Tiffany: Didn't you hear what I said? Stop taking steps toward my table!
Martha: I heard every word you said, Tiffany.
Brenda: Oh, let the old woman speak for two seconds, Tiffany. It's embarrassing to watch this scene.
Tiffany: Stay out of this, Brenda! She ruined my engagement party, and now she's ruining my birthday!
Martha: I came to your engagement party because you asked me to bring your father's original trust documents.
Tiffany: And you brought them in a beat-up plastic bag! You made us look like complete hillbillies in front of Greg's wealthy parents!
Greg: Honest to God, Tiffany, my parents didn't even care about the bag.
Tiffany: I cared, Greg! I spent ten years climbing the corporate ladder to build a high-status life in this city!
Tiffany pulled her napkin off her lap and threw it onto her plate, her red lips curled in disgust.
Tiffany: I won't let a retired seamstress ruin my reputation among the town's elite!
Martha: A retired seamstress who worked eighteen-hour shifts to pay your tuition at that private academy.
Tiffany: You love bringing up the past, don't you? You think paying tuition gives you a lifetime pass to barge into my mansion whenever you want!
Martha: I paid for this mansion's down payment, Tiffany!
Tiffany: You gave me a small loan that I already paid back with interest! You have zero legal claim to this house or my life!
The guests around the table exchanged nervous looks, pulling their wine glasses closer to their chests.
Brenda: Tiffany, maybe you should take a deep breath. She looks pale.
Tiffany: She looks pale because she knows she lost her grip on me! She can't control my bank accounts or my marriage anymore!
Martha: I never wanted to control your money, child. I only wanted you to remember where you came from.
Tiffany: I came from a small, dingy two-bedroom apartment that smelled like damp wool! I worked my way into a five-million-dollar estate!
Martha: You didn't work your way up alone, Tiffany. Your father gave up his health in that factory so you could have a head start.
Tiffany: Don't you dare bring Dad into this! He passed away ten years ago, and he has nothing to do with your behavior tonight!
Martha: He has everything to do with tonight, Tiffany. Because before he passed away, he made me promise something about your thirty-fifth birthday.
Tiffany crossed her arms, letting out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed through the high-ceilinged room.
Tiffany: Oh, please! What promise? Another lecture about family values and humility?
Martha: No. A promise about the legal title to the company you think you own outright.
Tiffany: I own eighty percent of the corporate stock! You gave me your voting shares when Dad died!
Martha: I gave you conditional voting rights, Tiffany. Read the back of this card before you speak another word.
Martha took another step forward, her shadow stretching across the polished hardwood floor as she raised the thick envelope into the light.
Tiffany: I don't need to read anything from you! Get out of my sight before I have Greg physically throw you out!
Greg: Woah, leave me out of that, Tiffany! I am not touching your mother!
Tiffany: Fine! Then I'll throw her out myself!
Tiffany grabbed her wine glass and slammed it onto the table, stepping aggressively around her chair toward Martha.