I Gave Derek 219 Free Rides—Then Janet Opened His Reimbursement File

He spent the morning telling people we had shared a carpool arrangement and I had ended it without warning because he “said one thing online.”

By Thursday, the story had changed again.

According to one coworker, I had demanded hundreds of dollars in backdated gas money.

According to another, I was angry because Derek wouldn’t cover one of my weekend shifts.

At 7:15, Janet called us into her office.

Derek went in first and sat in the chair closest to her desk. He still wore his orange safety vest. His arms were crossed, but his expression was calm.

Prepared.

Janet shut the door.

“Derek says an established transportation arrangement was terminated with less than twelve hours’ notice,” she said.

“It was a favor,” I replied.

Derek shook his head.

“He said it was on his way. I’ve depended on it for almost a year. Then he decides we’re done.”

“You never asked if my wife was all right.”

“This isn’t about your wife.”

The room went quiet.

Janet’s eyes moved to him.

He realized what he had said and leaned forward.

“I mean, obviously I hope she’s fine. But he’s using that to make me look bad.”

Janet asked whether the company had assigned me to drive him.

No.

Had Derek paid me?

“No payment,” he said quickly. “But we had an understanding.”

“What understanding?” I asked.

“That you’d get me to work.”

“I said I could help for a couple of weeks.”

“You never gave me an expiration date.”

He said it as though kindness required a cancellation clause.

I took out my phone.

Derek leaned across Janet’s desk.

“Show her where you canceled at ten at night.”

“It was 9:47.”

“Exactly.”

I opened the exchange and placed the phone between us.

Janet read my message aloud.

“I have to get my wife to the hospital early.”

Then she read his reply.

There was no concern for Claire. No question. Just a complaint about what a ride would cost him.

Derek’s jaw tightened.

“That was one message. I was stressed.”

I showed Janet the Facebook screenshot.

He shrugged.

“I didn’t name him.”

“You told four people it was about me,” I said.

“They asked.”

Janet scrolled through the comments.

Then she asked me how long I had been recording the rides.

I handed her printed photographs of Claire’s notebook pages. Each pickup was marked with a small blue line. Beside every gas purchase was the amount, odometer reading, and date.

There were 214 marks.

Derek laughed, but there was panic underneath it.

“His wife keeps a diary about me? That’s weird.”

“She keeps a budget,” I said.

Janet looked at the pages for a long time.

Then she opened a folder already sitting on her desk.

That was the first moment I understood the meeting was not only about the Facebook post.

“Derek,” she said, “you told me yesterday that Mark had frequently made you late.”

“He did.”

I turned toward him.

Janet pulled out our time records.

Eight late arrivals appeared under Derek’s name over the previous eleven months. Only two appeared under mine.

On six of those eight days, security records showed my badge entering the employee door before Derek’s.

“You said you arrived together,” Janet told him.

“Most of the time we did.”

“You also requested attendance exceptions on three dates, stating that your driver failed to arrive.”

Derek glanced at me.

I had never heard about those requests.

Janet slid copies across the desk.

He had described me as his “designated carpool driver.” On one form, he claimed I had canceled at the last minute. The date was in October.

My phone history showed something else.

At 5:08 that morning, I had texted, “I’m outside.”

At 5:19, Derek wrote, “Go ahead. I overslept.”

He had used me as an excuse to erase one of his attendance points.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” he said. “Maybe he came on a different day.”

The date and timestamp were visible.

Janet called Dana into the office.

Dana stood by the door and looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t hesitate.

“Derek told me Mark was outside that morning,” she said. “He said he was hiding in the bathroom because he’d been up all night gaming and didn’t want to go in.”

Derek’s face reddened.

“You’re twisting a joke.”

“No,” Dana said. “I told you Mark was going to get tired of being used.”

That should have finished it.

It didn’t.

Janet closed the attendance folder and opened another one.

“Payroll received a transportation subsidy application from you last May,” she said.

Derek stopped moving.

Our company had a temporary commuter-hardship program. Employees without reliable transportation could be reimbursed for taxis or rideshare trips for up to ninety days, provided they submitted receipts.

I knew about the program. I had even mentioned it to Derek shortly after his car supposedly died.

He told me he had been rejected.

He hadn’t.

He had collected $2,568.

While I was buying the gas and taking the detour, Derek had submitted claims showing he paid an average of twelve dollars per morning for rides to work.

Janet spread the reimbursement sheets across her desk.

The dates matched Claire’s notebook.

Not some of them.

Nearly all of them.

My 214 blue marks had given payroll a calendar.

The claims included digital receipts from a rideshare company. At first glance, they looked genuine. But the pickup addresses had inconsistent fonts, and several ride identification numbers were repeated.

Janet had contacted payroll after Derek complained that I had ended our “arrangement.” She wanted to know whether the warehouse had any obligation to provide him transportation.

Payroll searched his name and found the subsidy.

Then they noticed he had claimed paid rides on days multiple employees saw him get out of my car.

Derek stared at the papers.

“I used that money for transportation.”

“You rode with me for free,” I said.

“Gas isn’t free.”

“You never paid for gas.”

“I bought food sometimes.”

“You ate the food I brought.”

He turned to Janet.

“The program was approved. What I spent the money on isn’t his business.”

“It is the company’s business,” she said. “You certified that every receipt was accurate.”

“They were estimates.”

“They were presented as completed rides.”

He changed direction instantly.

He said I had known about the subsidy.

Then he said I had helped him apply.

Then he claimed the money was meant to be split between us.

Janet asked him to show one message mentioning payment.

He couldn’t.

I opened my banking app and offered to show every transfer I had ever received from him.

There were none.

Payroll joined us by video call. A representative named Mr. Alvarez shared his screen and displayed three receipts from different months.

The same vehicle identification number appeared on all three, but the supposed drivers had different names.

Worse, one receipt claimed Derek had been picked up at 5:06 on a morning when he had texted me at 5:07, “I can see your car. Coming down.”

He was trapped by his own timestamps.

Derek stood so quickly his chair struck the wall.

“This is harassment,” he said. “You’re all ganging up on me because he’s emotional about his wife.”