Chapter 2....

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I hated packing. There was just something about it that I hated. I loved going on the trip but having to somehow fit outfits, shoes, makeup in a suitcase was the bane of my existence. And don't get me started on having to re-pack coming home when you somehow have even less space.

I was currently sitting on the floor of my bedroom with my suitcase on my bed, over flowing with clothes. I was taking a break drinking wine before I tackled folding it all and trying to make it fit. I was more than tempted to put it all on the floor and deal with it tomorrow but I knew I was just putting off the inevitable.

Tomorrow was going to be a busy day making sure everything at work was settled while I was gone. I had a few clients that I still had to call to inform them I'd be gone for a week. So packing tonight would be the smarter option for sure.

My phone ringing jerked me out of my stare off with my suitcase. I didn't look at my phone as I hit answer.

"Hello?" Thinking it was either Josie or one of the girls.

"Tasha." The voice belonging to neither of those options. I sat up straight and gripped my wine glass a bit tighter.

"Mother." I couldn't remember the last time I talked to my mom or dad. It's not often one of them reaches out.

"How have you been?" Normally that kind of question would come with actual curiosity from people but not my mother. No, it was more of a curtesy to ask but came with an underlying meaning of 'I don't really care'.

"Good I-" I started to answer when she cut me off.

"You won't believe who your father and I ran into the other day, Ryan-" My mother went off about some son of a wealthy business man that I had the displeasure of meeting a few times.

Back in the day my parents would drag me to socialite events, forcing me to interact with people my age that had rich parents like my own. Something I despised. I hated being paraded around by my parents, like I was some prized toy.

My parents cared more about how people saw them on the outside than anything else. Didn't care their only daughter was miserable. Didn't care she only wanted their attention, not their money.

Not wanting to go down that hole right now I pinched the bridge of my nose and interrupted my mom.

"Why did you call mom?"

"I can't call and talk to my daughter?" We both knew that was a lie. She didn't call just to talk to me. She wouldn't listen even if I did speak. "I wanted to see if you would be attending our yearly gala in a month." Ah there it is. I knew there was a reason behind this phone call seeing as its been ages since we last spoke.

I had forgotten about the gala my parents threw every year. It was suppose to be some charity gala but it really was a 'party' where the wealthiest socialites of Toronto got together to talk business and flaunt their money. For me it was a party where I had to wear a suffocating gown and make stupid small chat with people that looked down their noses at everyone.

My mother worded it like I had a choice in going. I didn't. I was expected to go every year. Robert and Jennifer Davis, couldn't have their only daughter not show up to the biggest socialite party of the year. With them having the biggest law firm in Toronto there were expectations that I had to uphold. This gala being on of them.

"I'll have to see about work."

"Your still working at that place?" I didn't miss the distain in her voice as she spoke about my job. A job her nor my father fully approved of. They wanted me to come work for them at their law firm. When I told them no I disappointed them to no end, something they loved to remind me of whenever we spoke.

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