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I grimace with him. “No wonder you settled the case.”
“No, the recordings weren’t the reason I settled, actually. I knew they were illegal. Both parties have to consent to recording in California, thank God. But what they made me realize was she’d totally set me up. From day one, I’d been her mark. She came into my office to give me that BJ, knowing she was ultimately going to come after me. And that freaked me out. I knew it was going to be her word against mine, if she accused me of something. And normally, I’d take on that challenge. But what would someone like that be willing to say about me?”
“Why didn’t you turn her in for making those illegal recordings? That’s a crime, right?”
“And let the police hear all that shit? Ha! No, thanks. Plus, I knew I was guilty as shit. I was her boss, and I’d fucked her. No getting around that.”
“So what happened? Did she demand hush money?”
“Not at first. Instead, she decided her job duties had become ‘optional.’ For a couple months, she came and went as she pleased. Never made deadlines. Took days off, without calling in. I knew she was daring me to fire her, so she could sue me. Obviously, I didn’t want a lawsuit. I just wanted to move past the sex thing and have her do her job, as required. But then she went MIA for a week, without a word, so I fired her, and she sued my ass a day later, making me sound like a monster. But guess what? Under California law, I was a monster, and I fully acknowledge that. When you’re the boss, you can’t fuck your employees. Period. There’s no gray area. It’s a strict liability state, meaning there’s no defense. No saying, ‘Hey, it was consensual.’ No saying, ‘Hey, she came onto me.’ If you’re the boss, and you’ve fucked an employee, then you’ve committed sexual harassment.”
“Oh, Reed.”
“It’s actually a fair system, ninety-nine percent of the time. Sociopaths like Stephanie are rare. I’ve thought about this quite a bit.”
“I’m sure you have.”
“And I’ve realized something big. As the boss, I can never know, for sure, if an employee genuinely wants to sleep with me, or if she’s only saying yes because she’s afraid of losing her job if she says no. She could say yes. She could even come on to me. But I’ve realized there’s no way to separate the fact that I hold all the power, when it comes to my employees. So, in the end, I’ve got no quarrel with the way the laws are written. The rules are clear and there for a reason. Just because I’m an idiot who let myself get played by a con artist, doesn’t mean the laws aren’t fair. Which is exactly what Stephanie was, by the way: a con artist. Leonard’s investigator did some digging and found out she’d done the exact same thing twice before.”
“No way.”
“Yep. She’d slept with her boss, made secret recordings, and then threatened a sexual harassment lawsuit to get herself paid. I was the only one who didn’t pay her off right away, so she’d never filed anything before. But, still, it was the same MO.”
“Why the heck did you settle when you realized she’s a con artist? Surely, the jury would have believed you, when they found out she’d done it before!”
“That’s exactly what I said to Leonard. But he and his team convinced me those other instances wouldn’t get into evidence, and I’d get reamed at trial. He said, even without the recordings being admissible against me, any jury would hate my guts for fucking around with an employee. Leonard said my cocaine use would come out. And that would make them believe Stephanie’s version of events. He said I could get hit for ten million or more in punitive damages, given how my company had just skyrocketed. So, I caved.” He rubs his forehead, looking distraught. “I paid her off in a confidential settlement that required her to destroy all the illegal recordings she’d made of me, got my ass to rehab, and tried not to think about Stephanie fucking Moreland, ever again.”
My heart is physically aching at the expression on Reed’s face. “You haven’t done coke since then?”
“No. Never.”
“How much did you wind up paying her?”
Reed pauses. “It was a confidential settlement, so I’m technically not allowed to talk about it, any more than she is. I’ll tell you the number, but only if you swear you’re just Georgie right now. Not the Intrepid Reporter. Not playing me, in any way. Look me in the eye, and promise this will stay between you and me, forever, and I’ll tell you.”
My heart is thumping. “I promise, Reed. I’ll never tell a soul.”
“You’re not recording this conversation?”
