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Frank slowly sat down. The tight skirt and heels made it awkward, but he managed as best he could. For the next few minutes, he fiddled with the pens on Heather’s desk. He was too nervous to do much of anything. He thought about going out to talk to her secretary, but he wasn’t sure what he would say. He decided the only thing he could do was wait until his own body got back from lunch. Luckily, the door to Heather’s office was locked, and no one would dare bother her. He just had to wait it out. Every second doing so felt like torture. He was reminded of every time he was stuck in a meeting with Heather or even just in the same room, but this was worse. So much worse...
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