A Symptom of Love (GERI Labs #1)

29. Confessions

29

Confessions

E leanor walks down the hall to the one person who usually has all the answers when it comes to… hmmmm… the well-being of colleagues at GERI. The controller of all info, also known as Mrs. Tara Jones. And right now, that’s exactly what Eleanor is after.

“Good morning,” Eleanor says quietly as she enters the room.

“Eleanor!” Tara lifts her eyes from her computer and offers a smile. It’s warm, yes, but laced with a great degree of something else. Concern? Apprehension? Pity? “How are you, darling?”

“Had better days.” Eleanor tries to bend her lips upward, but it feels more like a flinch. “Do you know where Professor Kowalski is?”

“Oh,” she says. “He’s with HR, there’s an internal investigation.”

“An investigation?” This thing is spinning out of control so quickly. And Eleanor is reeling.

“There are rumors, darling. I… It’s really none of my business, but there is quite some talk about you two.”

“It’s all my fault,” is the only thing Eleanor manages to say. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…”

“Where, Tara? Please.”

“They’re on the sixth floor, conference room,” she sighs. “You didn’t hear it from me, you just happened to be there—“

“Thanks!” Eleanor calls as she sprints out of the office and up the stairs, frantically running through the sixth-floor corridor, a place she’s never been to before, searching for a conference room. This is an issue on its own, seeing as the sixth floor is mostly composed of conference rooms.

Eleanor is already breathless when she finally finds it. She can only see shoes, thanks to the painted glass walls that hide who’s wearing them, but she is almost certain those are Aiden’s shoes. She opens the door and jumps in. There are three suit-clad, serious-looking people, two women and one man, all sitting on one side of the long mahogany table. Aiden is sitting across from them, looking… resigned. Like he’s lost all sense of hope. Every single ounce of it.

All eyes turn to her, surprised. “It’s all my fault,” she says, almost wheezing, keeling over, hands on her knees, trying to reorganize that complex inhale-exhale process. She should really go back to exercising regularly. Although at the moment she suspects it’s not just the frantic running up the stairs and through the hallways. It’s seeing Aiden like this. It sucks all the air out of her. It crushes her heart, and she can’t breathe.

“Who are you?” the man asks in a not-very-patient tone.

“Eleanor, Eleanor Benjamin,” she says. One of the women looks down into her notes, a sign of recognition briefly crossing her face. “Please hear me out before you—“

“Dr. Benjamin.” The woman holds out a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “We are planning to hear all sides. Please, if you could wait outside for your scheduled time.” And when she notices what must be a confused look on Eleanor’s face she adds, “Please take a look in your email, it’s all there.”

Email? Who has time for emails in the middle of—

“Now, if you could please step outside.” She gestures toward the door.

Eleanor’s eyes turn to Aiden, but he won’t even look at her. Slumped, she turns and steps outside the room, closing the door behind her. She takes a sit on one of the chairs in the hallway and opens the Outlook app on her phone.

And yes, it’s all there. The poker face woman was not lying. Her eyes skim through the never-ending document. Her vision blurred. Investigation. Possible misconduct. Position of power. Suspected sexual harassment in the workplace.

Fucking hell.

“We will see you now, Dr. Benjamin.” The woman from earlier appears beside her, clutching a notepad. Aiden walks out of the room. Their eyes meet for a brief second. He looks… broken. Hurt. Hopeless. And she’s the one to blame for it all.

“Aiden.” She jumps to her feet, trying to reach out to him, but is blocked by that notepad-clutching woman.

“Professor Kowalski was advised against making any contact with you until the investigation is complete,” she explains in a firm tone. “And we expect that you do the same. It’s all in the email,” she says, pointing at the little cellular device in Eleanor’s hand. Yes, the one that still has her and Aiden’s selfie on its lock screen. And home screen.

This is ridiculous, it will take her a whole week to read this long email.

“Now if you could follow me, please,” she says once Aiden is out of sight. She ushers Eleanor into the conference room and to the same seat Aiden was just occupying. It still has some of his body heat.

They introduce themselves briefly; they’re GERI employees, from somewhere in the depths of HR, but Eleanor is too shaken to register any information at this point.

“Please state your name and your GERI ID number,” the man says, and Eleanor does as asked.

“I just want to make it clear,” he says. “You are not under investigation, but it would be helpful if you could share as much information as you can with us, as honestly and objectively as possible, to help us make our assessment.” He pauses to make sure she follows. “And we will try to keep it confidential, but depending on the information, there may be parts we would need to act on or report. However, we will do our best to keep your name confidential.”

“Okay.” Eleanor takes a deep breath. “I’ll tell you everything, just please, you have to understand, Aiden… er… Professor Kowalski didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Let’s go about it in a more organized fashion, shall we?” the woman from earlier says. Eleanor nods.

“Could you please tell us about the nature of your relationship with Professor Kowalski?” The man asks.

