When Amber Peetz started her job as an administrative assistant at a five-person public relations firm, she seemed to come with no liabilities. "She got here on time, worked steadily, dressed professionally, and always double-checked her work," recalls Liz Leslie, owner of the agency. "She was meticulous and reliable in every way."
About a year into her tenure, however, her behavior became strange and inconsistent. Although she still finished her projects on time for the most part, she started arriving late and calling in sick frequently. "It was always a different excuse," says Liz. "One day it was a fender bender, another day her alarm didn't go off, and once she 'had to stop and help another driver with a flat tire.' I noticed that a lot of her sick days fell right around the time she'd get her paycheck. We'd ask her how she was feeling after she came back to work. It would always be, 'Oh, I'm fine. It was just a 24-hour thing.'"
After her absences, Amber would sometimes make up time by working 16-hour days. Co-workers appreciated her dedication, but the inconsistency was a bit alarming.
A few months later, Amber's salary suddenly seemed inadequate. She borrowed $200 from Kelly Jacob, one of the account executives. Amber's story? "I need to pay the handyman to fix my shower. That's why I've been late. It takes forever to get ready for work, because the showerhead only gives a trickle of water."
It sounded a bit strange, particularly since Amber lived in a rental building where plumbing problems should probably be fixed by the superintendent free of charge. Nonetheless, "Amber had never asked me for money before, so I figured there must be a good reason," says Kelly. "She was very grateful. She thanked me profusely and promised she would make it up to me soon. But it turned out she'd also borrowed money from Liz, and both of us are still waiting to be paid back."
The call to action came about four months into the bad behavior. Customers began to complain Amber was short-tempered with them on the phone. When Liz spoke to Amber about it, she said she was terribly sorry, that she was grappling with a caffeine problem and would cut down on coffee to even out her mood. Still, Amber's mild temperament was giving way to frenetic mannerisms.
The final straw was one late night when Liz stopped by the office late to pick up some papers and surprised Amber in the ladies room, where she saw her sniffing a white powdered substance on a compact mirror. "Oh, Liz," Amber stammered. "I just crushed some aspirin. I can't swallow whole tablets. I have a migraine." Suddenly, everything about Amber's changed behavior seemed to make sense.
The next morning, Liz stopped by a drug counseling center, picked up some brochures about getting help for substance abuse, and placed them on Amber's desk before she got to work.
Although Amber removed the pamphlets and never mentioned them, they seemed to scare her straight—for a total of three days. After that, the same pattern emerged: lateness, inconsistency, frenetic mannerisms, and more tales about why she needed to borrow extra cash. Liz called Amber into her office. "Amber," she said. "I normally don't get involved in my employees' personal lives, but clearly you have a cocaine problem, and it has to stop."
"I would never use cocaine," Amber cried defensively. "I'm a good person. Everyone thinks so. You can ask my friends. I don't take drugs, and I never would!" She left in a huff.
The next morning, Amber called in her resignation. "I quit starting now," Amber's voice said on Liz's voice mail. "I've given everything to this job including nights and weekends. You don't appreciate it, so I'm gone."
Amber never came back, and it took months to find and train a good replacement for her. Did Liz do the right thing?
Rebecca Reisner is an editor at BusinessWeek.com .