He didn't stop as he added, "Stop pretending, Therese! The transaction records don't lie! Look at the statement! I've never seen anyone pretend to be this innocent while being this greedy!"
Receipts started spilling out of the folder onto the floor.
I didn't even look at them.
My coworkers did.
They started picking them up, flipping through the pages, their faces shifting from confused to stunned.
"Therese," one of them whispered, eyes still glued to the statement. "Your shopping record is insane…"
Word spread like wildfire. People started passing around the receipts like they were front-row tickets to a scandal.
Luxury brands. Jewelry boutiques. Five-star hotels.
The full $500,000 limit? Gone. In three days.
I snatched the statement back and flipped through the printout myself. My finger went straight to the bottom line.
"These two cheap takeout transactions? That's all I paid for. The rest? Not mine."
Since I wouldn't admit it, Oliver looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then he laughed condescendingly.