“Yeah, well, you’re a plaintiff.”
“No, I’m not,” he said. “I’m a potential plaintiff.”
There was a moment of silence.
Susan stared at him. Her eyes scanned his face. She frowned. He watched her put it together. “You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“You must be out of your mind.”
“No. Look at the situation. DigiCom’s in the middle of a merger with a very conservative East Coast company. A company that’s already pulled out of one merger because an employee had a little bad publicity. Supposedly this employee used some rough language while firing a temp secretary, and then Conley-White pulled out. They’re very skittish about publicity. Which means the last thing anybody at DigiCom wants is a sexual harassment suit against the new female vice president.”
“Tom. Do you realize what you’re saying?”
“Yes,” he said.
“If you do this, they’re going to go crazy. They’re going to try to destroy you.”
“I know.”
“Have you talked to Max about this? Maybe you should.”
“The hell with Max. He’s a crazy old man.”
“I’d ask him. Because this isn’t really your thing, Tom. You were never a corporate infighter. I don’t know if you can pull this off.”
“I think I can.”
“It’ll be nasty. In a day or so, you’re going to wish you had taken the Austin job.”
“Fuck it.”
“It’ll get really mean, Tom. You’ll lose your friends.”
“Fuck it.”
`Just so you’re ready.”
“I am.” Sanders looked at his watch. “Susan, I want you to take the kids and visit your mother for a few days.” Her mother lived in Phoenix. “If you go home now and pack, you can make the eight o’clock flight at Sea-Tac. I’ve booked three seats for you.”
She stared at him, as if she were seeing a stranger. “You’re really going to do this . . . ,” she said slowly.
“Yes. I am.”
“Oh boy.” She bent over, picked up her purse from the floor, and pulled out her day organizer.
He said, “I don’t want you or the kids to be involved. I don’t want anybody pushing a news camera in their faces, Susan.”
“Well, just a minute . . .” She ran her finger down her appointments. “I can move that . . . And . . . conference call . . . Yes.” She looked up. “Yes. I can leave for a few days.” She glanced at her watch. “I guess I better hurry and pack.”
He stood up and walked outside the restaurant with her. It was raining; the light on the street was gray and bleak. She looked up at him and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck, Tom. Be careful.”
He could see that she was frightened. It made him frightened, too.
“I’ll be okay.”
“I love you,” she said. And then she walked quickly away in the rain. He waited for a moment to see if she looked back at him, but she never did.
Walking back to his office, he suddenly realized how alone he felt. Susan was leaving with the kids. He was on his own now. He had imagined he would feel relieved, free to act without restraint, but instead he felt abandoned and at risk. Chilled, he thrust his hands into the pockets of his raincoat.
He hadn’t handled the lunch with Susan well. And she would be going off, mulling over his answers.
Why didn’t you tell me?
He hadn’t answered that well. He hadn’t been able to express the conflicting feelings he had experienced last night. The unclean feeling, and the guilt, and the sense that he had somehow done something wrong, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong.
You could have told me.
He hadn’t done anything wrong, he told himself. But then why hadn’t he told her? He had no answer to that. He passed a graphics shop, and a plumbing supply store with white porcelain fixtures in a window display.
You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want to.
But that made no sense. Why wouldn’t he want to tell her? Once again, his thoughts were interrupted by images from the past: the white garter belt… a bowl of popcorn …. the stained-glass flower on the door to his apartment.
Cut the crap, Tom. This has nothing to do with me.
Blood in the white bathroom sink, and Meredith laughing about it. Why was she laughing? He couldn’t remember now; it was just an isolated image. A stewardess putting a tray of airline food in front of him. A suitcase on the bed. The television sound turned off. The stained-glass flower, in gaudy orange and purple.
Have you talked to Max?
She was right about that, he thought. He should talk to Max. And he would, right after he gave Blackburn the bad news.
Sanders was back at his office at two-thirty. He was surprised to find Blackburn there, standing behind Sanders’s desk, talking on his phone. Blackburn hung up, looking a little guilty. “Oh, Tom. Good. I’m glad you’re back.” He walked back around Sanders’s desk. “What have you decided?”
“I’ve thought this over very carefully,” Sanders said, closing the door to the hallway.
“And?”
“I’ve decided to retain Louise Fernandez of Marin, Howard to represent me.”
Blackburn looked puzzled. “To represent you?”
“Yes. In the event it becomes necessary to litigate.”
“Litigate,” Blackburn said. “On what basis would you litigate, Tom?”
“Sexual harassment under Title VII,” Sanders said.
“Oh, Tom,” Blackburn said, making a mournful face. “That would be unwise. That would be very unwise. I urge you to reconsider.”
“I’ve reconsidered all day,” Sanders said. “But the fact is, Meredith Johnson harassed me, she made advances to me and I turned her down. Now she’s a woman scorned, and she is being vindictive toward me. I’m prepared to sue if it comes to that.”
“Tom…”
“That’s it, Phil. That’s what’ll happen if you transfer me out of the division.”
Blackburn threw up his hands. “But what do you expect us to do? Transfer Meredith?”
“Yes,” Sanders said. “Or fire her. That’s the usual thing one does with a harassing supervisor.”
“But you forget: she’s accused you of harassment, too.”
“She’s lying,” Sanders said.
“But there are no witnesses, Tom. No evidence either way. You and
she are both our trusted employees. How do you expect us to decide who to believe?”
“That’s your problem, Phil. All I have to say is, I’m innocent. And I’m prepared to sue.”
Blackburn stood in the middle of the room, frowning. “Louise Fernandez is a smart attorney. I can’t believe she recommended this course of action to you.”
