Chapter 3: The First Evening.

The afternoon get-together continued with only Mia, seemingly not finding a friend or two to chat with. Several women tried, but her icy disdain swiftly chased them away. What was worse for her was that despite drinking several glasses of champagne, she didn’t become even remotely tipsy, and every sip seemed to send tingling sensations directly to her clitoris. Eventually, Mia decided she’d had enough and imperiously summoned Jim, the porter, over.

“For how long do I have to endure this bullshit?” Mia asked aggressively.

Purposefully misunderstanding, Jim replied evenly, “You may walk to the front desk and request a limo to take you home at any time. You’re not a prisoner here.”

Knowing that leaving would mean the death of her engagement to Joshua, Mia snarled, “I meant this ridiculous charade of a party.”

Jim answered in the same mild tone, “It’s not a party, but a chance for you to meet the other academy attendees and some helpers, porters, and assistants. You’re the only one who has not tried to introduce yourself and make new friends.”

“They’re beneath me,” Mia huffed. “There’s not a woman here who can compete with my looks and intelligence.”

“Perhaps not,” Jim replied. “Although, considering how we men’s attentions are divided amongst five or so genuine beauties, I’d say you have quite a few competitors. I’d also say those ten women all have better personalities than you.”

Mia turned her icy blue eyes on Jim. “And you can fuck off and all,” she said coldly. “You’d give your left testicle even to have the chance to sleep with me.”

“At the moment, I’d sleep with a brown snake before I’d sleep with you,” Jim replied. He looked at her levelly for some time before adding, “Joshua saw potential in you. The potential for a caring person to emerge from underneath your cold, uncaring shell. I saw that potential, too, which is why I volunteered to be your porter after every other one refused.”

Mia looked around the room at the men dressed similarly to Jim. Most were real hunks and probably younger than Mia, though not younger than most of the women in the room. “You’re saying the rest of the porters refused to work with me?” Mia asked, stunned.

“Yes,” Jim replied firmly. “To a man, they saw your photos and read your transcripts and said they were not interested.”

“But ... but,” Mia stuttered, “I’m gorgeous and can have my pick of men.”

“True beauty lies in what’s beneath,” Jim said. “What’s beneath that cold, hard, ice queen exterior, Mia? Is there a decent, caring person fighting to get out? Or is there nothing but more ice under the carapace? Your fiancé and I believe there is more beneath the shell. Will you prove us right or wrong?” He walked away.

Mia watched him leave, disbelieving. That fat old man had turned her down? Impossible! Mia knew she could charge thousands per night as a top-end escort because she had received that offer. Yet, this old, fat prick told her he would rather sleep with a snake than with her? Well, Mia called ‘bullshit’ on that! The problem was that Jim’s voice held an undeniable truth, and Mia recognised that at the moment he said it, Jim meant it.

Pondering Jim’s pronouncement, Mia looked around the room and compared their bodies and looks to hers. She studied the female attendants the closest and immediately realised that she was the only one with surgically enhanced breasts. Mia looked down at her barely concealed tits and remembered they were a solid C-cup even before she’d had them increased to an E. She wondered briefly why she’d done that, before remembering that men loved big-titted blondes. Which, of course, made Mia wonder if she even remembered her original hair colour. She was pretty sure she was a strawberry-blonde, but wouldn’t have taken bets.

Suddenly feeling a little insecure, Mia searched the room for a friendly face before spotting the woman she’d shared an elevator with earlier. ‘That tubby tart would love to have a hot friend like me,’ Mia thought, sliding off the stool and walking towards her,

Sarah watched Mia approach, hiding her disdain for the plastic-looking woman. She warned the others, “Looks like we’re getting company.”

“Hello,” Mia said sultrily. “We didn’t have the chance to become acquainted in the elevator.”

“That’s because you had your nose stuck so far in the air that I doubt you could have seen what was in front of you,” Sarah replied bluntly.

Mia blushed before turning and returning to her seat.

“That was harsh,” Sally protested.

“I’m sick of salad-eating, skinny plastic bitches treating me like I’m beneath them,” Sarah growled. “Maybe I’m a bit overweight, but plenty of men love a woman who has a few curves.”