Mr. Big Shot (Mr. Big 1)

ALEXA: That, too. :)

I smiled and put my cell away, then returned to watching the street life as crowds on Broadway moved down the street around me, happy to be lost in their midst.

"What are you smiling about?"

I turned and there was Alexa, a grin on her face.

"You're here," I said, surprised to see her so soon. "I thought you were five minutes out."

She sighed audibly. "I was giving myself time to change my mind if I needed it."

I shook my head, my smile fading. "What are you so worried about? It's just an innocent slice of pizza…"

"Because it would be easy to just let things happen," she said and took in a deep breath. "And that would be a mistake. But then, I decided, what the hell. You only live once, right? Besides, Familigia's pizza is to die for, so…"

I put my arm around her shoulder. "Do you want to go inside or do you want to get a slice and walk along the street?"

"Let's sit," she said. "I went for a run and need a rest."

We went inside and waited in line for a table. The hostess told us it would be about ten minutes, and so the two of us stood in the entry way behind a line of hopeful customers.

"The line is small, considering what time it is. Usually, there's no way we'd get in."

"I know," she said, leaning against the wall across from me. "It must be a

sign."

"It must be." I smiled at her, my gaze moving over her from head to foot and back again.

God, she really was a pretty little thing. She was wearing a sweater that hugged her curves very nicely, with a deep cut v-neck that showed a bit of delicious cleavage. Beneath was a jean skirt and then some sandals. I felt very much like we were boyfriend and girlfriend going out for a meal together, and not a couple of frauds who met through a misspelled email and had pretended to be something they weren't.

If I wasn't going away on the catamaran for a year, I'd definitely want to keep seeing Alexa. She was so easy to be with, so funny and smart. I felt both excited to be with her and relaxed, like she was comfortable.

"I just got a text from John that didn't make me happy," I said, wanting to talk about the problems with the business deal.

"What?" Her eyes widened, concern for me clear on her face.

"Seems like Harrison Blake is considering pulling out of the deal. With him goes about one quarter of the money so they might have to wait until they find another backer."

“Harrison Blake of the famous Blake family, with the daughter who was in want of a wealthy husband?" She smiled at me, a playful expression in her eyes.

"The very one," I said and shook my head, still in shock that Harrison would consider pulling out merely because I wasn't into his sister. "I knew he liked me as her husband but I really didn’t think the deal rested on it."

"I'm so surprised at you super-rich people and the old-fashioned ideas you still have about marriage."

"You middle class people never consider money when you become engaged?" I said playfully, matching her joking tone. "You don't consider your would-be husband as a provider?"

She laughed. "We consider ourselves as providers. We have to think that if the marriage failed, we'd be expected to hold up half the sky, at least financially."

"Well, I guess my class wants to consolidate fortunes and carry on dynasties. That's the old money but I don't know what the nouveau riche think. Probably aren't as concerned with passing on fortunes, since they're so new."

"So your family must have been really upset when they saw me with you. Me, from Oregon. I mean, I’m not even nouveau riche and besides, who's from Oregon anyway? Your mother said as much…"

"When?"

She shrugged. "After I saw you with Jenna. She came up and told me that you and I were from different social classes and would never work."

"What?" I said, fuming. "That old witch. You have to know I don't believe any of that crap."