occasions when they both supposedly worked late. She took the drive,
turned it over in her hands. Security camera footage.
How did you obtain that? I didn’t. A friend who works in building
security did. He’s prepared to testify if necessary. That was a lie.
I paid a security contractor $200 to pull the footage, and he’d made it
very clear he wouldn’t testify to anything. But Olivia didn’t need to
know that. This is She plugged in the drive, opened the files, her face
remaining professionally neutral as she scanned through evidence. This
is quite thorough. I had a lot of time to be thorough.
She looked up from the screen. Mr. Parker, I need to ask you something
directly. What’s your goal here? Are you seeking revenge against your
wife and her against these employees?
Or are you genuinely concerned about company policy violations? I
considered the question. The honest answer was complicated. It was both
revenge and principle, hurt, injustice, personal pain, and legitimate
concern about workplace ethics. My wife had an affair, I said slowly.
That’s personal and it’s painful, and yes, I’m angry about it. But she
also used company resources to conduct that affair. She claimed work
trips that were actually vacations. She used office time for personal
communications. She and Tyler created a situation where their colleagues
had to cover for them, had to lie about their whereabouts, had to be
complicit in something that violated your company’s ethics policy.
I leaned forward. So yes, this is personal, but it’s also a legitimate
workplace issue. And I think your other employees deserve to work in an
environment where people follow the rules, where married colleagues
don’t use company time and resources to conduct affairs, where
professional boundaries actually mean something. Olivia studied me for a
long moment. You’re very articulate for someone in your situation.
I’ve had time to think about how to articulate it. She turned back to
her computer, clicked through more files. This footage from the parking
garage. When was this taken? Multiple dates from July through October.
The timestamps are in the file names. And these hotel receipts, they
show charges to Tyler Grant’s personal credit card, but some of them are
from afternoons when both employees were supposedly at client meetings.
Yes. Did you verify with the clients whether those meetings actually
happened? No.
That felt like overstepping, but I’m sure your records show whether they
build those hours as client work. She made a note on her legal pad. They
did. We’ve already pulled their time sheets. Something in her tone told
me Lauren and Tyler were in deeper trouble than they knew.
Billing personal time as client work wasn’t just an ethics violation. It
was fraud. Is there anything else you can tell me that might be relevant
to our investigation? I thought about the birth control deception, about
the fertility treatments, about all the personal betrayals that had
nothing to do with Cascade Text policies. No, everything else is private
between Lauren and me.
I appreciate your discretion. She ejected the flash drive, slid it back
across the desk. Keep this. We’ve copied everything we need. And Mr.
Parker, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you’re going through this.
Workplace affairs create victims beyond just the spouses involved. They
damage team dynamics, create liability for the company, and force
colleagues into uncomfortable positions. I appreciate that. We’ll be
conducting our investigation over the next two weeks.
I can’t tell you what the outcome will be, but I can tell you we take
these matters seriously. If employees violate our ethics policy,
especially if they commit time sheet fraud, there are consequences. I
stood to leave, shook her hand. Thank you for your time, Mr. Parker.
She walked me to the door. I’ve been doing this job for 15 years. I’ve
seen a lot of workplace affairs. Most of the betrayed spouses who come
in here are angry, vengeful, looking to cause maximum damage. You’re not
like that.
I’m angry, I said. Honestly, I’m very angry, but I’m trying to channel
it into something constructive instead of destructive. Well, you’re
doing a remarkable job. I hope you find peace with all of this. I rode
the elevator down 14 floors, walked through the lobby past employees who
might have known about Lauren and Tyler, who might have covered for
them, who might have watched my marriage dissolve in real time while
pretending ignorance.
Outside, the winter air felt sharp and clean. I stood on the sidewalk
for a moment, letting it clear my head, trying to process what I just
done. I’d potentially cost Lauren her job, her career, the financial
independence she’d fought so hard for. I waited to feel guilty, waited
for remorse to hit me, for second thoughts to creep in. But all I felt
was tired, and maybe underneath that, the smallest flicker of
satisfaction.
My phone buzzed, a text from an unknown number. This is Tyler. We need
to talk now. Meet me at the coffee shop on 5th. I stared at the message,
debated ignoring it, then decided why not.
One more conversation, one more chance to hear him try to explain the
inexplicable. I texted back 30 minutes. Tyler was already there when I
arrived, sitting at a corner table with the two cups of coffee going
cold in front of him. He looked terrible, unshaven, rumpled, like he’d
slept in his car. His leg was bouncing under the table, nervous energy
radiating off him in waves.
“Thanks for coming,” he said as I sat down. You have 20 minutes talk. HR
called me in yesterday, asked me questions about Lauren, about our
relationship, about work trips and client billing. They’re investigating
us, Daniel. They’re looking at time sheet records and expense reports.
And he ran his hands through his hair. Did you talk to them? I answered
their questions honestly. You gave them evidence. Security footage,
credit card receipts.
You’re trying to get us fired. I’m trying to get divorced. What your
employer does with information about your ethics violations is their
choice, not mine. Ethics violations? He laughed bitterly.
That’s what you’re calling it? We fell in love, Daniel. That’s not a
violation. That’s You fell in love on company time. You build personal
hours as client work.
You used office resources to conduct an affair. That’s not romance,
Tyler. That’s fraud. He slumped in his chair. Lauren is going to lose
her job.
They basically told her that yesterday. And I’ll probably lose mine,
too. We’ll both be blacklisted in the industry, unable to get
references, starting over from nothing. Consequences, I said simply. For
what?
For being human? For making mistakes? For lying? For stealing company
time? For creating a hostile work and environment where your colleagues
had to cover for you?
I leaned forward. You want to know what really bothers me about this,
Tyler? Not that you fell in love with my wife. Feelings happen. I get
that.
What bothers me is how entitled you both are. How you act like the rules
don’t apply to you. Like you should be able to conduct an affair on your
employer’s dime and face no consequences because your feelings are
special. That’s not it is fair. You made choices.
Adult choices. Now you get adult consequences. That’s how the world
works. He stared at his coffee and I watched him realize that charm
wouldn’t work here. That I wasn’t someone he could sweet talk or
manipulate.
What do you want from me, Daniel? An apology. I already gave you one
graveling. I’ll do it if that’s what it takes. I don’t want anything
from you.
I wanted the truth, which I got. I wanted the affair documented, which
it is. I wanted to make sure everyone knew what really happened, and now
they do. There’s nothing else you have that I need. Lauren said, “You’re
destroying her life out of spite.” Lauren destroyed her own life.
I’m just refusing to help her hide the wreckage. I stood up. Your 20