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This fic is in response to an anon prompt I received on Tumblr. My prompt phase, I thought, was over, but I was so pleased someone sent this in! Enjoy!
“So Mr. Kennedy—he—” Marlene made a display of squinting her eyes at the words before her to buy time, “he—made advances toward you.”
“Correct,” Jess replied.
“On the 25th—”
“That was the most recent instance, yes.”
“But what were the nature of these advances?”
“Well, he—”
“Did he touch you?”
“He did, yes.”
“Where?”
Jess hesitated as her breath caught in her throat, “um, my back. The small of my back.”
“Your back?” Marlene was unimpressed. Her mouth drew into a thin line. Thinner than usual.
“He’s always—finding excuses? To touch me,” Jess continued, now wondering, “always finding ways to be alone. He never does it in front of anyone—”
“So Mr. Roy—the younger—doesn’t know?”
Jess was caught off guard. Why should she tell Kendall something that had nothing to do with him? She wanted this settled—with as few people knowing as possible. To make it disappear.
“No.”
“No one knows? But me?”
“No. No one.”
“So he made physical contact with you,” Marlene shut the folder in a valedictory fashion, threw the pen on top of it, removed her reading glasses, “a few times. Flirted a little, you said?”
Jess nodded, feeling it coming. Waystar Royco Human Resources was like a front for another operation—she should’ve known by now.
“You know, Ray and I went to Georgetown together—did you know that?”
“I—no. I didn’t know that.” Jess inhaled and let the breath leave her as steadily as she could manage.
“I’ve known him for over twenty years,” Marlene continued, now leaning back in her chair, managing a pinched smile, “Perhaps you’ve misinterpreted his friendly manner? Ray is quite gregarious. Always making people feel welcome. Loves giving out hugs—that type. He and Jeanine have a lovely home up in Greenwich. Have you been? To the barbecues?”
“No.”
“They’re really great. Luaus and such,” Marlene paused for a moment, “—and--he’s set to receive an award from the American Marketing Association at the gala in November.”
Jess was silent.
“This…type of thing would really hurt him. And Jeanine,” Marlene was pointed now, letting her gaze harden.
Jess stared back.
“I think it’s best that you take time to think about officially filing this complaint.”
Jess opened her mouth the protest, but that was as far as she got.
“Thanks so much for coming in today,” Marlene rose and gestured toward the door.
In a haze, Jess got up and hurried out of her office. She made her way back to her desk, but she felt like she’d lost time. Kendall had emerged from his office; the virtual meeting he’d had ended early.
“Hey, so I’m thinking lunch from One White Street,” he drummed his fingers against the top of the partition that encased her desk on three sides.
Jess nodded, trying her best to not look ashen. The sick feeling she’d carried with her—the feeling she’d hoped would dissipate after reporting Ray’s harassment—had intensified. She felt nauseous.
“OK,” she nodded again, avoiding his eyes, “I can put the order in now—the usual?”
“Yeah—” Kendall turned back toward his office, but something forced him to turn around again, “but—no, let’s go with the sea bass. And if they could add arugula—”
“OK. Sure.”
He clocked her hands. They were shaking—trembling—as she grabbed her phone to place the food order. Kendall watched her. Jess grabbed her bag and straightened a few items on her desk.
“I’ll go down now and pick it up—” she said, headed toward the elevator bank.
“I’ll go with you,” Kendall caught up with her.
“Oh—but the quarterly meeting is—”
He shrugged, “yeah—I already know the numbers are down. Frank can give me the cliffs notes.”
“Oh—sure.”
The elevator ride was silent. Jess stared straight ahead while Kendall tried to gauge her from his periphery. A few times he tried to spark a conversation but couldn’t think of anything worthy to say. He found he felt that way a lot around her when small talk was an option.
“Fikret is—”
“Let’s walk,” he said.
“Walk?”
The idea was not foreign to Jess, but she’d never shared the sidewalk with Kendall. They never walked anywhere.
“It’s—October,” he said, “it’s sunny, brisk. It’s autumn in New York.”
“S—sure.”
They walked. Again, silent. Jess’ mind started to go in circles. What had happened—had Marlene texted Kendall? Was she going to be reprimanded?
Kendall meanwhile was anxious. He couldn’t sidestep any longer.
“So—you—I know you had a meeting,” he said, “this morning.”
Jess’ heart began to race. Her cheeks felt warm. The sunshine was too hot for fall. It felt like August. And the Financial District smelled like it, too. She felt like she wanted to pass out. Not had to, but wanted to—to escape.
“Listen, if you’re interviewing,” he stuttered, “I’d—I’d need to know—”
“Interviewing?”
“Yeah—for the position—under Karolina?”
“Uh—”
“Hey—I—I would love for you to have it—you’d deserve it—but,” Kendall laughed a little, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk in front of City Hall, “you’d be breaking my heart a little here.”
