Not My Daughter

‘It wasn’t anything much at first…’

The door bangs open and Lara stands there, dressed in her usual work uniform of a black power suit and a silk blouse in a vivid shade, this time chartreuse. Her shiny black bob swings in a hard angle against her chin as her eyes narrow.

‘Sasha, isn’t it?’

Sasha has already jumped out of her chair, nearly knocking it over, before nodding quickly and then scuttling to the door.

‘I’d better get to work…’ she mumbles, and I fling out a hand, willing her to stay even though I know she won’t.

‘Let’s continue this conversation, Sasha,’ I call a bit desperately. ‘How about next week?’ But she’s already gone.

‘Let me guess,’ Lara says flatly as she sheds her coat and blazer and marches on stiletto heels into her office. ‘She came whimpering to you about some kind of sexual harassment.’

I flinch, wondering if Lara realises how insulting she sounds, how much trouble she could get into for speaking like that. I suspect she does, just as I suspect the CEO and VPs of the company do – and none of them care all that much. Tech companies tend to be a man’s world.

‘She was speaking to me about a sexual harassment complaint, yes,’ I reply as I follow her into her office and close the door. ‘I’ve started making notes, but it’s still very early stages…’

‘That’s good,’ Lara affirms. ‘These things never need to go too far, do they?’

‘I’m not sure about that, Lara—’

‘Sa

sha didn’t seem very sure, either,’ she remarks as she sits behind her desk and pulls her laptop towards her. ‘Hemming and hawing all over the place. Is it a case of morning-after regret, do you think?’ She smiles at me expectantly, as if we’re having a chat about HR strategies, and not a possible case of harassment, assault, or worse.

‘I don’t think so, no,’ I say after a moment.

‘Who’s the bloke, then?’

I hesitate, because I know Lara won’t react well to this.

She taps her acrylic nails on her desk. ‘Anna?’

‘Mike Jacobs,’ I admit, and Lara blows out a noisy breath.

‘That is not good. No. That cannot happen.’

‘Lara, it’s not a question of what can or can’t happen, but what did,’ I protest, and predictably she rolls her eyes.

‘Mike Jacobs? Come on, Anna. He’s Head of IT. He’s been here donkey’s years. He has a wife.’

‘None of those facts have any bearing on whether sexual harassment took place,’ I say quietly. My heart is starting to beat hard because Lara does not like it when I push back, even gently, and too often I don’t. But I think of Sasha’s stricken face, her bitten nails, and something in me aches to be her advocate, not her betrayer.

Lara cocks her head. ‘If you don’t feel you can handle this case, Anna, then I can certainly do so.’

And Lara will bulldoze straight over Sasha.

‘I’m just saying,’ I reply as carefully as I can, ‘that the climate has changed significantly since the last sexual harassment complaint we had in – what? 2016?’ She nods tersely. She most likely keeps them all in a mental rolodex. ‘With the advent of the whole #MeToo movement—’

‘Oh, please,’ Lara interjects with a scoffing laugh, and I try to keep my voice and face both neutral.

‘Lara, it’s an issue. We both know that. And Qi Tech needs a viral smear campaign a lot less than it needs one sexual harassment complaint.’

Lara stares at me levelly. ‘So what are you suggesting? Throw Mike under the bus?’

‘No, I’m suggesting we follow the proper protocols and procedures. Encourage Sasha to relate her experience with a colleague, friend, or union representative present. Make detailed notes and record the conversation if necessary. Ask Mike for his perspective on whatever happened, with an appropriate representative. And consult the company solicitor to make sure we’re covered legally.’

‘Fine.’ Lara exhales again, shrugging impatiently. ‘We’ll follow the protocols. Let me know when the meeting is arranged.’