Chapter 6 - The Assistant With a Very Expensive Lifestyle|
Tiffany Marsh had worked for Ross for two years.
According to my husband, she was efficient, ambitious, and indispensable.
Apparently, she was also very expensive.
I learned that when Meredith's team began examining the limited company records we were able to obtain.
The first document that caught my attention was an expense reimbursement.
Twenty-six thousand dollars.
Description: Executive relationship development.
The attached invoice came from a luxury jeweler on Michigan Avenue.
I stared at the date.
It was three days before my anniversary bracelet disappeared.
“Meredith, tell me this isn't what I think.”
She examined the invoice.
“We can't determine what was purchased from this summary alone.”
“But the date?”
“It's worth investigating.”
The next reimbursement was even more troubling.
A twelve-thousand-dollar payment to a luxury furniture company.
Then a vehicle allowance.
Then a monthly housing stipend Tiffany hadn't disclosed as part of her ordinary compensation.
I leaned back.
“How much are we talking about?”
Meredith's associate, Caroline, checked her spreadsheet.
“From the transactions currently available, approximately two hundred eighty thousand dollars in unusual benefits and reimbursements.”
I stared at her.
“In two years?”
“Yes.”
My husband had complained when I wanted to replace the kitchen appliances.
He'd told me we needed to be disciplined because the company was entering a challenging market.
Meanwhile, his assistant was receiving enough benefits to purchase a small house.
Caroline continued.
“There's another issue. Several payments were approved through a consulting company.”
“What company?”
“Westbridge Advisory Partners.”
“Who owns it?”
“The publicly available records don't identify the ultimate beneficial owner.”
I looked toward Meredith.
“Can we find out?”
“We can request supporting records through the inspection rights, and our accountants can review what is produced.”
I nodded.
I wanted proof.
Not rumors.
That afternoon, I drove past Tiffany's apartment building.
I didn't approach her or enter the property.
I simply wanted to understand why someone earning an executive assistant's salary was living in one of Chicago's most expensive residential towers.
The building overlooked the lake.
A doorman stood beneath its polished entrance.
A white Mercedes was parked outside.
Tiffany's Mercedes.
My phone rang.
Ross.
I answered.
“Lydia, where are you?”
“Why?”
“Tiffany says you're harassing her.”
I stared through the windshield.
“I haven't spoken to Tiffany since I visited your office.”
“She says you've been investigating her finances.”
“I'm reviewing company expenditures.”
“That's none of your business.”
I almost laughed.
“Ross, my family's trust owns thirty-four percent of the parent company.”
He went silent.
Then his voice changed.
“Who told you that?”
I gripped the phone.
“The documents you've been required to honor since the day you accepted our investment.”
He exhaled sharply.
“Lydia, don't do anything stupid.”
I looked at the building.
“I'm not the one who used company money to impress an assistant.”
Ross suddenly shouted:
“You have no idea what you're interfering with!”
Then he ended the call.
I sat motionless.
For the first time, my husband sounded genuinely frightened.
Not angry.
May you like
Frightened.
And I began to wonder whether Tiffany was more than his mistress.
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