Michael Crichton - Disclosure

She pushed a half-eaten sandwich to the side of her desk. "I'm afraid I have a court appearance in an hour. Sometimes things get a bit rushed." She got out a yellow legal pad and set it before her. Her movements were quick, decisive.

Sanders watched her, sure she was the wrong person. He should never have come here. It was all a mistake. He looked around the office. There was a neat stack of bar charts for a courtroom appearance.

Fernandez looked up from the pad, her pen poised. It was one of those expensive fountain pens. "Would you like to tell me the situation?"

"Uh… I'm not sure where to begin."

"We could start with your full name and address, and your age."

"Thomas Robert Sanders." He gave his address.

"And your age?" "Forty-one."

"Occupation?" "I'm a division manager at Digital Communications. The Advanced Products Division."

"How long have you been at that company?"

"Twelve years." "Uh-huh. And in your present capacity?"

"Eight years." "And why are you here today, Mr. Sanders?"

"I've been sexually harassed."

"Uh-huh." She showed no surprise. Her expression was completely neutral. "You want to tell me the circumstances?"

"My boss, ah, came on to me." "And the name of your boss?"

"Meredith Johnson."

"Is that a man or a woman?"

"A woman." "Uhhuh." Again, no sign of surprise. She continued making notes steadily, the pen scratching. "When did this happen?"

"Last night."

"What were the exact circumstances?"

He decided not to mention the merger. "She has just been appointed my new boss, and we had several things to go over. She asked if we could meet at the end of the day."

"She requested this meeting?" "Yes."

"And where did the meeting take place?" "In her office. At six o'clock."

"Anybody else present?"

"No. Her assistant came in briefly, at the start of the meeting, then left. Before anything happened."

"I see. Go on."

"We talked for a while, about business, and we had some wine. She had gotten some wine. And then she came on to me. I was over by the window and suddenly she started kissing me. Then pretty soon we were sitting on the couch. And then she started, uh…" He hesitated. "How much detail do you want?"

"Just the broad strokes for now." She bit her sandwich. "You say you were kissing."

"Yes."

"And she initiated this?"

"Yes."

"What was your reaction when she did that?"

"I was uncomfortable. I'm married."

"Uh-huh. What was the general atmosphere in the meeting, prior to this kiss?"

"It was a regular business meeting. We were talking about business. But all the time, she was making, uh, suggestive remarks."

"Like what."

"Oh, about how good I looked. How I was in shape. How glad she was to see me."

"How glad she was to see you," Fernandez repeated, with a puzzled look.

"Yes. We knew each other before."

"You had a prior relationship?"

"Yes."

"When was that?"

"Ten years ago."

"And were you married then?"

”No.”

"Did you both work for the same company at that time?"

"No. I did, but she worked for another company."

"And how long did your relationship last?"

"About six months." "And have you kept up contact?"

"No. Not really."

"Any contact at all?"

"Once."

"Intimate?"

"No. Just, you know, hello in the hallway. At the office."

"I see. In the last eight years, have you ever been to her house or apartment?"

No.

"Dinners, drinks after work, anything?"

"No. I really haven't seen her at all. When she joined the company, she was in Cupertino, in Operations. I was in Seattle, in Advanced Products. We didn't have much contact."

"So during this time, she wasn't your superior?"

"No."

"Give me a picture of Ms. Johnson. How old?"

"Thirty-five."

"Would you characterize her as attractive?"

"Yes."

"Very attractive?"

"She was a Miss Teenage something as a kid."

"So you would say she's very attractive." The pen scratched on the legal pad.

"Yes."

"And how about other men-would you say they find her very attractive?"

"Yes."

"What about her manner with regard to sexual matters? Does she make jokes? Sexual jokes, innuendoes, ribald comments?"

"No, never."

"Body language? Flirtatious? Does she touch people?"

"Not really. She certainly knows she's good-looking, and she can play on that. But her manner is… kind of cool. She's the Grace Kelly type."

"They say Grace Kelly was very sexually active, that she had affairs with most of her leading men."

"I wouldn't know."

"Uh-huh. What about Ms. Johnson, does she have affairs inside the company?"

"I wouldn't know. I haven't heard anything."

Fernandez flipped to a new page on her pad. "All right. And how long has she been your supervisor? Or is she your supervisor?"

"Yes, she is. One day."

For the first time, Fernandez looked surprised. She glanced at him, and took another bite of her sandwich. "One day?"

"Yes. Yesterday was the first day of a new company organization. She had just been appointed."

"So the day she is appointed, she meets with you, in the evening." "Yes."

"All right. You were telling me, you were sitting on the couch and she was kissing you. And what happened then?"

"She unzipped-well, first of all, she started rubbing me."

"Your genitals."

"Yes. And kissing me." He found himself sweating. He wiped his forehead with his hand.

"I understand this is difficult. I'll try to make this as brief as possible," Fernandez said. "And then?"

"Then, she unzipped my pants, and started rubbing me with her hand."

"Was your penis exposed?"

"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."