The relationship manager asked me one question: “Did you ever give your son written authority to discuss the company’s loans?” I told her no, and I reminded her that he wasn’t an officer, signer, or owner of the business. She asked me to come in with the loan documents and every piece of paperwork related to the house I’d used as collateral. Then she showed me the bank’s notes from my son’s calls. He hadn’t just asked about the numbers—he had been presenting himself as someone involved in decisions about the company’s debt. The manager said one of his questions had triggered an internal review because he had asked whether my house could be released from the collateral package.
I asked what he had told them about why he was calling. She said he’d explained that he was taking over more responsibility and needed to understand the company’s financial position. Then she showed me a request he’d made for a payoff figure that included my loan number and the company’s debt information. He had also asked what would happen if the business was restructured. None of those requests required his signature, but they suggested he believed he had authority he didn’t actually have. I told the bank to put a note on every account that my son was not authorized to make decisions or request changes. Then I went home and asked him why he had been trying to get information about my house.
He said he was only trying to protect the business because he thought I’d eventually retire. I told him protecting the business didn’t mean planning around collateral that belonged to me. The bank later confirmed that no changes had been made and that my house remained fully under my control. I also removed my son’s access to several internal financial reports he’d been given through his new position. He was angry and said I was treating him like I didn’t trust him. I told him trust wasn’t the issue—the issue was that two weeks after I gave him a job, he had already started talking to the bank like I’d given him the keys to everything.
