Mr. Big Shot by R.S. Grey EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: R.S. Grey
- Language: English
- Genre: Romantic Comedy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Scarlett
Big law is a phrase used to describe the country’s largest and most
prestigious law firms.
Here’s how to use it in a sentence:
All the top graduates from law school accept offers from big law.
Big law routinely dishes out the best salaries and bonuses across the
industry.
Now, this is how you’ll use it when talking to your therapist:
I cried every day I worked in big law.
Big law ruined my life.
If not for big law, I’d be [married, happy, well-adjusted, sober].
And here’s how I’ll use it starting today:
Oh, my first year at big law? It was a total breeze.
I made big law my big bitch.
My alarm buzzes on my nightstand, blaring for the half-second it takes
me to lean over and turn it off. The alarm wasn’t necessary. I’m already
awake; I have been for two hours. I’m standing beside my bed in an outfit
chosen with care and deliberation. The sales associate at Barneys was
popping Advil for a tension headache and rethinking her career path by the
time I made it to the register.
I’ve gone with cool ankle-length slim-fitting black trousers paired with
a belted cream blouse and the ever-popular Aquazzura bow suede pumps,
though I’ll stick with flats until I get to the office. For accessories, I have
my hand-me-down Cartier watch; clean, manicured nails; and diamond
studs in my ears—nothing else.
This must be what Batman felt like his first day on the job. I’ll bet he
took the time to run his Batmobile through a Mr. Suds the day before to get
the wheels squeaky clean. Tearing the tags off those brand-new combat
boots and stretchy nylon pants before clicking all those safety gadgets and
gizmos into place must have been quite the rush.
I feel the same flutter of butterflies as I gather my work bag, already
packed with everything I need and more. I walk outside, ready and raring to
tackle the day…just in time for a bird to poop on me.
I freeze and look down, suspended in shock. It takes me a moment to
register the white sludge dripping down the front of my blouse, headed
straight toward my trousers. Panic sets in with a great big belated rush. NO.
I was stalling at my apartment on purpose so I wouldn’t feel silly about my
extremely early arrival at the office, but now, NOW, I’m kicking myself for
not camping out in front of Elwood Hoyt overnight. I should have slept
under my desk. A little crick in my neck would have been nothing
compared to this.
It’s fine, I tell myself, trying to regain control of my heart rate; it’s
hovering somewhere near 190 bpm. I’ve careened right past cardiac arrest
range and I’m creeping ever closer to spontaneous combustion. I walk-run
my way back into the lobby of my apartment building and try not to cry as
the elevator seems to have newly gone on strike.
Fortunately, I had my entire week’s worth of outfits already chosen. A
quick change of my top to a black silk version and then I’m skipping down
the stairs, leaving the elevator for all the people who aren’t about to start the
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