When was this taken? Last Friday, 2:30 in the afternoon. I checked Amber's timesheet. She was supposed to be in depositions. I see.
There's more. I showed him screenshots of text messages between Amber and Curtis planning their meetings, discussing their relationship. I'd gotten them from Tyler, who'd gotten them from someone who'd gotten them from someone else. The digital age has made privacy an illusion. Hartwell studied the messages carefully.
How did you obtain these? Does it matter? They're real. He was quiet for a long moment, staring out the window at the city below. Nick, I understand you're hurt.
Betrayal is painful, especially from someone you love. But I can't make personnel decisions based on personal disputes. This isn't personal. This is professional. Amber has been lying to you, stealing time from the firm, conducting an affair during work hours.
If she'll lie to her husband, what makes you think she won't lie to you? Another long silence. Then Hartwell pressed a button on his desk phone. Jessica, please ask Amber to come to my office immediately. 5 minutes later, Amber walked in looking confident and professional in her navy blue suit.
She saw me sitting there and stopped dead in her tracks. What's he doing here? Sit down, Amber, Hartwell said quietly. She sat but kept her eyes on me like I was a snake that might strike at any moment. Hartwell showed her the video and the text messages.
I watched her face as the reality of the situation sank in. The confidence drained away, replaced by something that looked like panic. Richard, I can explain. I'm sure you can. But I don't think I want to hear it.
He stood up, walked around his desk, and opened the door. Clear out your office. Security will escort you out. You can't fire me. I have contracts, clients.