Chapter 12
I WAKE WITH a groan at the ring of the hotel phone on my nightstand.
The thick black-out curtains are so good at their job that it could easily have been mid-afternoon without me realizing, but unfortunately it’s Saturday morning and I’m a wreck.
After last night’s party, we spent most of the night out looking for Robin.
Matthew had spotted her, panicked and fleeing the event in tears.
Eyes closed, I grope around for the receiver, then put it up to my ear. Yes? My voice is hoarse—the combined result of drinking unicorn piss and last night’s events.
Miss De Haas?
I confirm with a grunt.
There’s a Miss Robin Verstraeten here to see you.
I jerk upright and flick on the little lamp on the bedside table.
She’d like to speak with you. Shall I send her up?
Uh, yes please, I reply, feeling much more awake after taking a few greedy gulps of water from the glass I keep by the bed. I hang up the phone, rush over to my closet, and quickly toss on a pair of jeans and a sweater before flinging open the curtains.
I’m nearly blinded by the daylight flooding in.
It’s a rare sunny day in London, but the city is still covered in a thick blanket of snow.
On the street below, I see people in thick winter coats and knitted hats weaving their way through the chaos of the city.
I put on my glasses and I’m twisting my curls into a thick bun when I hear a careful knock on my door.
I open it to find a completely dishevelled Robin standing in the hall.
This is my first time seeing her in anything other than a tailored suit, fancy dress, or feathered bird costume.
She’s wearing a basic pair of jeans paired with sneakers, a sweater, and an oversized jacket.
Her usually sleek hair now frames her face in a puff of frizzy curls.
Her eyes are so swollen from crying that I can barely see her blue irises and her neck is covered in splotches of red.
She fidgets with the hem of her jacket and seems relieved to see me standing in the doorway.
Her eyes flit across my face before she bursts into tears.
Oh Hannah, I’m so sorry, she sobs, tears rolling down her face and landing on her sweater.
Helpless, she drops her arms to her side.
I’m so sorry for leaving you alone with that vile man.
Please tell me he didn’t hurt you. I just panicked.
The only thought in my mind was getting away from Ronald as quickly as possible.
I gaze at the broken woman standing in front of me and swallow as I open the door a little wider. Would you like to come in for a bit? I ask her, gesturing at the room behind me.
Her eyes light up briefly and she nods, taking a look around as she walks into the room.
You got the honeymoon suite? She sounds surprised as she picks up a few of the rose petals still left on a table, crumbling them between her fingers.
Something went wrong with our reservation, I explain, pointing out a chair for her to sit in. I fetch her a glass of water before plopping down at the foot-end of the bed. It wobbles a little under my shifting weight.
What happened after I left? She asks after taking a sip. There’s a look of shame on her face and her eyes tell me she’s afraid to know the answer to that question.
Oh, not much. I just kneed Ronald in the nuts, I reply, rubbing my throbbing head. Oh, and then Val fired him on the spot.
Slowly, a glimmer of hope appears on her face, as if she’s not quite ready to fully let the emotion in. She swallows. Did he . . . touch you?
When I shake my head, she lets out a sigh of relief. A huge weight seems to lift from her shoulders.
You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, she says, bringing the glass to her lips and chugging it in one go, then smacking it down on the table.
How about I ask Val to join us? I gesture toward his room. He was quite worried about you last night. We couldn’t find you anywhere.
Robin hesitates, then nods.
Jesus, what an absolute mess, Val sighs, rubbing his face.
I don’t think he trimmed his beard this morning and he’s got puffy bags under his eyes.
I’m going to fix this, he says, looking at Robin with compassion in his eyes. And I’m going to make sure Ronald doesn’t go unpunished. Do you want to get the authorities involved?
Robin swallows, gives him a hesitant look, then lowers her eyes. I, um . . . I don’t know . . . Her voice is shaky as she tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve.
You have a witness to back you up. That’s a great place to start, he continues, nodding at me.
It’s more than just your word against his.
On Monday, I’m going to reach out to all his former assistants.
I want to know if there are any other victims. Matthew told me last night that he’s been suspicious of Ronald’s behaviour for some time.
I think back to what Ronald said to me last night. They’re usually a little more fearful. They. Plural. A shiver runs through my body.
Robin seems surprised at Val’s words. Her eyebrows pull up and she looks at him through wide eyes, like she’d expected him to push for a quiet resolution and talk her out of reporting the assault.
But . . . she says, hesitating before she continues. Do you have any idea what kind of PR nightmare you’d be walking into? If people found out there was a #MeToo case at your company?
His jaw tightens as he shifts in his seat.
When he speaks, his expression is serious.
Robin, someone on my Board of Directors assaulted women.
That means it happened on my watch. I refuse to tolerate or apologize for that kind of revolting behaviour.
My priority is the wellbeing of the women he harmed.
And I won’t allow him to continue to victimize more people.
He needs to face consequences beyond just being fired so he can be stopped from harming more women in the future.
That’s why—if you’re open to it, that is—I would love for you to report him to the police.
Seeing this level of genuine concern from Val warms my heart. I can’t imagine many CEOs would have the same response to this kind of situation.
Robin begins to nod as a tear rolls down her cheek. Okay . . . she finally says. I’ll do it. I’ll report him.
Val gives her an encouraging nod before running his hands through his hair, shaking his head in frustration. This is all such a mess. A predator and a traitor on one Board of Directors. I think it’s time to start outsourcing our recruiting process. I’ve obviously done a terrible job so far.
Biting her lip, Robin glances from me to Val and back again, an apologetic look on her face. Um . . . she begins, crossing one leg over the other and placing both hands on her knee.
I narrow my eyes and cock my head to one side. Robin’s eyes dart around, looking everywhere she possibly can while avoiding me or Val.
Robin? Val asks. It sounds like a cross between threat and caution—he’s clearly not sure which one is more appropriate at the moment. Is there something I need to know?
She swallows as her eyes go wide. I miiight have a few girlfriends who work in the marketing department at Winthrops. I also might have complained to them about Hannah’s idea after the board meeting last week.
Robin! Val yells. There’s an exasperated look on his face—I suppose he doesn’t feel like it’s appropriate to completely lose his shit at the moment. Under any other circumstances, she would have been toast right now.
She shrinks back, then throws her hands up defensively. I’m sorry! Hannah clearly watches too many Disney movies and I assumed they would agree.
Hey! I shout, outraged.
She shoots me an apologetic look. Sorry, she repeats, and she sounds sincere. I got it wrong, though. They loved your idea. Nobody understood why I didn’t back you up. And before I knew it, Winthrops set up that stupid wall and the whole thing was trending online.
Val and I exchange a frustrated glance. He inhales through his nose, out through his mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Okay. Well. Not your finest moment, Robin, he finally manages to say.
But it is what it is at this point. And at least I don’t have to worry about unmasking some kind of corporate traitor.
My main concern right now is to support you through the reporting process and get you all the care you need.
There’s a wonderful confidential advisor in our HR department who can advocate for you every step of the way.
By the end of the long conversation, Val has connected Robin with the advisor at Wouters, who will take over the process from here. They told us my witness statement will likely be recorded on Monday. So, for the time being, all I can really do is try to put the entire awful thing out of my mind.