Chapter 13 - THE LICENSE BOARD
The accountancy board interviewed me for three hours.
Not because they thought I forged my own signature.
Because professional credibility requires documented answers.
They asked:
When did Morrow Financial’s engagement end?
Who retained template files?
Was my signature image secure?
Did I ever allow Whitmore staff to transmit reports for me?
Did I review any numbers informally?
Yes.
The careless email.
Looks roughly consistent with what I remember. Ask current accountant.
I hated that sentence.
The investigator asked:
“Would you write it today?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because ‘roughly consistent’ in an informal email can be repurposed by someone who wants ambiguity.”
“Did you intend it as assurance?”
“No.”
“Would a reasonable lender see that email?”
“They should not have. It was to Harrison.”
Then the board asked:
“Did family status compromise your professional boundaries before you ended the engagement?”
That hurt.
“Yes.”
How?
I sometimes answered questions without billing or formal scope because Harrison was my father-in-law.
I allowed familiarity to replace engagement discipline.
No fraud.
Still bad practice.
The board closed the matter with no disciplinary charge against me.
They issued an advisory letter.
Improve electronic-signature controls.
Avoid informal professional comments to former family-related clients.
Document scope boundaries.
Fair.
My license stayed active.
My firm survived.
But I changed procedures.
No pasted signature images.
Certificate-based signing only.
Client communications retained centrally.
No informal “quick looks” for relatives.
If Evan asked me to estimate a restaurant tip, I considered requiring an engagement letter.
He hated the joke.
Then civil claims.
Morrow Financial sued Whitmore Development, Harrison, and Lucas for:
Unauthorized use of firm name.
Professional identity misuse.
Costs.
Reputational damage where provable.
The company’s independent board quickly separated itself from Harrison.
Settled corporate portion.
Publicly acknowledged Morrow Financial had not performed the three reviews.
Paid fees.
Improved controls.
Claims against Harrison and Lucas remained.
Good.
No need to punish 240 employees through endless litigation if the company would correct.
Then Harrison gave an interview.
Bad idea.
He said:
“Tessa is an excellent accountant who became confused about the degree of her ongoing involvement during a stressful pregnancy.”
My blood boiled.
My lawyer smiled.
Again.
“Why do you keep smiling?”
“Because he keeps repeating the framing the phone shows he planned in advance.”
The interview became evidence of continued narrative strategy.
Not a new crime.
Just useful.
Then my mother asked:
“Can I slap him?”
“No.”
“Tray?”
May you like
“Also no.”
Family humor had become dangerous.
