Hot MILF Manager

Preview:
My name is Levi Hammond and I just graduated from college three months ago.
You're probably thinking Great! Good job buddy!
You're wrong.
Right after college I got a job, a pretty good job, at least that's what everyone said.
An entry-level position at Greenfield Business Analytics.
What? You've never heard of them?
Yeah, nobody has. But they invented this huge online database about how different companies are performing and for some reason some people will pay a lot of money for that kind of service. We are a subscription service.
Wait just a minute. Did I just say we?
When I saw we, I'm talking about all the employees here at Greenfield Business Analytics, all one thousand of us, all thirty floors of us. Yeah. We.
Sorry about the rambling, but sitting at a desk all day and staring at a computer screen will do that to a man.
That's where I was, sitting at my desk, my own little personal cubicle, gray carpet wall to the left of me, another gray carpet wall to my right, my computer front and center, a few pens strewn about, a notepad with a Greenfield Business Analytics heading, a half-eaten honeybun, and a half-drank can of lemon-lime soda that was getting warm.
I had my coat off, because that was the first thing I did when I got here, took my coat off and hung it over the back of my chair, and I had my tie loosened, because that's what I always did around three o'clock after venturing to the vending machine for that sweet and sticky honeybun and that sugary tangy goodness known as lemon-lime soda.
I took another sip of that warm soda and swallowed it down, then I slid up under my desk, hovered my fingers over the keyboard, and started on the bio section of a report about the country's oldest thimble company. I didn't even know we were still making thimbles. We are.
I was typing away, rewriting what was on the company's website when my e-mail notification chimed.
That harp-like sound might as well have been the laughter of Satan himself. An e-mail this late in the day was not a good sign. It probably meant I'd be working late.
I slumped in my chair, minimized the window about the thimble company, and looked at my inbox. I clicked on the newest one without even reading the subject.
I scanned the usual business intro and jumped down to the second paragraph where the real meat of the message was. I stopped when I read the first sentence.
Greenfield will be under new management starting tomorrow.
I gulped.
New management. I was just now starting to get along with my current manager, a tight-ass named Gary.
Damn.
I kept reading.
The next line hit hard.
If you received this e-mail you will be retained by Greenfield.
That made me breathe a sigh of relief. Sure, I didn't love my job, but I definitely needed it.
I guess at that moment, word started getting around that if you had an e-mail you were staying and if you didn'twell, bye.
"That's bullshit!" I heard someone say.
"I don't even care," another person said.
"How will I pay for all my aquarium maintenance now?" said yet another voice.
I slowly stood, rising up from my cubicle like an unsure prairie dog. I saw about a dozen people hastily gathering up their knick-knacks from their desk and stomping to the elevator. I slowly sat back down, waiting for the room to calm down again.
I went back to the e-mail, reading all the corporate speak and finally getting to something good on the last line.
Your new manager, Brooke Lispin, will meet with you first thing in the morning.
"Brooke Lispin," I said the name out loud.
Didn't sound like a manager's name.
Then I heard a shout.
I popped my head up again and saw, Gary, my current manager running toward the elevator with a computer monitor. "They can't do this!" He yelled, his voice taking on a maniacal tone. His eyes

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