Jess stopped and turned to face him directly, “I—it wasn’t an interview.”
“No?” Kendall looked surprised, then laughed it off, “oh well that’s a huge fucking relief.”
Jess couldn’t breathe for a moment as she decided to tell him, “the—the meeting was with HR.”
Kendall snapped to attention and wrapped his arms around himself, bracing. HR was never good. Not in the C-Suite. “Oh—oh, um, OK.”
Jess’ brow—the furrowed shape it took—her eyes, wide, pleading—scared—sent a shock through him. Could he see the well of tears?
“What—what is it?” He wracked his brain for something he’d done.
Jess exhaled an unsteady breath, “I filed a harassment complaint. Or—tried to.”
“Tried—”
“Marlene told me to think it over because—because I’d hurt his reputation.”
“Who.”
“Ken, I—I don’t want—”
Kendall shifted his weight and reached out to her, retracting his hand right before it grazed her forearm. Not now.
“Jess, I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to,” his voice was soft but clear, “I don’t. It’s up to you. But I—I can help you.”
“No—no, I don’t need—”
“Who is it, Jess?”
She took a moment as Kendall pleaded again. “Ray Kennedy.”
“R—Ray? Are you fucking serious?” Kendall’s voice got louder before he remembered himself, “that fucking shitbag. He just—”
“Please—I think it’s best if we just leave it,” Jess moved to keep walking, to stay on course, to do a simple task like picking up lunch. And she’d instantly regretted telling him.
“No, I can help—”
“Please,” Jess was firm, “please, Kendall.”
The way she’d said his name. A word she’d uttered countless times a day—every day. But now—
But Kendall stewed with the information. For days, he glared at Ray from across conference room tables, across the office. In the lobby. At a charity event.
He remembered Jess. Her pleading eyes, the way she’d said his name. He felt that the fucked system at Waystar had failed her. The virus that had infected other areas of the corporation was now threatening his own employee. His friend.
It had been a full two weeks from when Jess had told him. He was coming back from a meeting in his father’s office to his when he saw them. Ray had parked himself by Jess’ desk, hovering over her; his physical presence made it impossible for her to escape. But from the outside, he was friendly, jovial, even. No one around thought any differently—or didn’t want to see anything should it happen.
Kendall straightened, breezed past them en route to his office, “Jess—I need five.”
“Of course,” Jess popped up and slid by Ray, who then quickly made himself scarce.
“Is—Is he—” Kendall whispered to her—his tone conspiratorial—“was he bothering you?”
“Um—”
“Because I could—”
“No, no.”
“OK.”
Jess was puzzled; was Kendall just now realizing what she had to deal with on a regular basis? Not just in the office but—in life? On the street? The harassment on the subway platforms? Kendall didn’t usually consider subway platforms. So. No.
So as Kendall Roy was experiencing his own Baader–Meinhof phenomenon regarding the perception of Jess and overall rampant misogyny and broad dehumanization ideals towards women across Western society, she waited patiently for what he had to say.
“You needed five…?” She prodded again.
“Oh—that’s all.”
“That—that’s it—”
“Yeah—fuck, I mean,” Kendall passed his hand across his forehead, “I mean, he’s fucking trash—”
“Well—”
“I mean, I always knew,” Kendall shrugged and seemed to be talking to himself now, “but, you know, like, theoretically. But he’s—he’s going after—”
Jess inhaled.
“—you,” Kendall finished, “you.”
Jess wanted to congratulate him on finally joining the #metoo party, but she bit her tongue.
“I—” Kendall turned toward the window a bit, surveying the view uptown. Whatever he was going to say had vanished.
“Well…” Jess cut into the silence, “just a reminder—we have that event at the Natural History Museum tonight.”
“What time?”
“It’s at six.”
Kendall pulled himself away from his thoughts, “right. Call Fikret at, say, 5:15? My suit is ready?”
Jess nodded, but her eyes held his, waiting for more; she knew Ray would be attending. But Kendall said nothing. So much had always been left in silence.
But for the rest of the afternoon, Kendall couldn’t take his mind off of what Jess had gone through. She had always been the one to rescue him, to make things right—to keep him where he needed to go. And even if it had always been a part of her job description, he’d always felt a tinge of shame. Helpless.
But now—now, he could prove himself. He was quiet as they headed down to the street to the car. The silent elevator ride was punctured by a stop at the seventh floor. Kendall felt Jess retreat into the corner as he lifted his eyes from his phone to see who was coming aboard.
Ray entered, chatting with Tom. Greg slipped in right before the doors closed. All were in tuxes.
Ray gave a sharp glance toward Jess, up and down. He surveyed the dress she’d changed into for the night, raised his eyebrows at her as if to give approval. Somehow, she knew Marlene had talked to him. Her face grew hot.
