Second of all, I inked the deal, not Charles Northcutt-fuck that guy-and I would like to rub it in his stupid face tonight.
It’s not only making my firm a shit-ton, but it’s going to anchor my position at Valdman and Associates, just in time for Valdman to retire and need someone to sit in that coveted corner office and count all the gold coins. And then I turn and face the crowd of milling wealth, sipping my Macallan and thinking about where to start first.īecause tonight is my fucking victory lap.įirst of all, I inked the Keegan deal this afternoon-which is this sexy stack of papers transferring a deserted downtown block of nothing to a New York developer-and my God, you would not believe the money these people have.
I give her the classic Bell dimple as I take a scotch from her, and she blushes. I know it, the valet taking my keys knows it, the girl working the complimentary bar knows it. Yeah, I know I look good as I step out of my Audi R8 and walk into the hospital benefit. Armani tuxedo, Berluti shoes, Burberry watch.īlue eyes, blond hair, a mouth a little too wickedly wide.
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