“And she was lying on the couch with her skirt pulled up, and she wanted me to enter her, to . . . and she was sort of moaning, you know, saying, `No, no,’ and suddenly I had this feeling again that I didn’t want to do this, so I said, `Okay, let’s not,’ and I got off the couch and started getting dressed.”
“You broke off from the encounter yourself.”
“Yes.”
“Because she had said, `no’?”
“No, that was just an excuse. Because I was feeling uneasy at that point.”
“Uh-huh. So you got off the couch and started to get dressed . . .”
“Yes.”
“And did you say anything at that time? To explain your actions?”
“Yes. I said that I didn’t think this was a good idea, and I didn’t feel good about it.”
“And how did she respond?”
“She got very angry. She started throwing things at me. Then she started hitting me. And scratching me.”
“Do you have any marks?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“On my neck and chest.”
“Have they been photographed yet?”
“No.”
“All right. Now when she scratched you, how did you respond?”
“I just tried to get dressed and get out of there.”
“You didn’t respond directly to her attack?”
“Well, at one point I pushed her back, to get her away from me, and she tripped on a table and fell on the floor.”
“You make it sound like pushing her was self-defense on your part.”
“It was. She was ripping the buttons off my shirt. I had to go home, and I didn’t want my wife to see my shirt, so I pushed her away.”
“Did you ever do anything that was not self-defense?”
“No.”
“Did you hit her at any time?”
“No.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“All right. What happened then?”
“She threw a wineglass at me. But by then I was pretty much dressed. I went and got my phone from her windowsill, and then I went-”
“I’m sorry. You got your phone? What phone is that?”
“I had a cellular phone.” He took it out of his pocket and showed her.
“We all carry them in the company, because we make them. And I had been using the phone to make a call from her office, when she started kissing me.”
“Were you in the middle of a call when she started kissing you?”
“Yes.” “Whom were you talking to?”
“An answering machine.” “I see.” She was clearly disappointed. “Go on, please.”
“So I went and got my phone and got the hell out of there.
She was screaming that I couldn’t do this to her, that she would kill me.”
“And you responded how?”
“Nothing. I just left.”
“And this was at what time?”
“About six forty-five.”
“Did anybody see you leave?”
“The cleaning lady.”
“Do you happen to know her name?”
“No.”
“Ever seen her before?”
“No.”
“Do you think she worked for your company?”
“She had a company uniform on. You know, for the maintenance firm that cleans up our offices.”
“Uh-huh. And then?”
He shrugged. “I went home.”
“Did you tell your wife what happened?”
“No.”
“Did you tell anybody what happened?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I guess I was in shock.”
She paused and looked back over her notes. “All right. You say you were sexually harassed. And you have described a very direct overture by this woman. Since she was your boss, I would have thought you’d feel yourself at some risk in turning her down.”
“Well. I was concerned. Sure. But I mean, don’t I have the right to turn her down? Isn’t that what this is about?”
“Certainly you have that right. I’m asking about your state of mind.”
“I was very upset.”
“Yet you did not want to tell anybody what had happened? You did not want to share this upsetting experience with a colleague? A friend? A family member, perhaps a brother? Anybody at all?”
“No. It didn’t even occur to me. I didn’t know how to deal with what- I guess I was in shock. I just wanted it to go away. I wanted to think it had never happened.”
“Did you make any notes?”
“No.”
“All right. Now, you mentioned that you didn’t tell your wife. Would you say you concealed it from your wife?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”