Chapter 2 - THE FOURTEEN RECEIPTS
“We need your money!”
Grant's words hung over the Christmas tree like something ugly that couldn't be taken back.
His twins stopped opening presents.
Heather lowered her tablet.
My mother stared at my brother as though he had accidentally revealed a family secret.
I looked at him.
“Then perhaps,” I said, “you should have thought about that before humiliating my daughter.”
Grant's face darkened.
“Oh, come on, Elise. It was a joke.”
“Lucy didn't laugh.”
“She's eight. Kids are sensitive.”
“Then maybe adults should be careful what they say to them.”
Lucy stood beside me, holding the crushed puzzle against her chest.
“Mom, can we go home?”
That settled everything.
I took her coat from the hallway closet.
Behind me, Mom made a noise of disapproval.
“Elise, don't make Christmas about yourself.”
I turned.
“I'm making it about my daughter. Apparently, someone has to.”
Mom's expression hardened.
“Your father would be ashamed of you.”
For thirty-six months, those words had been my leash.
Whenever I questioned another mortgage payment, another emergency, another favor for Grant, someone reminded me what Dad would have wanted.
But Dad had never asked me to let anyone hurt Lucy.
“Don't use him against me anymore,” I said.
Grant laughed bitterly.
“You think you're so important because you own that company.”
“I think employees should earn their salaries.”
His smile disappeared.
That was when I reached into my purse.
I took out a folded copy of the email my controller, Margaret Ellis, had sent me Friday afternoon.
Fourteen receipts.
Fourteen purchases charged to my company's operating account over the previous six weeks.
A luxury watch.
Designer clothing.
Restaurant bills.
Electronics.
And two bicycles from an upscale sporting goods store.
I laid the pages on the coffee table.
“Would you like to explain these?”
Grant looked down.
For the first time that morning, he appeared genuinely afraid.
Heather leaned forward.
“What are those?”
“Company expenses,” I answered.
Grant snatched up the pages.
“You went through my purchases?”
“They're not your purchases. They're purchases made using company money.”
“I manage operations. Sometimes I entertain clients.”
“Which client needed a forty-eight-hundred-dollar watch?”
His eyes moved toward his wrist.
The same watch he had been admiring all morning.
Mom stepped between us.
“Surely this can wait.”
“No.”
“Elise, your brother has been under tremendous pressure.”
“So have the people whose paychecks depend on my company.”
Grant crumpled one of the pages.
“Margaret doesn't understand how business works.”
“She understands receipts.”
“Those expenses were authorized.”
“By whom?”
He hesitated.
Then he looked at Mom.
She looked away.
Something cold moved through me.
“Mom?”
Diane straightened the pearl earrings I'd given her the previous Christmas.
“Grant told me some expenses were part of his compensation.”
“Did you authorize company spending?”
“Of course not. But I told him you wouldn't mind helping his family.”
I stared at her.
“You told him I wouldn't mind?”
“Your brother has children.”
“So do I.”
“His circumstances are different.”
“Because he needs designer bicycles?”
Grant slammed the receipts onto the table.
“Stop pretending you don't understand. You make more money than I do.”
“I also own the business, carry the debt, and work sixty-hour weeks.”
“You've always enjoyed making me feel small.”
That surprised me.
Not because it was true.
Because he sounded as though he believed it.
I remembered Grant at nineteen, standing outside Dad's garage after failing his first college semester.
Dad had put an arm around his shoulders.
“Your sister has her strengths. You'll find yours.”
Grant had watched me through the garage window.
I hadn't understood the look on his face then.
I did now.
Heather finally spoke.
“Grant, you said those gifts came from your bonus.”
He didn't answer.
Her expression changed.
“You said Elise gave you a Christmas bonus.”
“I said there was money available.”
“You told me she approved it.”
The twins were watching.
I hated that they were witnessing this.
“Lucy,” I said softly, “would you take your cousins into the kitchen for some cookies?”
My daughter looked at me.
Then she looked at the twins.
“Come on. Grandma has the chocolate ones.”
They followed her without arguing.
For one brief second, I was proud of the kindness my family had failed to extinguish.
Then Grant said something that brought me back.
“You can't fire me.”
“I haven't said anything about firing you.”
“But you're thinking it.”
“I'm thinking about protecting my business.”
He folded his arms.
“Good luck. You don't even know half the systems I handle.”
I studied him.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I'm telling you the truth.”
He stepped closer.
“Who negotiates your warehouse contracts? Who manages vendor relationships? Who knows which suppliers will walk if I leave?”
“I built those relationships before I hired you.”
“Things change.”
There was something calculated in his voice.
I decided not to argue further.
“Effective immediately, you're on paid administrative leave while Margaret and an outside accountant review the charges.”
Mom gasped.
“On Christmas?”
“It's a business decision.”
“You're destroying your brother!”
“No, Mom. I'm examining what he did with my money.”
Grant's jaw tightened.
“You'll regret this.”
I picked up my gift bag.
“No,” I said. “I regret waiting so long.”
Lucy appeared from the kitchen.
“Ready, Mom?”
I helped her into her little blue coat.
As we reached the front door, Mom followed us.
“Elise.”
I stopped.
Her voice softened.
“Your father didn't want this family divided.”
I looked at the framed photograph above the hallway table.
Dad stood between Grant and me at my college graduation, smiling proudly.
He had his hand on my shoulder.
I remembered how heavy and reassuring that hand had felt.
“Neither do I,” I said. “But I won't buy peace anymore.”
Mom's eyes filled.
For an instant, she looked old and frightened.
Then she whispered, “You don't understand what your father promised.”
I frowned.
“What promise?”
She glanced toward the living room.
“Nothing. Forget I said that.”
But I couldn't forget it.
Not after everything that had happened.
Lucy and I drove home through quiet streets lined with Christmas lights.
Halfway there, she spoke.
“Mom?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Did Uncle Grant get in trouble because of my puzzle?”
I pulled into a parking lot.
Then I turned toward her.
“No, baby. Uncle Grant is responsible for his own choices.”
She looked down.
“I didn't mean to ruin Christmas.”
“You didn't.”
“But everybody was mad.”
I reached across the console and squeezed her hand.
“Sometimes people get angry when someone finally says something isn't okay.”
Lucy considered that.
Then she whispered, “Can we still do our puzzle?”
“Absolutely.”
At home, we made hot chocolate.
We spread the damaged puzzle across the kitchen table.
It showed a beautiful underwater scene, with dolphins, coral, and a little sea turtle.
Lucy found the corner pieces.
I made a border.
For the first time all day, the house felt peaceful.
Then my phone buzzed.
Margaret.
I answered from the kitchen doorway.
“Merry Christmas,” she said quietly. “I'm sorry to interrupt.”
“What's wrong?”
“I was reviewing the expenses again. There's something you need to see.”
“Another purchase?”
“No. The approval trail.”
My stomach tightened.
“What about it?”
“The fourteen receipts were only the beginning. I found a separate vendor account connected to Grant.”
I gripped the phone.
“How much?”
Margaret hesitated.
“Two hundred and eighty-six thousand dollars.”
I closed my eyes.
Then she said something worse.
“Elise, the account was opened eleven months ago.”
“So?”
“It was opened using your electronic signature.”
I looked toward the kitchen, where Lucy was humming while sorting blue puzzle pieces.
Margaret's voice dropped.
“And the authorization form has a witness signature.”
“Whose?”
May you like
She took a breath.
“Your mother's.”
