Triplets Make Five - Page 85

“You make me feel beautiful,” I whispered.

“Because you are, Miss Ella. Because you are.”

We sank to his floor before he finally pulled out from between my legs. We laid up against his window, our bodies covered in sweat and cum before I slowly leaned over onto him. His fingertips danced in my hair, slowly untangling it as the two of us tried to catch our breaths.

Then, his phone rang out again, destroying the moment we’d worked so hard to create for ourselves.

15

Ella

I watched him move from me while my body slowly sank to the floor. Suddenly, I felt very cold and exposed. Where there was once a man to shield my body, now there was simply nothing. I felt vulnerable in the opulent house. I felt like I was somehow dirtying the crisp whites and paling the frozen grays. I felt like I was slicking up his floor with stuff that would just be a pain to clean so. So, I rose to my feet and scurried into his room in order to find my clothes.

And I heard him talking on the phone.

“Dominic, the fuck do you want?”

Dominic? Who was Dominic? Was that someone Foster worked with? He sounded angry, was something wrong?

“I told you exactly how I felt about those changes. What I said in the boardroom still stands. I’m still crunching numbers to see what I can do.”

He had to be talking about the complex. Was something already going wrong? Thank the stars above I’d kept my other job. I’d saved back two thousand extra dollars to cover anything that might pop up. I stepped into my clothes and shimmied them up my legs before I slipped my shoes on, but the next words that flew from his mouth caught my attention wholly.

“We could still cut them a deal if we sold them back for sixty thousand.”

Sixty thousand dollars!? The last time I’d talked with Foster in my apartment, he said he’d cut us a deal for forty thousand!

“We could skimp a bit on the amenities in their condos and diminish the quality of materials we used. That would bring the price down even more, and we could maybe throw in some sort of maintenance plan. They’d pay a fee every month, that would go into a bank account, and if

something happened because of the diminished product quality, we’d have the funds to fix it without going into debt. It’s a fucking win-win Dave. Wake up.”

Wait, who was Dave? I thought he was talking to a Dominic? What was going on? Why were the numbers now so high? I wouldn’t be able to afford something like that, let alone to purchase something that would need a protection plan from the fucking materials they used on the building. What kind of wool were they trying to pull over our eyes? Did they think we were fucking idiots?

“I’m not discussing this with you now. You’re the damn project manager, Diego. The highest I’m going to take the price of the condo for the current tenants that want to stay is sixty thousand. Make it work or you’re out of a job.”

Diego? What the fuck was this man’s name anyway? I was so lost, and I felt my heart shattering. My beautiful condo that I’d planned out with this gorgeous man had suddenly been stripped from me. I’d never be able to afford something like that on the payment plan Foster’s business was setting up for us. The interest rate alone on the original sum would eat through almost my entire first paycheck of the month! But, I was willing to pay that price to have my dream without the hassle of moving.

Moving meant movers, which meant boxes, which meant moving men, which meant time off work. That meant I wasn’t making as much money that week while spending more money than usual trying to move my fucking shit. The condo we’d built together while he was looking over my shoulder was not only my dream, it was convenient.

That stuff never happened to me. Ever.

But now, it should like it was a lie.

What would happen to us? If I couldn’t afford it, my neighbors would never be able to. What, did they think we weren’t good enough to live in their fancy fucking condos? Did they want to drive us out of town because they thought we were filth or something? Looking down on us while they sat on their piles of millions just laughing at the lot of us trying to scrape enough together to eat.

Who the fuck did they think we were?

I knew where we’d be, and the thought shivered me to my bone as I slipped out into his living room in my clothes. We’d be out on the streets. We’d have nowhere to go, and most of us would never be able to find another place. The great thing about that complex was that no one had ran anyone’s background or credit checks. No, it wasn’t safe, but it was the only place I could afford with the credit score I had and the money I made monthly. Living in the city was hard, but for a single woman whose only talents were singing and bringing people food, it was damn near impossible.

And now, I’d be living on the streets because some fucking business didn’t give a shit about us.

I heard him hang up the phone before he stormed back down the hallway. He darted into his room and emerged a few minutes later in a beautiful suit, but part of me missed the vulnerability of us being naked together. I planned to talk with him about it. To stop him at the door and keep him from whoever had beckoned for him until we had a chance to talk.

“Foster. Could we-”

“Not now, Ella. I’m sorry,” he said. “I gotta get to work. Some stuff’s come up with some important things. But, we’ll talk later. Soon. I promise.”

He gave me a quick peck on the cheek before his hand planted into my lower back. He ushered me into the elevator before the doors closed with a thud, and suddenly I didn’t want to be encased with him. I pressed myself into the opposite wall, painfully aware of the fact that Foster knew I was listening to him.

Tags: Nicole Elliot Romance
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