Mr. Big Shot (Mr. Big 1)

"Oregon?" he said with a blatant look of disgust. "Who's from Oregon? How did you end up in Manhattan?"

I shrugged. "I got a scholarship to Columbia and NYU as well as several other colleges. I wanted to live in Manhattan. Columbia won out."

"Hmm," he said and glanced away like I was some bug he wanted to crush under his foot. "Well, we better mingle. Great to see you again, Luke. John."

He said nothing else to me, pulling his girlfriend along with him. I noted that she said nothing at all. She did, however, smile at me many times but every one of them seemed totally condescending.

"Wow, some great friends you have," I said tartly. "Am I wrong or was he really rude to me in an offhanded way?"

"He was really rude to you. He's a blue blood and thinks anyone who isn't of his kin are the dregs of society. I mean, who is from Oregon?" Luke said with a sardonic laugh. Then he turned to me, his expression curious. "So, you're from Oregon? How did your people end up there?"

"My people are still in Oregon." I shrugged. "My people came from Ireland to New York during the potato famine and then made the trek over to the West Coast during the gold rush days. They stayed. My great grandfather worked on the railway and then my grandfather after him. My father wanted to be a pilot and so he joined the Air Force back in the day."

"Salt of the earth," Luke said and held up his beer bottle. I tapped it with my bottle of 7-Up.

"The best."

"No, seriously," Luke said. "I mean it. I admire anyone who has a dream and follows it. Especially people who start from scratch or have some huge talent or smarts. Obviously, your father had some serious flying skills to make it into the Air Force as a fighter pilot. You're obviously really smart to get a scholarship to Columbia and be working on an MA in Political Science."

"And you excelled in selling comic books from a young age."

Luke laughed, genuinely pleased. "I can sell more than comic books, I hope. I’ve got a business I hope to sell to a big buyer next week."

God, he was so cute and handsome at the same time, with a hunk of a body and a boyish grin. Those blue eyes…

It was too bad he was a cheater on top of it.

"You could sell oil to the Saudis," John replied.

"Hopefully, I can sell Chatter to our investors."

"You will." John held up his bottle of beer. "I have faith in your mad skills, Luke. If you can't sell Chatter, no one can."

Luke shrugged, smiling like he was embarrassed at the praise. "I do my best."

"If you'll excuse me, I have to make a trip to the washroom," I said, deciding to take a break and freshen up.

"Okay," Luke said, but he grabbed my arm. "As long as you're not running off in order to escape my family, especially not when Felicia Blake is on her way…"

"No, honestly," I said and smiled. "I really do have to use the ladies.”

He nodded. "We'll be here."

Then I left the two of them and made my way to the washrooms, which were located at the far corner of the ballroom. I went inside the ladies and got in line to wait for my turn when Luke's sister walked in, her hand on her belly.

"Oh, hi," she said and came right over. "How are you holding up? Our family events aren't all that fun. A lot of stuffed shirts and silver-spoons, if you ask me."

I laughed, surprised that she seemed so honest. "Well, it does seem to be the cream of the Wall Street crop, from what Luke tells me."

"Bankers and more bankers. You'd think we had no imagination. I mean, who other than Neumann grows up and wants to be a banker?"

I laughed at her Seinfeld reference. "It sounds a bit dry, but that's maybe just me."

"No, it's dry. Believe me, it's dry. I've grown up surrounded by men talking banking and finance all my life. Dryer than the Sahara."

I smiled and looked at her very prominent belly, unable to resist. "So, congratulations. You must be very excited. When are you due?"

"Oh, thank you. We're over the moon. I'm due in about eight weeks. I've heard they let first time mothers go ten days past their due dates, so it could be almost nine weeks. I hope not. God, it's getting harder and harder to sleep at night."