I park, sit in the truck for a minute, and scroll through my notes. Dates, lies, the confession, the rooftop. Time to learn the rulebook. Inside, the office floors are quiet. No phones ringing, no fake laughs yet.
I take the elevator up to HR. The door to Sarah Johnson's office opens a crack. Lights on. She's already there, like always. I knock lightly.
"Got a minute?"
She looks up from her screen over her glasses. Late 40s, sharp eyes, zero tolerance for nonsense. "David, right? From service?"
"That's me," I say. "I had a couple questions about company policy. I want to understand where the lines are."
Her expression shifts to curious caution. "Come in. Close the door."
I sit, hands relaxed on my knees. No twitching. No defensiveness. "So," I start like I'm just a guy who reads the handbook for fun, "hypothetical. How does the company handle it if a manager uses their position to pursue people connected to employees, like wives, girlfriends, stuff that crosses personal and professional at the same time?"
Her eyes sharpen. She leans back. "We take abuse of authority very seriously," she says. "If a manager leverages their role for sexual access or to intimidate or manipulate employees or their families, that's misconduct, potentially harassment."
"We investigate written reports, evidence, witnesses. If it's substantiated, it can mean termination, loss of bonuses, benefits. Sometimes it escalates further."
I nod slowly, like this is all new to me. "So a written report is step one."
"Yes. Details matter. Dates, direct quotes, what was said, where it was said. The more specific, the better."
She studies me. "Any reason you're asking?"
"Honestly?" I give her a small, tired smile. "I've just seen enough in blue-collar places where lines get blurred. I wanted to know where this company stands."
She relaxes a fraction. "We stand firmly against harassment or abuse of power. Remember that."
"I will," I say. "Thanks, Sarah. That's helpful."
I walk out with my hands empty, but my head loaded. Abuse of authority. Sexual harassment. Written report. Evidence.
Termination. Loss of benefits. Those aren't just words. They're tools. Back in the shop, work moves like always.
Oil, metal, noise. But I'm already in the next phase. Around lunch, I catch Derek near the break room, leaning on the counter, talking big to a couple of guys from sales. "Boss," I say. "Got a second?"
He waves the others off, enjoying the title. "What's up, Miller? Are we good?"
I keep my face neutral. "All good. Just wanted to ask. Still doing that quarterly rooftop thing? The big one for the end of the quarter?"
"Of course," he says. "Next Friday night, same spot. Why?"