Wow, jumping straight into the deep. Where would she even start?

“Starting with how you two met,” the other woman says, as if reading her mind.

“We actually met at an airport in Spain. I was on my way here for the first time. He was coming back from a scientific conference, but at the time I didn’t know who he was. I was running to catch the last charging station because my laptop was dying. And I tripped, almost landed flat on my face and he caught me.”

“He?”

“Aiden. Professor Kowalski. And my nose started bleeding, and he helped stop the bleeding and gave me a band-aid for a cut on my knee. And made sure I was okay.” She stops for a breather, realizing she’s talking way too fast. Hebrew words are mixing into her sentences. She’s in some sort of an unfamiliar anxiety mode. “And then he let me text my mom from his phone because I lost my phone. Our flight was being delayed and I didn’t want her to worry.” A small smile creeps up into her face as she recalls those moments. The look on Aiden’s face when she asked him to download WhatsApp and a Hebrew keyboard. “And then we ended up sitting next to each other on the plane to the US. I was cold, and he gave me his hoodie, and he let me cuddle into him when I wanted to sleep. And he let me hold him close when we said goodbye because I really needed a welcome hug.”

“And at that point, you knew who he was?”

“I still had no idea. I didn’t even know he was a scientist; I thought he was a drummer. And he didn’t know who I was either. I never told him my last name, not even my full first name, I just said Ellie—only my closest friends and family call me that. And he introduced himself as Aiden, which is actually his middle name, but the people who are closest to him call him that.”

“I’m sure you’d done extensive research about GERI and your future mentors and collaborators before you came here, had interviews, but you didn’t recognize him?” the second woman asks.

“Well, GERI had ‘no visitor’ policy then, so a face-to-face interview and a prep visit were not approved. Professor Harrington—my sponsor—he’s great, but he’s kind of old school. He doesn’t do all those video conference stuff, so we all stuck to emails. And I read every single one of his and Professor Kowalski’s papers, but I never actually… looked up their images.”

“How come?” the first woman asks, surprised.

“I was blown away by their research, their discoveries, their publications. Why would I care about how they looked?”

“Well, could have saved you some trouble,” the second woman says quietly and receives an admonishing look from the one with the notepad.

“Perhaps,” Eleanor says because this is probably true and would have been the responsible thing to do. But she doubts it would have changed the way she feels about Aiden. This thing—it’s strong enough to overcome any mindset. Heck, it’s stronger than anything she’s ever felt before.

“And when did you find out he’s your boss?”

“He’s not really my boss, he’s my collaborator. My boss is Professor Harrington.”

“Yes, yes,” the woman with the notepad says. “But you do partly work in his lab and report results to him.”

“I work in his lab when I need the instrumentation he has, and discuss the results with him, but it’s part of our collaboration,” Eleanor tries to clarify. Gosh, they’re making it sound bad. “And as I said, I didn’t even know he was a scientist. I came here around Christmas and couldn’t get into GERI until after New Year’s. So, I had a whole week to find something to do and get settled. And Aiden was the only person I knew in the area. Actually, in the entire country. And I was kind of leaning on him for help. And we got close.”

“How close?”

“Emotionally and physically.”

“Did he press you to do anything you didn’t want to?” the second woman asks.

“Gosh, no! If anything, I was the one pressing him. He was looking for a serious relationship and I wasn’t, yet I couldn’t keep my hands off him.”

The man clears his throat. “So how did you finally find out who he was?”

“On my first day at GERI, I came to meet Professor Kowalski in his office, and that’s when we both found out. We were both shocked. And then Aiden made rules—he wanted to keep our relationship on a professional level. Even though there isn’t any rule at GERI that would not allow us to get romantically involved.”

“That’s correct, since you are a postdoc, and technically he’s not your sponsor or mentor,” the woman says.

“Exactly. So why is there even an investigation?”

“It’s more about the optics,” the woman says. “The perception. I’m sure you are aware of the information that has been very publicly spread through social media. Therefore, we have to investigate.”

Uh-oh…

“So, from that point on, you both decided to keep it strictly professional?”

“Well, he did. And that’s why I said it was all my fault. If you are considering blaming anyone for sexual harassment, I would be the one to blame.”

“It’s very often that victims feel guilt—“ the second woman starts to say.

“No,” Eleanor interrupts. “You have it all wrong. I kept pushing him and provoking him. Rubbing against him at any chance I got, making sexual comments, trying to kiss him. He was really putting up a good fight, tried to resist.”

The three people in front of her exchange looks. The woman with the notepad is battling a smile. The man scratches his head and clears his throat again.

“So, would you say, whatever happened between you was consensual?”

“Very consensual, very much desired.”

“Does that include this scene as well?” The woman picks up a printed paper and hands it over to Eleanor.

