“I don’t specialize in class action litigation, but I know legal experts who do. Class action suits can be tricky. Why not a lawsuit?”
“We’ve found seventeen women who’ve experienced the same situation,” Lucia clarified.
“And what was that experience?” I asked. As soon as I said the words, my gut gave a hard twist.
“The senior Richmond and two of his sons have sexually tormented, preyed upon, harassed, and in some cases, many cases, raped women in their employment. In every case, we’ve been fired within weeks after things went ‘too far.’” Heedless of my request to keep the files for later, Teresa pulled photos—each showing different Latina women of varying ages, yet all with the same look.
My stomach did a full twisting layout this time.
Everything inside me said they were telling the truth.
What had my father done?
Questions rained down on me like confetti, but the biggest one was: If this was happening, how on earth had the rumors not leaked before now? As if reading my thoughts, she pulled out a signed non-disclosure agreement. “We were all required to sign this in order to receive severance. In every case, we were terminated for in-office misconduct.”
My brows knitted closer together as I reached for the NDA, which was attached to a corporate case file for termination.
“Most of us have children or family who depend on us. We feared repercussions. If we signed it, they gave us a five-thousand-dollar severance package, didn’t fight unemployment payouts, and gave a good reference while looking for another position,” Teresa explained.
She sat back, elbows on the armrests, hands clasped tighter. “As far as we know, I was the last victim. Your brother, Jonathon Richmond, who’s the chief operating officer had been making lude comments and occasionally put me in a position where he was touchy-feely with me. I knew it was wrong, but I needed the job and a good reference on my resume. I’m a managerial accountant who was promoted to the executive floor shortly after being hired. It was a real big deal for me.”
Teresa shook her head, as if trying to clear some rogue thought. “I’m rambling, and I’m sorry. I began keeping the video recording on my phone because of how creepy he was. One evening, I was required to stay to finish a project, so I had my phone recording. Two of your brothers sexually assaulted me, but I don’t remember it.” Her cheeks reddened as she glanced away. “The next day I called in sick, because I was. I’m not even sure how I got home the night before, so I went to the ER. Because of my symptoms, they tested and found Rohypnol in my system. That’s how those awful men got to me. I didn’t tell anyone. I was scared and didn’t know what to do. They fired me by the end of the day.”
All the unsaid fear and emotion wafting off her made my lips mash together, and I cut my gaze to Lucia who picked up the thread and continued with her own horror story.
“I was assigned to the executive floor and had the same experience. I don’t know everyone involved who attacked me. Your father brought me a vodka tonic, thanking me for working late. I woke up the next morning in his office, on his sofa, alone.” Tears filled her eyes as she continued to speak. “I was so embarrassed. I thought I was going to work for a kind, Christian family man. He’s a monster.” The ire and hurt in her voice gave credence to her story.
“And you’ve gone to the authorities?” I asked. It was unimaginable to believe the hospital system that cared for Teresa hadn’t called the local police department.
“Teresa did,” Lucia answered. “I was afraid of the NDA they made us sign. I can’t afford to pay back the severance and then some. They also didn’t fight unemployment payments even though I was technically fired.”
“I filed a report with the Dallas Police myself. The hospital didn’t call them. I also filed a complaint with the Texas Workforce Commission, and the EEOC, and nothing’s happened except I was notified by Richmond Holdings that I’d broken my NDA. They now say I owe them money.” Teresa unscrewed the cap on the bottle of water and took a quick drink before continuing. “I was twenty-three years old when it happened. I’m also first-generation American. The fear stemming from my parents being immigrants in the United States frightened me to stay quiet, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being preyed upon. I have a colleague in human resources who connected me to Lucia.”
Lucia’s hand went to her chest, laying on her heart. These women were frightened, but brave. It was remarkable.
“I’m DACA. I never told anyone about what happened, not even my husband. I was ashamed of allowing myself to be in such a vulnerable position. I knew better than to even sip the drink he gave me.”
“How old are you?” I asked Lucia.
“I’m twenty-six. It happened to me two years ago.”
“And Teresa?” I asked.
“Last year, not even a year ago,” she answered.
My outward calm didn’t convey the inner chaos running laps around my head, but these women didn’t need to see that. They needed my professionalism and my help.
“And you’ve made me this file that substantiates everything?” I asked. My chair popped forward, gathering the photos in front of me. I sifted through them, glancing at each one closely.
“Yes, sir,” Lucia affirmed. “We’ve found seventeen women documented over the past ten years. We were told the women prior to ten years ago can’t be a part of the case. But we have a list of those names as well.”
“That’s criminal. This is civil. We can look back further,” I stated, distractedly. Every single woman looked the same. Long dark hair parted in the middle. Almond-shaped dark eyes. That was the obvious pattern I saw among them, which was a far cry from the blond-haired, blue-eyed clan I came from.
I let the silence in the room linger as I lost myself to the facts as stated. Seventeen women in ten years. My father and two brothers. I had never noticed any signs of this when I was a part of their lives. What involvement did my other siblings have? Did they know what was happening? Were they complicit? Damn, what kind of family did I come from?
My body tingled as I fully absorbed the egregious behavior.
“We fully expect you to tell us no,” Teresa said, drawing my eye to her. “But after watching your videos with your family on TikTok, I felt like you were worth the try. You feel different than them. All other doors have been shut in our faces. You’re our last hope.”
