Paying three hundred thousand dollars of debt before being ordered out of the house
I found James, Marcus’s business partner, sitting alone in the glass-walled boardroom. He was staring at a white board covered in faded blue marker, a paper coffee cup clutched in both hands. The room smelled of stale coffee and carpet dust, the large conference table covered in rings from old mugs.
“James,” I said, tapping the open glass door.
He looked up, his tie loosened at the collar, showing a pale throat. “Clare. If you are looking for Marcus, he is out with a client.”
“I am actually looking for some clarification on the overhead accounts,” I said, sitting in the leather chair opposite him. “Specifically, the ninety thousand dollar transfer from last winter.”
James set his coffee down on the table, his hand lingering on the warm paper cup. “Marcus handles the treasury. You know that. I only look at the product development and the engineering team.”
“But you are his fifty-fifty partner,” I said. “Surely you sign off on any advisory fees of that size.”
