I heaved a long sigh, shaking my head despondently. "I'm not sure, Mom, but I get the feeling Martha sees me as some kind of gold-digging parasite, just trying to mooch off Rafayel's wealth."

Mom's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A gold-digger? How dare she make such a callous judgment? Hasn't her manager taught her any manners?"

"Maybe it's because I'm so much more modest than she is," I murmured, trying to approach it rationally.

"Leslie, it doesn't matter how modest someone is. It's never acceptable for a high-end restaurant supervisor to douse a customer in wine, especially one in the VVIP room," Mom said, her voice firm and unyielding....