“For what?” I asked, crossing my arms. “For treating my staff well? For owning my own business? For defending myself from humiliation?”
I leaned in slightly. “I suggest you think very carefully before you threaten legal action. I have very good lawyers, and I have proof of every word you said tonight. This restaurant has security cameras in every corner—audio and video.”
That shut him up effectively.
Marleene turned even paler, if that was possible.
“But don’t worry,” I continued. “I have no intention of using that material against you unless you force me to. Unless you try to slander me or cause me problems, then yes, those recordings will become very public. And let me tell you, social media is not kind to people who humiliate elderly mothers in public.”
“You’re not elderly,” Michael muttered miserably.
“To them, I was,” I replied, motioning to Marleene’s parents. “To them, I was the poor old lady who didn’t even deserve a plate of food.”
Marleene’s mother finally found her voice, though it was shaky. “We never wanted it to go this far. We thought… we thought we were protecting our daughter, our grandchild.”