboy that bounces from girl to girl who screws around with people in your own company. You fire people with no reason, slash wages for those you don’t fire, and you expect women to crumble at your feet. The only reason you’re currently still talking to me is either because you’re sizing me up to keep my job or you’re wondering why I haven’t thrown myself at you yet.”

  “Why can’t I be doing both?” he asked.