“Yes.”
“Who exposed it?”
“She took it out.”
“So she took your penis out of your pants, and then rubbed it with her hand, is that right?” She peered at him over her glasses, and for a moment he glanced away in embarrassment. But when he looked back at her, he saw that she was not the least embarrassed, that her manner was more than clinical, more than professional-that she was in some deep way detached, and very cold.
“Yes,” he said. “That’s what happened.”
“And what was your reaction?”
“Well.” He gave an embarrassed shrug. “It worked.”
“You were sexually aroused.” Yes.
“Did you say anything to her?”
“Like what?”
“I’m just asking whether you said anything to her.”
“Like what? I don’t know.”
“Did you say anything at all?”
“I said something, I don’t know. I was feeling very uncomfortable.”
“Do you remember what you said?”
“I think I just kept saying `Meredith,’ trying to get her to stop, you know, but she kept interrupting me, or kissing me.”
“Did you say anything else besides `Meredith’?”
“I don’t remember.”
“How did you feel about what she was doing?”
“I felt uncomfortable.”
“Why?”
“I was afraid of getting involved with her, because she was my boss now, and because I was married now and I didn’t want any complications in my life.
You know, an office affair.”
“Why not?” Fernandez asked.
The question took him aback. “Why not?”
“Yes.” She looked at him directly, her eyes cool, appraising. “After all, you’re alone with a beautiful woman. Why not have an affair?”
“Jesus.”
“It’s a question most people would ask.”
“I’m married.”
“So what? Married people have affairs all the time.”
“Well,” he said. “For one thing, my wife is a lawyer and very suspicious.”
“Do I know her?”
“Her name is Susan Handler. She’s with Lyman, King.”
Fernandez nodded. “I’ve heard of her. So. You were afraid that she would find out.”
“Sure. I mean, you have an affair in the office, and everybody’s going to know. There isn’t any way to keep it quiet.”
“So you were concerned about this becoming known.”
“Yes. But that wasn’t the main reason.”
“What was the main reason?”
“She was my boss. I didn’t like the position I was in. She was, you know . . . well, she had the right to fire me. If she wanted to. So it was like I had to do it. I
was very uncomfortable.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“I tried.”
“How did you try?”
“Well, I just tried.”
“Would you say that you indicated to her that her advances were not welcome?”
“Eventually, yes.”
“How is that?”
“Well, eventually, we continued this . . . whatever you call it, foreplay or whatever, and she had her panties off, and”
“I’m sorry. How did she come to have her panties off?”
“I took them off.”
“Did she ask you to do that?”
“No. But I got pretty worked up at one point, I was going to do it, or at least I was thinking about doing it.”
“You were going to have intercourse.” Her voice again cool. The pen scratching.
“Yes.”
“You were a willing participant.”
“For a while there. Yes.”
“In what way were you a willing participant?” she asked. “What I mean is, did you initiate touching her body or breast or genitals without her encouragement?”
“I don’t know. She was pretty much encouraging everything.”
“I am asking, did you volunteer. Did you do it on your own. Or did she, for example, take your hand and place it on her-”
“No. I did it on my own.”
“What about your earlier reservations?”
“I was worked up. Excited. I didn’t care at that point.”
“All right. Go on.”
He wiped his forehead. “I’m being very honest with you.”
“That’s exactly what you should be. It’s the best thing all around. Please go on.”