The thought made me very uneasy, but not as uneasy as the summons I received later. Trent called me into his office just after lunch. I left the preliminary mockups for the logo for Lexi on my worktable and hurried to his office. I was feeling very connected to the project and had some ideas I wanted to flesh out before bringing them to the team, but when the business department called, I answered. This reminded me of why I had liked working for myself. No interruptions.

I knocked on the doorjamb and waited for Trent to call me into the room. He was seated at his desk, and a frown marred his usual jovial appearance. I wondered what was up.

“You wanted to see me?” I asked.

Trent waved me into the chair across from his. “Come on in, Annabelle, this should only take a moment.”

I sat, and Trent smiled at me, but I noticed it didn’t reach his eyes. I started to get a bad feeling.

“I just need to go over some expenditures with you,” he said.

“All right.” As far as I knew, I didn’t have any. We were all issued company credit cards for taking out clients, but I hadn’t used mine as yet.

Trent handed me a sheet of paper. I looked at it and blinked. It was an itemized list of expenses billed to the credit card that had been issued to me. The sum at the bottom made me gasp. It appeared I had charged over a thousand dollars’ worth of food and drink at several restaurants in Phoenix. Restaurants to which I had never been.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“This is your billing statement for the past few weeks,” Trent said. “Looks like you’ve been working the client connection hard.” He laughed as if trying to make light of it, but I didn’t return it.

“But I haven’t used my card,” I said.

Trent stopped laughing. “Are you sure? You’re not in trouble. It’s just that we try to keep the monthly totals to a quarter of what’s listed here, but with the client you’ve brought in, I’m sure Miguel and Sophie will be okay with it.”

I nodded. “Soph told me that when she gave me the card, but I’m telling you the truth. I haven’t used my card. Not once.”

Trent’s eyebrows drew together. He glanced down at the copy of the bill that was in front of him and said, “On March seventh, you weren’t at Durant’s on Central Ave?”

I shook my head. “I’ve never even been to Durant’s.”

“Oh, you should go,” he said. “It’s like walking back in time. You enter through the kitchen and the chefs all greet you. And the dining room is totally vintage with red leather booths, paneling, and red velvet wallpaper.”