…”Gregory Lane. My former boss.”
His wife, Caroline, was on the phone with me when I read it. She was silent for a long time. Then she said, “The child is four. My husband has a four-year-old son.”
The truth came out over the next few weeks, through my attorney and a forensic accountant Caroline hired. Five years earlier, Gregory had had an affair with a woman named Tiffany, a former temp at our office. When she got pregnant, he panicked. Caroline owned half the company, and a scandal would have cost him everything. So he used my personal information, which he had access to as my employer, to put my name on the birth certificate as the mother and open a bank account for “child support.” The $5,000 a month came from company funds, disguised as payments to a “consulting service” registered to my name.
Tiffany had never wanted my name on her son’s birth certificate. Gregory told her it was the only way to keep the child “protected” from his wife’s lawyers. She was young, scared and believed him.
And Christmas? Caroline had been planning a year-end audit of the company’s accounts, starting the week of December 26. Gregory knew I handled his expense reports. He wanted me gone before anyone could ask me about the consulting payments.
Caroline filed for divorce in January. She also took control of the company, as its co-owner, and called the police. Gregory was charged with identity theft, document fraud and embezzlement.
My attorney worked with the state to correct the birth certificate. Tiffany was listed as the boy’s mother, as she should have been from the start. She cried when she signed the papers. I met her and her son at the records office. He was a sweet little boy, holding a dinosaur toy. None of this was his fault.
In February, Caroline called me again. This time she asked if I’d come back to the company, not as an executive assistant but as operations manager. “You were the only person in that office my husband was afraid of,” she said. “Because you actually paid attention.”
I accepted, on one condition: nobody on my team ever works on Christmas Day unless they want to.
She agreed. This year, I spent Christmas morning making pancakes with my kids in pajamas. My phone was turned off. It was the best Christmas we’ve ever had.
