In a story that sounds more like a sitcom plot than a payroll fiasco, a Florida veterinary clinic receptionist received more than $414,000 in accidental pay but held on to it.
Instead of reporting it, she spent it on a food truck, Zelle transfers to “Mama Dukes,” and house-building money for family in Argentina.
Yessica Arrua, 29, was working at the Palm Beach Equine Clinic (PBEC) in Wellington, pulling in a modest $60,000-a-year salary — until a glitch in the payroll system sent her on a financial joyride that lasted nearly a year.
From February 2022 to January 2023, she received massive overpayments totaling over $414,000. And while some might call HR, Arrua chose a different path: spend first, ask questions later.
A Blessing? A Bonus? A Bank Error?
According to investigators, Arrua told police she figured the money might be some kind of “bonus”, perhaps thanks for her “excellent work ethic” or, as she speculated, reward for saving the clinic money like a previous employee allegedly had. The truth? A payroll oversight no one noticed until it was far too late, including Arrua.
During her year of unearned wealth, she transferred thousands via Zelle to someone affectionately known as “Mama Dukes,” shelled out $80,000 for a food truck for her mother’s friend, and sent large sums to Argentina to help build a house for her family.
When the clinic’s lead veterinarian’s paycheck went missing, her credit cards were declined. That’s when she noticed something was off — and discovered where all the clinic’s money had gone.
A Gift From God
Once confronted, Arrua allegedly broke down and returned $200,000 via cashier’s check. But she claimed the rest was out of reach — her mother had already wired $100,000 to Argentina, believing it was “a gift from God.”
The Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Office was less divine in its interpretation. Arrua was arrested and booked into the Palm Beach County Main Detention Center, facing charges of grand theft and money laundering.
Payroll Error or Pay-Daydream?
The Palm Beach Equine Clinic, founded in 1981 and known for treating high-end horses in the equestrian capital of the U.S., is now rethinking more than just payroll. Dr. Scott Swerdlin, the clinic’s president, has reportedly requested that both Arrua and the payroll company Harbor America be held accountable.
Meanwhile, the food truck reportedly hasn’t hit the streets, and the Argentinian dream home is presumably still under construction.
In the end, Arrua’s case is a cautionary tale — not just about payroll systems, but about how a mystery windfall can quickly turn into a financial mess. Or as Arrua’s mother might say, a miracle misunderstood.
