He's a Keeper

Chapter 1

           

He's looking at me again. I can feel his eyes digging into the side of my face.

I look at him from the corner of my eyes.

He's staring right at me.

I resist the urge to shiver, straightening my pile of papers.

I need to go to the copy machine before my lunch break.

Silently, I grab my stack of papers and stand up, pushing my chair in.

I feel glares being shot in my direction.

I walk down the hall to the elevator.

I hear his windbreaker pants swish as he follows me.

Nervous, I get on the elevator, hitting the B button and pressing door close repeatedly before he can get on.

He slips on still.

I need to be polite.

I look at him.

"What floor are you going to, sir?" I ask politely.

He looks me up and down.

"Whatever one you're going to, babe."

I resist the urge to shudder.

"Okay." I say.

I leave it on basement, standing close to the exit.

He moves very close to me. I pretend not to notice, holding tightly to the strap of my purse.

It started out discreet. Small looks here and there. He hired me for my looks. That was abundantly clear.

He's sneaking glances at me, coming on the floor every now and again.

He started getting worse. He spends more time up here. He'll yell at other employee's for messing up, and then favor me over everyone. He's scream at everyone and then say all of you need to start following Felicity! Everyone thinks we're having sex. People here that I used to be friends with scoff at me now. My boss follows me everywhere. He'll sometimes wait outside the bathroom for me. The other day, I went to put my water in the fridge, and I found a container in there with my name on it in almost illegible handwriting.

I opened it and it was tai food.

I don't eat tai food. I hate tai food.

I gave it to some other guy.

He touches my shoulder a lot, or runs his hand down my arm.

He grabbed my butt this morning. He calls me babe all the time.

The worst part is that he is my father's age.

He's the boss of an insurance company, and he doesn't even dress up. He wears black windbreakers, black Nike slides without any socks, and sweatshirts. His hair is always greasy, too. It's disgusting.

I do tech support online and then I have to make paper copies of the conversation, and then put them in ABC order by customer name.

I work in a skyscraper in the heart of Chicago. I have to wear the nice clothes. I'm in nice dress slacks that do wonders for my butt, and a white button down.

My boss asks me out all the time. He's called me into his office, told me to shut the door, and asked me out.

It's harassment at this point, because I've politely told him I'm uncomfortable.

My Dad said that if I quit, he'll support me financially until I find another job.

I'm starting to think about it.