His face changes, his eyes change , he moves quickly and seems like he knows what I’m thinking sometimes . He knows me. He’s known me for a while , like a stalker who knows . That dream, which had felt too real. The reality had seemed fake. What did it all mean? Franks walks into the office so I start typing again. He was quiet again today. He’d order me what to do and then he’d blank me. I’d still catch him watching me, but he seemed more assessing me than leering now.
I didn’t like it. This new him. It left me more nervous than the flirty one. At least then I knew what he wanted. Now I didn’t. I could get a read from him what he was thinking or feeling. His phone starts ringing on his desk. Without looking up, he picks up “Frank speaking “, he says robotically, whoever it is on the oth
