Ruben Palmer is on every woman's Christmas wish list. Except mine. I grew up with him and bested him in practically everything we did together-debate, grades, mini-golf, you name it. So I've built an immunity to his boy-next-door charm. Sure, sometimes I might accidentally type his name into my search engine, but his dimples, hotel empire and thirst-trap photos don't tempt me. I've got my sights set on earning my way to the top of...