Kendall fumed at the sight.
“So it’s Greg’s first time to the Museum of Natural History,” Tom commented in a robust voice, “can you believe it?”
“Wow—Greggo—where have you been, dude?” Ray smacked Greg in the arm.
“Um, well my mom and I lived in the Bay Area, so—”
“I mean, everyone’s been to the Natural History Museum, Greg,” Tom scoffed, “what—the closest you’ve ever come is watching Night at the Museum?”
Ray laughed.
“You read The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler?” Tom continued.
“Actually, that takes place at the Met,” Jess said from her spot in the corner.
“Uh—” Tom glanced at Kendall for back up, “no, I think—”
“No, Jess is right,” Greg said, “it’s one of my favorite books though, Tom. How did you know?”
Tom was derailed, “I didn’t.”
Sensing Kendall about to speak, Jess turned to him, “so you have your prepared words here—” she handed him four notecards “—and I’m going to airdrop the list of speakers to your phone.”
The elevator dinged and let the group out at the lobby.
“See you over there, Ken!” Tom called to Kendall as he, Greg and Ray clambered into their Escalade. Ray took a moment to wave as well.
“Hey—Tom!” Kendall called to him; Tom immediately ran back over.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Ray—you’re hanging out with Ray?”
“I mean—he—he got on the elevator—so—I mean, not really. Not regularly. Not penciled into the social calendar.”
“Guy’s a dickwad.”
“Oh yeah—he’s—he’s awful.”
“Lots of skeletons there—wouldn’t hitch your wagon to that.”
“Uh-huh. Right. Understood.”
Kendall’s anger simmered as they sat in the car in Midtown traffic. Jess had grown confident that he wouldn’t say anything. Or maybe she’d just wished it.
The gala itself was the same as all the others. Dimly lit, the whale room provided dark corners for New York’s power brokers to connect and discuss. Jess stood by the bottom of the stairs, scrolling her phone for the Nikkei opening numbers.
“Hey—”
Jess looked up and a chill went up her spine as she came face to face with him.
“You think you’re cute?” he asked.
Jess froze. He was doing this here—now—
“Yeah, you’re so fucking cute,” Ray whispered, “Marlene—she told me everything. How you wanted to frame me. How you have a vendetta. Listen--if you ever try that again, you’ll regret you ever said anything.”
The corners of Jess’ mouth sunk into a frown. She held his gaze, “fuck you.”
“Oh yeah? Fuck me? You would fucking love it. You’d fucking beg—”
“Ray,” Kendall appeared from thin air and his hand formed a vise around Ray’s arm, “hey man—”
Kendall kept his body language friendly. From afar no one would ever suspect anything amiss.
“Hey—Ken—I was just—”
“—Just what?” Kendall squeezed Ray’s arm now, tightening ever so steadily as his smile grew.
“—making conversation—”
“Oh is that what we’re calling threats now?” Kendall pulled him away from Jess, “because listen, fuckface, if you ever speak to her again—ever so much as look at her again—”
“Ken, listen—”
“I will—” Kendall hadn’t thought it out, “I will make you rue the fucking day you took this job, dickshine.”
Dickshine. Jess thought. Ken had been saving that one.
“OK—”
“Got it?” Kendall pulled him close; the body language façade was gone now.
“Yeah—yeah—” Ray had begun to quiver. It hadn’t taken much.
“Apologize.” Kendall was quiet.
“Um—”
“Apologize to Jess for your appalling behavior.”
“Oh—”
“Apologize.” Was Kendall shaking? Jess couldn’t tell in the semi-darkness.
“I’m—I’m sorry. Jess.”
“And tell her you’ll never speak to her.”
“I’ll never speak to you.”
“And tell her you’ll never look at her.”
“I’ll never look at you.”
“Now fuck off.” Kendall released him.
Ray scampered away. Jess watched as he tried to get back in with Tom and Greg. But Tom, as cliquey as ever, was quick to close ranks, leaving Ray out to fend for himself. His social capital had plummeted. Enlisting Tom to cold shoulder him would prove to hurt more than anything else.
“I know you didn’t ask me,” Kendall turned to Jess, “and you didn’t want me to do that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s—it’s OK.”
“But—our company—it’s,” Kendall tread carefully, “it’s lawless. It’s a fucking shame that I should even have to advocate…But sometimes—”
“It’s fine. I—I appreciate it. I do.” Jess stopped him before he could declare himself a vigilante in her name.
Kendall paused, studying her. “If something happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
The words came just shy of knocking her flat on the floor, “oh—”
“I mean,” Kendall readjusted, “yeah. I don’t know what I’d do. I—can’t even consider it.”
Jess smiled, in spite of herself. “That means a lot to me.”
“It does?”
Jess nodded, “of course.”