It’s a photo of her and Aiden, dancing, passionately kissing. She’s wearing Alannah’s black dress, arms wrapped around Aiden’s neck, fingers digging into his hair, their bodies tight together—exactly the way she likes it. This could easily be any occasion during that party Oren and Tiffany talked them into during their heated San Diego fake-relationship adventure. And despite still being mad at Aiden, Eleanor has to fan herself—because this is some HOT stuff.

“Where did you get this from?” is what she needs to know. Because she doesn’t recall being photographed, and Aiden clearly looks as busy as she does.

“From the same post. Please answer the question,” the woman says. “Was this consensual?”

So that’s the second photo Gillie was mentioning…

“Very much so.” This makes her blush. “Although we have more appropriate photos than this one.” She takes out her phone and flashes their airplane selfie at them. “But this,” she points back to the photo on the table, “this was a private moment. An intimate thing that shouldn’t have been photographed. You can’t use this against him.”

“It looks like a night club, not very private,” says the first woman, “but we also have an entire footage of the GERI surveillance camera, starring the two of you—” She clears her throat. “Playing in the snow after hours. On GERI grounds.”

Eleanor has to challenge that. “Is playing in the snow against the GERI rules?” Questioning everything is an important quality in a scientist.

“This is not the kind of activity we wish our professors would engage in,” she responds.

“Friendly snow fight team building activity?” Eleanor tries.

“Friendly might not be the most accurate description.” The woman clears her throat again. “Would you like to watch the footage, Dr. Benjamin?”

Coming to think of it, she does recall some close proximity snow rolling and limb tangling. “I’m good,” she answers. “But just so you know, the snow fight was totally on me. And the fact that rumors about us went out into the dark world of social media, that’s my fault too. My ex-boyfriend is kind of famous and we ran into him.”

“This guy?” The woman pulls out another photo. The one of her and Oren.

Shit. They have that one too. What are the chances they skipped the opportunity to show it to Aiden? Probably close to none. Is it legal to use torture in HR investigations?

“Yes, his name is Oren Hason, but this is a very old photo. I am not seeing him anymore, not since we broke up five years ago. And I certainly have not engaged in kissing him or doing anything else with him since. And I am sure he would corroborate the story if I knew how to contact him…”

“That wouldn’t be necessary,” the man says. “At least not for our investigation. But maybe would be helpful information for Professor Kowalski.”

“Did he say something about it? How did he react when he saw it? Was he okay?” Eleanor can’t help the questions coming out of her mouth. The three HR members exchange looks again.

“We are not allowed to discuss these kinds of details with you. The same way we would not discuss anything you say with Professor Kowalski,” the woman says as she puts the photos back into a folder.

“Would you say your behavior around Professor Kowalski has granted you any special treatment, any benefits or favoritism in his lab or with anything that involves your professional life?”

“My behavior?”

“Sexual favors.” The man coughs.

“Oh, come on, these were not sexual favors, it’s a two-sided relationship. A relationship that involved lust and love, like any good relationship should.” Eleanor is a bit surprised hearing the ‘L’ and ‘R’ words coming out of her mouth, and both in one sentence. She’s even more surprised that it feels so natural to just come out and say it. “But to answer your question—no, it did not grant me any special treatment, or benefits or favoritism outside of our personal life. When it came to science, he judged my work as harshly as he did anyone else’s. He takes these things very seriously. He’s a good mentor, a touch too serious sometimes, but cares a lot about his students’ success.”

“We need to understand if it was a pattern,” the second woman says.

“A pattern? Are you suggesting there were others?”

‘There’s no one, just you. You’re everything.’ Drunk Aiden’s words flood Eleanor’s memory.

“A pattern? No, no way.” There’s not a doubt in her mind, of that she’s sure.

“A one-off then?” the woman asks.

“No, not a one-off either,” Eleanor responds with certainty. All of their moments together all come barging into her mind like a hurricane. “More like a once in a lifetime.”

Why has it taken her so long to understand?

“Would you say it made your life here at GERI harder?” the second woman asks.

“That’s leading, Dr. Benjamin, please disregard the question,” the man jumps in.

Eleanor considers it for a moment. “I’d like to answer that,” she says. “These past few months since coming to GERI, since meeting Aiden—I’ve actually had the best time of my life.” Saying it out loud makes so many things click into place at once. It feels exhilarating. “My only remorse is that it’s gotten him into trouble. It was never my intention.”

The HR crew nods in unison, finally done with their line of questions. They do, however, walk her through some excruciating guidance on how to interact with the press, with social media comments and questions from colleagues, before they lead her out of the room and let her go back to her life. And despite numerous reminders to avoid making contact with Aiden until things are settled, she runs back into the lab and into his office. But he’s not there. Again. And a quick check with Tara Jones drains the last bit of hope and courage out of her.

“Professor Kowalski was asked to go on leave for a while,” Tara says gently, resting a hand on Eleanor’s shoulder. “Until this whole jumble clears up.”