Crossing the Line
Today’s blog is excerpted from the novel “Drawing a Line- A look inside the corporate response to sexual harassment.” The novel introduces private detective Gina Girardi who is hired by a Chicago business to investigate the shooting of executive Sean O’Rielly. Here, Gina describes the investigation as it takes a new turn.
In looking for motive, I turned up issues surrounding the company’s acquisition of another company. This called for a road trip. I drove into Atlanta, for a luncheon meeting with former Smith Electronics controller LaTonya Washington. We’d agreed to meet at Peachtree Vineyards, the classy restaurant where Sean O’Rielly had welcomed the former Smith Electronics management team to the O’Rielly Electronics organization after the acquisition. I wanted to see the environment of the restaurant where the sequence of events unfolded that resulted in sexual harassment allegations. I thought that a meeting in the same location might further prompt recollections by LaTonya to help me gain insights into the events that preceded Sean’s shooting.
I arrived a couple of minutes late, Atlanta traffic is a bear. I announced myself to the maître d and was led to a corner table next to the southern exposure window with a 32nd-floor view of downtown Atlanta looking towards Hartsfield Airport, barely visible in the hazy mid-day sky. Peachtree Vineyards appeared to be the place in town for power lunches, as evidenced by white table cloths, six-piece silverware set-ups, fancy crown folded napkins at each setting, a male white shirt wait staff, a snooty maître d’, and, of course, the predominantly male clientele in business suits. As a well-dressed female, I got the ‘once over’ more than once as I followed the maître d’ to my table.
I was barely seated and had checked out the skyline view when the dull murmur of conversation and the clink of silverware suddenly silenced, and eyes turned towards the entrance of the restaurant. Mr. Snooty, himself, came parading through the restaurant, leading a tall glamorously striking African American woman, wearing a navy business suit, red-white-blue pinstripe blouse, accessorized with a touch of red on the pocket square, French cuffs, pumps, and hand clutch. The woman’s proud confident stride ignored the stares of the restaurant’s male patrons though I had little doubt that she relished the undivided attention she received as she was led towards me. As she reached the table, I heard a soft whistle from a far corner of the restaurant, and I sensed a fleeting scowl in her eyebrow but no other visible reaction.
“Gina, how are you? It’s a pleasure. I’m LaTonya Washington.” Shaking my hand, she added, “Welcome to Atlanta. I’m glad that you called and I appreciate the opportunity to talk.”
I could tell with this introduction she was taking a measure of me. We ordered a glass of wine and chatted briefly about my trip from Chicago, the weather, the growing Atlanta skyline, and the abominable traffic. By that time the murmur of conversation and tinkle of glasses and silverware had resumed. After placing our lunch order, I steered the conversation back to business.
“As you know, I’ve been retained by O’Rielly Electronics to look into the shooting of Sean O’Rielly,” I began. “Some of the circumstances occurring here in Atlanta, and at Macon plant relating to the acquisition, and,… er, the closure of Smith Electronics may be related to the shooting. I’m hoping that you can add some key perspectives to these events.”
“Certainly, I’d be happy to help in any way that I can. I’ve assembled some information about the employees you mentioned when scheduling our meeting. And I would like to add some insights about Sean O’Rielly.”
I glanced at the information. “Thank you, it looks very thorough. So, you’d like to provide some added information about Sean. When did you first meet him?”
She explained that she met Sean at an industry trade show; her initial conversations with him began as friendly competitors commiserating over the tough economy and brainstorming on ideas to cut costs and find new markets. She had given him her cell number, and they had exchanged several calls about meeting or workshop schedules. But, after a while, LaTonya said that the tone of Sean’s calls changed.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, for one thing, he began texting, rather than calling. And he would suggest that we go somewhere else, away from the meeting, somewhere more private.” LaTonya’s eyebrows rose to emphasize that last word. She shook her head when continuing as if trying to shed a bad memory. “When we would talk, he would slip in these,…these seemingly innocuous questions about my personal life. I kept bringing the discussion back to business issues, but he was persistent”
I probed for details. “You described Sean as persistent,…what would he say? What did he do?”
LaTonya looked out the window at the Atlanta skyline for a moment, as she organized her thoughts. “He was a real charmer, that inviting smile, those dimples, those blue eyes that seem to look right into your soul. We met at a cocktail hour late in the day. At first, I thought he was some salesman trying to pick me up, you know,…’what happens in ‘Frisco stays in ‘Frisco.’ He comes on so warm and inviting that you are just drawn in. And there’s these little comments, you know, innuendoes, that seem to have a double meaning.
“How so?” I asked.
“Like, ‘I can show you around, help you get ahead in the industry, there’s a special event in my room tonight, it’ll be a real career booster for you.’ Then he says he’s a former football player like I’m supposed to be impressed.” LaTonya glances over her shoulder and leans in lowering her voice so that it does not carry beyond the table.
“This is what he tells me like I’m some starlet from Podunk, and he’s going to give my career a real boost, …up on to his casting couch.” LaTonya’s voice now had an edge, more anger than emotion. “Come on! I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve heard better lines from better men, and they’ve all been shot down. This girl’s worked too hard and paid too much dues to hop onto some horny toad’s slimy ole casting couch.”
“He was down to the Smith Macon Plant at least three or four times during the acquisition talks and sale transition, holding a management meeting each time. He seemed to like to joke around. And some of those jokes were sexual, or there were these sexual innuendos. You know,…some people describe things using sports metaphors, ‘the ball’s in your court,’ or ‘you’re part of the team.’ But Sean would use sexual metaphors to emphasize a point. Talking about a joint venture, he’d say ‘we’re going to get in bed together,’ or when the competition landed an order that we sought, he said that we got screwed by the competition. When you made a mistake, he labeled it with the “F” word. When he wanted to build excitement about a new product launch, his expression was let’s get a ‘hard-on’ about this.”
“Did anybody say anything, anyone complain?”
“What can you say? Who can you complain to? He’s the guy that bought the company. You’re concerned about losing your job. The guys chuckled, the women just rolled their eyes and kept their mouths shut.” LaTonya hesitated a moment, and a subtle triumphant grin came to her face. She added, “But when he tried that on me, one-on-one, I gave him an eye to eye glare and told him to stop it. And then one time he tried it again, so I walked away and saying, ‘I’ll finish this conversation when you ready to speak civilly.’”
LaTonya was on a roll, as one memory seemed to spark another. “Another time, he thought he was being cute and his fingers went to my breast. In half a second, I had his thumb twisted backward so far that he fell back into his chair and rolled backward onto the floor. I walked out of the room and didn’t talk to him the rest of the time he was in Macon.
LaTonya sat back, crossed her arms, and nodded affirmatively. “He didn’t know where to draw the line, so I drew it for him. After that, he behaved when he talked to me.”
##
To the blog reader or podcast listener: For more insights on sexual or other forms of harassment, you are invited to check the Drawing a Line Blog or Podcast for other topics of interest. Thank you for your interest in the Drawing a Line blog and podcast.
Photo credit: Pexels cottonbro.
![When Does Sexual Joking or Teasing Become Sexual Harassment? [Survey Results] Blog #119 – 1/8/2024](https://drawingaline175408723.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/pexels-photo-942418.jpeg?w=825&h=510&crop=1)
Drawing a Line 