The attorney wasn’t what Morgan had expected. Younger than anticipated—perhaps early forties—with sharp features softened by an unexpectedly warm smile. Her charcoal gray skirt and blazer were impeccably tailored, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek chignon.
“Ms. Reeves, please sit down,” Alexandra said, gesturing to the seating area rather than the more formal chairs opposite her desk. “I understand you’re in a difficult situation.”
Morgan sank into one of the comfortable chairs, suddenly feeling the emotional weight of the day. “Thank you for seeing me so quickly. I’m not sure where to begin.”
“Why don’t you start with what happened today, and then we can fill in the background,” Alexandra suggested, taking a seat across from her.
Morgan explained everything—the Henderson invoice with her signature that she’d never approved, Richard’s dismissive response, and this morning’s sudden placement on administrative leave. As she spoke, Alexandra took notes on a sleek tablet, occasionally asking clarifying questions.
“And you’ve never authorized any expenses beyond approved budgets?” the attorney asked when Morgan finished her account.
“Never. I’m meticulous about staying within client budgets.”
“Do you have access to any evidence? Emails, documentation, anything that might show tampering with your digital signature?”
Morgan thought for a moment. “I saved copies of some financial reports that seemed off, but nothing definitive, just a form that has my signature that I didn’t sign. Other than that, anything else is on my work computer, which they’ve now confiscated.”
Alexandra nodded, making another note. “That’s standard procedure in these cases. They’ll be examining your email history, document access logs, everything.”
“Will they find anything incriminating?” Morgan asked, worry creeping into her voice.
“If you didn’t do what they’re suggesting, then no, not legitimately.” Alexandra’s expression became more serious. “However, if someone has been using your credentials and digital signature, they may have created a paper trail that appears to implicate you.”
“Richard,” Morgan said with certainty. “My boss. This has to be him.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet,” Alexandra cautioned. “Tell me more about the company’s financial procedures. Who has access to your login credentials? How are digital signatures applied?”
Over the next hour, Morgan answered detailed questions about Vertex Creative’s operations, security protocols, and reporting structures. Alexandra was thorough, exploring angles Morgan hadn’t considered.
“Based on what you’ve told me,” the attorney said finally. “This appears to be a classic scapegoating situation. Someone has been committing financial fraud and is now setting you up to take the fall.”
“What do we do?” Morgan asked, relief flooding through her at being believed.
“First, we need to secure evidence before it disappears. I’ll file for an emergency injunction preventing Vertex from destroying or altering any records related to the accounts you’ve mentioned.” Alexandra tapped something into her tablet. “Second, we need to understand the bigger picture. Is Vertex Creative having financial difficulties? Ownership changes? Anything unusual happening at the corporate level?”
Morgan thought for a moment. “There have been rumors about a possible acquisition. Nothing concrete, but people have been speculating for months.”
Alexandra’s expression sharpened. “Acquisition? By whom?”
“I don’t know. It could just be office gossip.”
“That’s potentially significant,” the attorney said, making another note. “Financial irregularities often come to light during due diligence for acquisitions. If someone has been embezzling and knows the company is being examined for purchase, they might be rushing to cover their tracks.”
The assessment made perfect sense. Richard’s sudden move against her could be a desperate attempt to create a scapegoat before the acquisition process exposed his activities.
“What happens now?” Morgan asked.
“I’ll file the injunction this afternoon. Then we’ll send a formal letter to Vertex Creative asserting your innocence and demanding they preserve all evidence.” Alexandra looked up from her tablet. “In the meantime, don’t contact anyone at the company. Don’t discuss details of the case with anyone not covered by attorney-client privilege.”
“Not even..." Morgan hesitated. “Not even the person who referred me to you?”
Alexandra studied her for a moment. “You mean Archer?”
Morgan nodded.
“That’s... complicated.” The attorney seemed to choose her words carefully. “I can’t tell you who to talk to in your personal life, but I would advise discretion about the details of this case until we know more.”
There was something in her tone that Morgan couldn’t quite interpret—as if Alexandra knew something about Archer that she knew Morgan didn’t. The feeling of being the only one not in on some important secret was becoming frustratingly familiar.
