Page 33 of How to Undo the Proud Billionaire

Brin smiled at Mari’s tart response and hoped that the Radebes would leave the staff an enormous tip when they left on Friday. If they didn’t, and Brin wasn’t convinced they would, she hoped Radd rewarded them for not killing their demanding guests.

“Her job is to cater to our every whim and I do not understand why I am standing here and nothing is happening. She’s not a very good manager, and I think you should fire her.”

Brin’s eyes widened. Okay, there was no way that Radd would stand for that type of talk. Not only was Mari exceptional at her job, but she and Radd had been friends since they were kids. He’d jump to her defense, any minute now.

Brin waited, and then waited some more. When Radd didn’t defend Mari, her heart dropped to her toes. She knew how it felt to be falsely accused, to be blamed for something that wasn’t her fault. She’d endured Kerry’s unreasonable anger on too many occasions to count and she’d prayed, wished, her mom would stand up for her, just once.

But that never happened.

Even Kerry’s making out with her boyfriend had been swept under the rug, dismissed. Her wants, needs or feelings meant nothing. Like Naledi, keeping Kerry happy was all that was important, no matter who it hurt.

Brin mentally begged Radd to stand up to the witch!

“I’m sorry you think that, Naledi.”

What? That was it? Come on, Radd, do better!

“The food is mediocre, the service second rate and I’m really not happy with the flowers.”

What? Radd told her she’d loved the flowers when she’d arrived! And how dare she criticize Mari’s staff when they’d been run off their feet with ridiculous requests. And the food was divine!

“I’m afraid it’s not possible for anyone move into the spare villa, Naledi, it’s privately owned and isn’t part of the lodge,” Radd said.

“Well, call the owner and get permission!” Naledi retorted. “Come on, chop, chop!”

Brin felt her temper catch alight. Man, she sounded just like Kerry. What, did these socialites and influencers all go to bitch school?

“It wasn’t a suggestion, Radd, I need an extra room. And you, Mari—is that your name?—get your act together. And tell your staff to do the same. I do not want to have another conversation about your lack of attentiveness again.”

Radd would say something now, of course he would. He wouldn’t let her revolting attitude go unchallenged. When neither Radd nor Mari defended each other or themselves, Brin decided she’d heard enough.

Stomping across the room, she stepped into the narrow hallway and took in the scene before her. Radd stood statue-still, his face a cold, hard mask and Mari’s eyes held the fine sheen of tears.

Naledi, dressed in a pair of skin-tight shorts and a tiny top, looked like she was enjoying herself immensely.It is dangerous, Brin thought,but someone has to say something.Then,This isn’t your fight, retreat now and keep the peace.

She wanted to, and Brin felt herself take a step back, the tension making her throat close. How many times had she been in Mari’s position, desperate for someone to be the voice of reason? To stand up for her, to stand up for what was right?

It would be easy to walk away, she’d done it a hundred, five hundred, times before. Walking away was what she did. And did well.

So walk away then…

She wanted to, she did, but her feet refused to obey her brain’s command.You’re not really going to insert yourself into this fight, are you, Brin? It’s not your problem and you don’t handle confrontation well. You can’t, at the best of times, stick up for yourself, remember?

But she could try, just this once, stick up for Mari and her staff and restore a little balance.

“Good morning, Naledi.” She, at least, could aim for a modicum of politeness.

Naledi gave her an up-and-down, not-worth-my-notice look. The last of Brin’s hesitation fled and her only thought was…oh, game on.

“Did you dump an extra dose of bitch tonic in your coffee this morning, Miss Radebe?” Brin asked her, making sure her voice was loaded with disdain.

“Excuse me?” Naledi spluttered.

“You are acting like a spoiled child,” Brin told her, keeping her tone low. She knew, from dealing with her sister, that cutting sentences quietly stated had far more of an effect than loud accusations.

“Brinley, stay out of this,” Radd told her, his voice as hard as granite.

Not a chance. Not now that she’d begun, anyway. She ignored Radd’s order and held Naledi’s dark, dismissive eyes. “Mari and her staff are wonderful and incredibly talented, and you know it. They deserve an apology and, better yet, to be treated like human beings and not your personal slaves. Furthermore…”

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