Triplets Make Five

Only this time, they were deep sea blue.

As blue as the cardigan she had thrown over her shoulders.

“Not up to your taste?” I asked.

“I’m not sure how many calories you believe these curves require, but it’s not this much,” she said. “Care to share?”

She jutted her hip out and strolled into my office. She made her way for the sitting area in the corner, out of the line of sight of anyone. I had to gather myself from the way she tossed her hip like that. The way it jiggled her luscious tits and the way her body moved fluidly with her motions. I followed her into my office and closed the door behind me, watching as she set up lunch for us.

“A picnic?” I asked.

“Would you rather eat in the lounge? Because I’m not really a fan of the lounge,” Delilah said.

“Here’s fine.”

I had to say, it was hard to take me by surprise. But this was the second time in less than three days that Delilah Kent had done just that. I walked over to her and sat down on the couch, reaching for the plate she had made me. She handed me a flavored water and I took it from her, wondering where in the world she got it from.

“Now you’re the one that’s shocked,” Delilah said. “I have a mini-fridge in my office.”

“You mean your broom closet,” I said.

“I prefer it to the other offices,” she said.

“Might I ask why?”

“The windows make me feel exposed. And there’s plenty of space for people to come bug me.”

“Your office is in a broom closet because you don’t want people bugging you?” I asked.

“Not unless it’s necessary. I don’t want people just strolling in and talking to me.”

“Not a fan of conversation?” I asked.

“Not a fan of bullshit.”

I had to bite back my laughter as the two of us ate together. She was unique, I would give her that. But there was something cozy about her as well. Something warm and inviting. Like an old friend or a childhood memory.

“It’s nice to meet a woman that isn’t caught up in drama,” I said.

“I’m not caught up in anything,” Delilah said. “I’m not really noticed around here.”

“I noticed you,” I said.

Her eyes flickered up towards me and it was insane. I could’ve sworn they were green that night at the bar.

“I see you put another meeting with the graphics design team on the schedule,” she said.

“Yep. It’s a tentative one. To discuss the drafts for the new sign should they come in on time,” I said.

“I love graphic design. It’s what I would’ve done had I not gone into accounting.”

“So, you’re an artist,” I said.

“Not like our team here is. I’m not that good. But…I dabble. Sketch things out and then try to bring them to life on the screen of a computer.”

“Why did you pursue accounting instead?” I asked.

&n