Chapter 13

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I sat stubbornly on my couch, unsure of the direction I should take. To the left of me was the remote to resume my marvel movie marathon, which was highly attractive considering I had just made another bowl of popcorn. But on the right of me was my wallet, a subtle reminder that the charity event was tomorrow and I still didn't have a dress or a date.

Truth be told, I wasn't sure if I still wanted to go. I had had enough social time and excitement from last weekend to last me through the rest of this internship. If I managed to not screw up by limiting the places I went for the next month then I considered this a success.

But, on the other hand, I was forced to remember that I had come to New York to escape the demons of my past and try and build a new life for myself. And it was hard to claim that I had a "life" if I didn't actually have friends that I actively socialized with.

It's not like Gretchen was asking me to donate blood with her, bonding us for life. It wasn't something death defying like rock climbing. It was simply going to a rich party that I would never otherwise have had the opportunity to attend, and taking advantage of their open bar and luxurious amenities. Anybody else would tell me I was ridiculous to refuse such an offer.

My hand started to reach for my wallet.

Then the commercials on my giant TV finished and Chris Evans reappeared.

All morals and logos flew out my head.

My hand inched towards the remote.

RING A DING DING

I looked over from my dilemma to see my phone buzzing violently. My mother's contact photo of her blacked out in the pool float lit up the screen. I snickered, as I did every time.

My mother couldn't hold a candle to Chris Evans. I went to press decline, but the grease on my hands from the popcorn smudged the screen, pressing accept on the call instead.

My eyes widened.

The doors of hell had been opened.

"Alexa mother freaking Baker! I have called you so many times that I have your stupid voice mail from 10th grade memorized. Why the hell have you not been picking up my call?"

I grimaced. "To avoid this exact reaction."

"Are you kidding me?" She screeched. "You went to one of the most important conferences in the country and you thought I wouldn't expect to hear about it?"

"The news reports weren't enough?"

"Not when my daughter was the one leading the charge," she snarled.

"Technically everyone was represented equally," I muttered.

I'm sure if it were possible, my mom would have been strangling me through the telephone. "Technically because I was the one who got you this job and I work for the same company, you owe me a full breakdown."

I groaned. "Don't you get, like, official reports of these from somebody who actually cares?"

"No I have someone to read them for me," she deadpanned. "Now Alexa Baker lets hear it. I want to know everything and everybody who was there. What company were they with? Did they tolerate you? Did you try to speak to them? How much more successful are they? What were their views on the matter? Did they at least suppress their laughs when you have your speech? How much did you fuck up?"

"Hey!" I exclaimed, fed up of her demands. "I didn't screw up anything. Zane told me Monday that my remarks are going to be used in the official lawsuit."

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