Norah and her mother rarely talked on the phone. But when they did however find a moment for a chat, that moment usually turned into a three-hour conversation. Usually it was one-sided as Norah had had little going on her life whilst her mother has been travelling extensively, sharing the chronicles of her spiritual journey and talked about her new surfer/ yoga instructor boyfriend.

"That's great mum. I'm glad you're having fun in Brazil," Norah said, holding the phone on one hand, whilst rummaging through her mother's closet with the other.

Norah's mum always had an impeccable, classy style. When her parents were still married, Norah's father showered her mum, Ayame, with designer bags, clothes, and jewellery. Once her mum left on her travels, she brought all her valuable stuff to be stored in Joyce's house.

She opened the long, multiple shelved closet of the guest bedroom and looked over the designer bags of different shapes and sizes. The smart, beautiful cut suit sets and dresses hung, some of them hidden in their designer covers.

"So, this party. And this boy, you're tutoring. Are you two dating? Please don't hide anything from me," her mum pleaded.

"No mum. Like I said before, I'm helping him study. He's my friend and it's just a birthday party in a public place. Not a house party, don't worry."

"Dress warm. Wear those shoes with fur lining."

Nope, Norah thought to herself. It will be stuffy and hot in the club. Not to mention the alcohol adds extra warmth as it dilates the blood vessels.

"What about that red pencil skirt? From Prada?"

"My bum doesn't fit into it mum."

"You have such a cute butt!"

"Thanks mum," she mumbled.

"Ah... Norah-chan, I've got to go. I've got a yoga class. Help yourself to anything. But be classy. Mata ne."

On her first attempt, she settled on her own grey suede skirt, a peach coloured top, and would borrow mum's expensive blazer to match the color of the skirt. She went on to do her makeup and brush through her hair, when halfway through, she realised her outfit was looking less like a night in a bar and more like an interview at a fashion magazine.

In a way, her meeting Rafe's brother was already a form of an informal interview, but she had to pick something more appropriate for the night. And Rafe would probably make fun of her for looking so formal.

She went for her ancient French Connection dress and because she gained some height and a bit of weight; the dress clung too tightly to her body. It reminded her how painfully skinny she was three years ago and how much depression and anxiety brought her to watch her weight so she could fit into a size 0. She made a note to self to donate the dress.

She went for another risqué dress that her mum brought in Las Vegas. Her grandmother came in and saw the outfit. She blew out a whistle.

"Honey, is the birthday taking place at a brothel?"

Norah sighed in defeat and began unzipping the dress. "Close. It's in a nightclub bar type of venue. Trust me, this is what girls in my school wear every other day."

"What's the fuss? I've never seen you make such a big deal before. Look at you, you even did your make-up and let down your hair."

"Rafe's brother will be there. I need to make a good impression. I will apply for an internship this summer."

"Are you planning on sleeping with him?"

"Grandma, no!" She hissed, freeing herself of the tight dress.

"Well then, honey, you don't need to pimp yourself out. They'll give you a job no matter what."

"I'm not pimping myself out! I just—I want to look good. You know, it's a birthday after all," she said, her heart fluttering at the thought of Rafe and all his London friends being there. She felt like she needed to look good, to not embarrass herself and show that she too could be one of those girls.

After half an hour of debating with Joyce, Norah settled for a knee-length, black Roland Mouret dress that exposed her back. Her long black hair was loose and the makeup made her eyes pop and kept the lips neutral but glossy.

"Norah, I haven't seen you looking this good since..." Joyce thought, looking into space. Couple of seconds later she said, "well since your days in London I suppose."

Norah looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. It'd been too long since she dressed herself up and it was a good occasion to literally let her hair down. It felt good. The doorbell rang, and Joyce went down to open the door.

Throwing on a long black coat, settling into her heels, and grabbing her bag and Rafe's present, Norah went downstairs. Joyce was pouring Benny a glass of wine and as she walked down, Benny's eyes went as wide as saucers.

"Oh my god."

"Ta da," she said sheepishly. "What? Is it too much?" she asked as she saw Benny staring unblinkingly.

"You look gorgeous!" he spluttered as he came to his senses. "You look amazing—wait is that a Chanel bag?"

"It's mum's, I'm borrowing it for tonight," she replied, rotating the tweed bag to show all the angles.

"Did you raid your mum's entire closet? What's this dress?" Benny circled around her like a predator. After a couple of minutes showing each piece and accessory, Benny had a new admiration for Ayame. Norah promised to introduce them as soon as she was back in London. And to let him borrow a few bags.

"Aren't you two late for the party? You were supposed to be there an hour ago," Joyce said, as Norah poured herself a glass and sat back on the chair, checking her makeup again.

"No gran, we will show up when the party is in full swing. People by now are having a few drinks and breaking the ice. Benny and I will arrive when the fun is just starting."

She always had an aura of confidence in her, but tonight with the glamorous outfit and dramatic makeup, she felt like a totally different person. She caught Benny's gaze and slumped her shoulders slightly.

"Seriously, do you think it's too much? I want to make an impression on Rafe's brother, but I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard."

"I'll be honest with you, you will give quite a few people a shock tonight. But the good kind of shock," he said with a grin.

"Okay, good," she said.

"Rafe is going to be super duper impressed tonight," Benny said, wriggling his eyebrows.

"There's nothing going on between us," Norah said.

"You think his brother is as hot as Rafe?"

"I imagine so," Norah said.

"You think you and Rafe will make out tonight? You two have so much sexual tension, I can cut it with a knife."

Norah let out an outraged laugh. "No, we don't!"

"You do," Joyce chimed in. "But you would't know it if it hit you in the face."

Benny looked smug and clinked glasses with Joyce. Norah was not in a mood for an interrogation. Rafe wasn't attracted to her. He flirted with anybody in a skirt. It was just his charming nature and that sexy Italian machnoness.

Did she just refer to Rafe as an Italian macho? She shook her head.

"Well, I'm off to sleep. You guys have a good night. I mean it, enjoy your night. I'll leave some paracetamol and a bottle of water by the bedside. Benny, you're staying over, right? I'll leave the same for you. Goodnight. "

"You're an angel, Joyce. Thank you," Benny said and looked back to Norah. "I think tonight will be crazy."

"I hope not," Norah muttered apprehensively.