" Do you really need to tag along Portia in this so called formal dinner at this Richy Ritz Hotel, Brenda?" Mia doesn't masked the looked of disgust on her doll like appearance.

" Sneering at this high end hotel, Mia, is unbecoming, it has a name."

" Whatever name it has, you can't deny the fact that the sole purpose of this is to pimp your daughter, my goddaughter."

Brenda slowly shakes her head, "such a strong words, not pimping my dear but acquainting to be a future stepdaughter and eventually rubbing elbows with elite society."

" Being a wisteria is acceptable than calling it whoring? Pimping? Selling live meat?"

" All those terms are gross, we're on the way to being a high end ladies."

" High end ladies my foot! We both know what we're doing, whoring! The oldest profession even in Biblical accounts." Mia got an evil eyes from Brenda, but it's normal for them.

" Be a sweety for once Mia, stop harping and constantly siding with Portia. Perhaps you can lend a hand to your goddaughter to prepare, I need her to be speck and span."

Mia glared murderously at Brenda, " really, you're talking to me. You think I'll lend a hand for this barbaric scheme, keep on dreaming Brenda."

" Great be a Pontius Pilate for all I care, just get out from my hair, just this once, please -," Brenda hangs deliberately the sentence and twirls theatrically, giving her back at Mia, " you're heading to work right? Mia."

" As if you care so much Brenda.Knowing you, all you can think about is the money we'll bring by hustling as a pimp and whore."

"Bear in mind, I hustle with the good and upright customer, so it's a win - win situation for all of us. Remember, elegance and grace equals good business."

" I'm willing? We're willing, it's our choice. Is Portia willing? Is it her choice?" Mia blurt it out in one go, still crusading for her goddaughter.

" I'm paving the way to the next level, Mia. How about you? Still selling without upgrading? Its a cheap mentality. How many good years can you still go on? Five years? Ten years maximum. If and only if you really take good care of your body."

"At least I only ruined my own destiny with my mentality. Adieu Brenda, before I'm tempted to shake some sense in your deranged mind."

" Adieu Mia "

" Oh! By the way, you really top yourself with that ensemble so classy and understated, just a shame that you have no morals and a super entitled thinking."

A little while a fading click clack of heels on the parquet flooring was heard and much later a soft closing of door.

With one fine looked at the aged, imperfect glass mirror, with a beautiful patina that creates softly theatrical reflection, set in ornate hand-carved wooden frames with geometric Art Deco patterns adding depth, warmth, and historical character. Brenda smiled with satisfaction.

She head to Portia's room, without knocking, she let herself in and studied the ethereal daughter. Her passport to another world her pass to immense opportunity. One look at her when she was born, her breath hitch, she got a rare unpolished diamond.

Mom was always like that, she can come and go to my room without knocking but reverse the situation it's not applicable for me. I should always knock at closed doors

, it doesn't matter if it's locked or not.

"Turn around my dearest Portia."

With an eagle eye for details, she simply observe like a curator to a prized painting.

" Half turn this time, and move slowly, raised your chin a bit and looked ennui."

Mom crossed the distance and busied herself with the neckline of my princess dress.

" A little low to stimulate just right, but never indulge, just to tantalize but no place to peek. A right dress creates an intrigue, a spark of excitement, a thrill of interest to intoxicate the senses.

I stood still listening to my mom's melodious chant, it's like a prayer, a talisman to be keep and memorize.

I'm not surprised by the chauffeur's presence when we head outside, looking at Mom's face, she's so pleased with the arrangement and accept that it's just the way it's supposed to be.

A bold entitlement written across her face and haughty attitude.

Her ears turned a much darker hue from the pleasure coursing through her veins by this grand gestures, especially when the chauffeur opens the back door and uttered the magic word.

" This way madame and miss, my employer conveys his heartfelt appreciation for accepting his invitation."

Mom nods a little acknowledging the message.

Oh, the twinkle in her eyes surpasses the most shimmering stars and planets in the galaxies.

The Mercedes-Benz Cabriolet, simply screams old money a blend of timeless luxury and understated elegance.

I casually slid in the car, tantalizing my eyes with high grade Nappa leather upholstery, open-pore woods, and satin-finished metal accents, making the cabin whispers exclusive.

My eyes closed by the sheer experience of this smooth ride.

When the car stopped, I held every ounce of discipline to keep gawking at the facade of the hotel, a symphony of symmetry, ornate detailing and dignified scale, with grand entrances, sculpted stone, towering columns, intricate wrought iron arched windows, mansard roofs and classical motifs.

I live and breath about classical things, courtesy of my mother, it's her love language, her mother tongue.

The maitre d' ushered us to the designated table, and by Lord's grace, the settings is Superb! Before it's just an endless lessons, now I'm drinking the sight.

At the end of my line of vision stops my commune with classical things, a sour taste rise in my mouth.

Standing across the table is Sir Renoir, she flirtatiously crossed the distance and coquettishly offered her cheeks for the half hearted welcome of Sir Renoir for her presence, when he leans in my way with great enthusiasm, I turned my head, earning a deathly stare from him.

We sat down, browse the menus, I for one simply look at it, looking without seeing, listening to the hushed conversation without comprehending, inclining my head without understanding.

Dinner starts with amuse-bouche, a tiny complimentary bite from the chef, an appetizers of gourmet Tartares followed by artisanal salads with house-made dressings, a Duck confit, a sides of Gratin potatoes, and Artisanal ice cream, lastly a Mignardises, small pastries accompanied by never ending tea, how I wish it's a black coffee with lots of sugar.

Looking at the rim of his sparkling water, a devilish gleam appears, " you' ve got a healthy appetite, the joy of youth."

" Food is universal Sir, it should be relish as the Creator make it so."

" With me you'll never know hunger." He smiled patronizingly.

" There's a lot of hunger, not only from the belly, Sir Renoir." I directly challenged his patronizing air.

"Enough of this talk my dearest Portia, it's unbecoming for a fine lady."

" Pardon my poor behavior mom." Without batting an eye I scornfully looked at him with a dripping sweetness I address him to appease my mom.

" Sorry Sir Renoir I forgot my place, thank you for this sumptuous meal." I stand tactfully, signaling the end for this elaborate charade of a dinner.

" The pleasure is always mine, Portia. Until next time."

He doesn't rise from his sprawled sitting position, he just raised his snifter of Courvoisier brandy, " my chauffeur return you to your villa."

With a slight hand gesture the maitre d' materialize, escorting us outside.

As we traveled, mother never uttered a single word or non verbal admonition, she just closed her eyes and keep her thoughts as her company.