There were whispers surrounding me. Of course, there were always whispers when I went somewhere. It never failed that there was someone who knew my name and had their opinion of me.
"Meredith Sanderson is a spoiled brat."
"Meredith Sanderson is only famous because of her parents."
"Meredith Sanderson sleeps with everyone just to keep her name in the tabloids."
"Meredith Sanderson has a drug problem."
"Did you see what she was wearing?"
"She needs to eat. She looks so thin."
Yes, everyone thought they knew my story. But they had no idea.
Being Meredith Sanderson was a task most days. My father owned a chain of 5 star hotels that were all over the world. I was immediately compared to the likes of Paris Hilton and Ivanka Trump. And even worse, Daddy's rival's daughter. Beverly Madison. But I wasn't like any of them.
I hated cameras. I hated parties. I was much more content to spend an evening at my house with a book than walking a red carpet or drinking my face off with Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan. That life didn't appeal to me. Not at all.
That's why when I walked down the streets and heard the quiet whispers or seen the stares of all those who thought they knew me, it hurt.
I had always been quiet and reserved, seen and not heard, in the background of all of daddy's tabloid photos. It wasn't enough that he owned every hotel imaginable, he also had to have an affair with my childhood nanny.
I was 7 when my parent's divorced. And despite my father being unable to keep it in his pants, I was an only child.
I was alone for the most part of my childhood. I, of course, had scheduled play dates when mom would go get her botox injections or her 6th rhinoplasty on daddy's dime. Otherwise I was alone with the nanny.
My nanny was okay, I guess, but she spent most of her time with her nose stuck in her phone instead of paying attention to me.
That was with mom. With dad it was even worse. I spent summers at his beach house in Laguna, where I was forced to socialize with whatever wife he was on at the time and to spend nights alone while they were out at event after event.
I done a lot of reading those summers. Perhaps that was why I had graduated at the top of my class and got into a prestigious school. Still, that life hadn't appealed to me either. I finished college and set out to make something of myself. Something other than being the daughter of Brock Sanderson.
Plans derailed at 24 when I couldn't get a 'regular' job to save my life. Honors and good grades don't matter when your dad owns the world. Any job I got was a ploy to get to him. I was forced to take over as the chairperson of daddy's charity foundation. We held banquets and gatherings, auctions and soirees. It may have been with my father, which I hadn't intended, but I was damn good at my job and I made my own money. Daddy was never a fan of 'giving' his children anything. All that I had, I earned.
I had arrived early to this particular auction tonight. It was 7pm and most guests wouldn't be here until 8. I had to see that everything was in order, even though daddy assured me that we had staff for that.
I checked our guest list and curled my nose when I saw Beverly Madison's name on the list. Daddy liked to invite the Madison's to events like this just so he could outbid them and show them up.
Tonight would be particularly interested because we were auctioning off a 'dinner date' with a celebrity. Some of Hollywood's most elite were donating their time to help the orphanages in California.
