Mr. Moore froze, like his brain needed a reboot.
Then, from across the room, a voice called out:
“Miss Brenda! We’ve been waiting forever. What’s taking you so long?”
Brenda lit up instantly.
“Robert! Finally! Claire–this insufferable servant–has been pestering me nonstop with her nonsense. Lucky you’re here, or I don’t know how I’d explain myself!”
Robert’s gaze locked onto me, a smug grin spreading across his face.
“Claire,” he said, “Miss Brenda’s father sent me to oversee the donation. Why are you interfering? Don’t you want Miss Brenda to contribute to the school?”
The crowd didn’t waste a second piling on.
“Is Claire serious right now? Brenda’s butler is right here, and she’s still running her mouth?”
“She’s probably jealous. Can’t handle how perfect Brenda’s life is, so she’s spiraling.”
“Claire, just stop. If you tick Brenda off, we’re gonna lose the new school building!”
I tuned them out, fixing Robert with a glare.
“Oh, I see what’s going on,” I said. “So, after my mom fired you, you went crawling to my dad instead?
“Switching teams doesn’t erase your screw–ups, Robert. If I were you, I’d quit while you’re ahead. Because newsflash–the one actually running the Sinclair Corp isn’t my dad.”
The second those words left my mouth, Brenda flew at me and slapped me hard across the
face.
“Enough, Claire! If you ever slander my father again, I’ll make sure you regret it!”