“No. This is my decision.”
“Then it’s very unwise,” Blackburn said. “You are putting the company in a very difficult position.”
“The company is putting me in a difficult position.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Phil said. “I hope this doesn’t force us to terminate you.”
Sanders stared at him, meeting his gaze evenly. “I hope not, too,” he said. “But I don’t have confidence that the company has taken my complaint seriously. I’ll fill out a formal charge of sexual harassment with Bill Everts in HR later today. And I’m asking Louise to draw up the necessary papers to file with the state Human Rights Commission.”
“Christ.”
“She should file first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t see what the rush is.”
“There’s no rush. It’s just a filing. To get the complaint on record. I’m required to do that.”
“But this is very serious, Tom.”
“I know it, Phil.”
“I’d like to ask you to do me a favor, as your friend.”
“What’s that?”
“Hold off the formal complaint. At least, with the HRC. Give us a chance to conduct an in-house investigation before you take this outside.”
“But you aren’t conducting an in-house investigation, Phil.”
“Yes, we are.”
“You didn’t even want to hear my side of the story this morning. You told me it didn’t matter.”
“That’s not true,” Blackburn said. “You misunderstood me entirely. Of course it matters. And I assure you, we will hear your story in detail as part of our investigation.”
“I don’t know, Phil,” Sanders said. “I don’t see how the company can be neutral on this issue. It seems everything is stacked against me. Everybody believes Meredith and not me.”
“I assure you that is not the case.”
“It certainly seems like it. You told me this morning how well connected she is. How many allies she has. You mentioned that several times.”
“Our investigation will be scrupulous and impartial. But in any case it seems reasonable to ask you to wait for the outcome before filing with a state agency.”
“How long do you want me to wait?”
“Thirty days.”
Sanders laughed.
“But that’s the standard time for a harassment investigation.”
“You could do it in a day, if you wanted to.”
“But you must agree, Tom, that we’re very busy right now, with all the merger meetings.”
“That’s your problem, Phil. I have a different problem. I’ve been unjustly treated by my superior, and I feel I have a right, as a longstanding senior employee, to see my complaint resolved promptly.”
Blackburn sighed. “All right. Let me get back to you,” he said. He hurried out of the room.
Sanders slumped in his chair and stared into space.
It had begun.
Fifteen minutes later, Blackburn met with Garvin in the fifth-floor executive conference room. Also present at the meeting were Stephanie Kaplan and Bill Everts, the head of Human Resources at DigiCom.
Blackburn began the meeting by saying, “Tom Sanders has retained outside counsel and is threatening litigation over Meredith Johnson.”
“Oh, Christ,” Garvin said.
“He’s claiming sexual harassment.”
Garvin kicked the leg of the table. “That son of a bitch.”
Kaplan said, “What does he say happened?”
“I don’t have all the details yet,” Blackburn said. “But in essence he claims that Meredith made sexual overtures to him in her office last night, that he turned her down, and that now she is being vindictive.”
Garvin gave a long sigh. “Shit,” he said. “This is just what I didn’t want to happen. This could be a disaster.”
“I know, Bob.”
Stephanie Kaplan said, “Did she do it?”
“Christ,” Garvin said. “Who knows in these situations. That’s always the question.” He turned to Everts. “Has Sanders come to you about this?”
“Not yet, no. I imagine he will.”
“We have to keep it in-house,” Garvin said. “That’s essential.”
“Essential,” Kaplan said, nodding. “Phil has to make sure it stays in-house.”
“I’m trying,” Blackburn said. “But Sanders is talking about filing tomorrow with the HRC.”
“That’s a public filing?”
“Yes.”
“How soon is it made public?”
“Probably within forty-eight hours. Depending on how fast HRC does the paperwork.”
“Christ,” Garvin said. “Forty-eight hours? What’s the matter with him? Doesn’t he realize what he’s doing?”
Blackburn said, “I think he does. I think he knows exactly.”
“Blackmail?”
“Well. Pressure.”
Garvin said, “Have you talked to Meredith?”
“Not since this morning.”
“Somebody’s got to talk to her. I’ll talk to her. But how are we going to stop Sanders?”
Blackburn said, “I asked him to hold off the HRC filing, pending our investigation, for thirty days. He said no. He said we should be able to conduct our investigation in one day.”
“Well, he got that right,” Garvin said. “For all kinds of reasons, we damn well better conduct the investigation in one day.”
“Bob, I don’t know if that’s possible,” Blackburn said. “We have significant exposure here. The corporation is required by law to conduct a thorough and impartial investigation. We can’t appear to be rushed or-”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Garvin said. “I don’t want to hear this legal pissing and moaning. What are we talking about? Two people, right? And no witnesses, right? So there’s just two people. How long does it take to interview two people?”
“Well, it may not be that simple,” Blackburn said, with a significant look.
“I’ll tell you what’s simple,” Garvin said. “This is what’s simple. Conley-White is a company obsessed with its public image. They sell textbooks to school boards that believe in Noah’s ark. They sell magazines for kids. They have a vitamin company. They have a health-food company that markets baby foods. Rainbow Mush or something. Now Conley-White’s buying our company, and in the middle of the acquisition a high-profile female executive, the woman in line to become CEO within two years, is accused of seeking sexual favors from a married man. You know what they’re going to do if that gets out? They’re going to bail. You know that Nichols is looking for any excuse to weasel out of this thing. This is perfect for him. Christ.”
“But Sanders has already questioned our impartiality,” Blackburn said. “And I’m not sure how many people know about the, ah, prior questions that we-“