Chapter 1

Buffy Summers sat in her little office and hung up the phone. She let out a slight squeal and caused her assistant, Willow Rosenberg, to glance over at her excitedly. “Did you get it?”

Buffy nodded, suppressing another squeal. “They had a designer drop out and I got the slot!”

“New York Fashion Week?”

“Mm-hmm!”

“Oh, Buffy! That is so awesome!”

“I’ve got so much to do!”

“You’ve got eight months till then.”

“But I’ve still got a lot to get done.” Buffy started to pick up some papers, but Willow placed her hand on them to prevent her friend from picking them up. “Wha….”

“You’ve got to celebrate!”

“What? Oh, Willow no….”

“Yes. You’ve spent enough time cooped up in here with bitchy celebrities and shiny pieces of fabric. Let’s go out tonight. I’ll buy the drinks.”

“Well, how can I pass that offer up?”

“Don’t be sarcastic. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Cordelia looked her sister up and down. Buffy had gotten their mother’s fair hair, pale skin, and short height where as Cordelia had gotten their father’s dark hair, tanned skin, and tall height. They looked like polar opposites and most people couldn’t peg them as sisters who were five years apart.

Cordelia was the older of the two. She was married to Xander Harris and they had two little boys, ages seven and three. Cordelia herself was an editor for Glamour magazine and Xander was an agent with a big time record company. Their jobs paid well because they knew their jobs better than anyone. Buffy and Cordelia’s fashion sense had come from their mother, Joyce Summers. She had been a model when she was younger and had started a modeling agency before a brain tumor had killed her.

“How’d you manage to get away from the house?” Buffy asked, adjusting her top.

“I told Xander to watch the kids and don’t wait up.” Cordelia replied, adjusting Buffy’s ponytail to a higher up, messier look. Buffy just rolled her eyes. Cordelia loved having control over everything and everyone around her. It had been a trait that annoyed Buffy since, well, birth. “Where’s Willow? It’s eight o’clock.”

“According to your ten minutes fast watch, it’s eight o’clock. By the rest of the world’s time, and that does include Willow in case you were wondering, it’s only seven fifty.”

“Well, the world should really take notes. Being early is the new being on time.”

“Cordy, you spend way too much time at the office.”

“No, Buffy. It’s a parent thing. You have to be early to everything.”

Buffy just smiled and let her sister primp in the mirror. The blonde was wearing a red, backless top with gold embroidery around the front. She had on black leather pants (those never went out of style) and tall, black, strappy, stacked heels. She looked good. And she had to admit that the messy ponytail worked. Cordelia was a little more matronly. But only a little. She had on a dark green halter top that tied at the neck and the base of her spine, leaving her entire back exposed. The Summers sisters had always had amazing backs. They could credit that to their father, the personal trainer to the rich and famous. He and his two daughters worked out twice a week. Cordelia finished off the look in a mid-thigh, denim cut-off skirt and knee-high, dark green, suede stiletto boots. Her hair was in messy curls. Messy hair seemed to be the way to go these days. Buffy didn’t pay attention to hair. She was the fashion guru.

The intercom buzzed and Buffy went over to answer the intercom. “I’m here.” Willow said. Buffy buzzed the door open and unlocked the door to her apartment. It was a nice loft apartment with three bedrooms, a huge sunken living room, a dining room, a spacious kitchen, and two bathrooms. Buffy’s room was upstairs in the loft part of the apartment. She’d decorated it in dark romantic colors like crimson and black and her furniture was a dark, muted silver color. It seemed like it would clash, but it really brought the room together.

“Finally.” Cordelia put another layer of lipstick on and turned to Buffy. She offered the lipstick to Buffy, but Buffy held up the Chapstick she’d been putting in her pocket. “I’ve always been jealous of that.”

Buffy wasn’t wearing much makeup. Just some mascara, a light brushing of bluish-silver eye shadow, and her Chapstick. “Cordy, you don’t need that much makeup.”

“I have to look good when I’m out. You never know who’s going to recognize you.” She said the last sentence pointedly to Buffy.

“I’m a behind the scenes gal.”

“Not after New York. The celebrities have taken notice of you and you’ve been featured in Glamour four times in the last five months. They’re calling you the next Vera Wang.”

Willow walked in. “Hi guys.” She was wearing blue jeans, a black tank top, and a little white military jacket with black boots. “Oh, I’m underdressed.”

“Just lose the jacket.” Cordelia said.

“You look fine, Willow.” Buffy said, shooting a glare at her sister. Willow had been in Buffy’s fashion design class and had only minored in it just because she and Buffy had become best friends. She wasn’t a fashion guru, but she wasn’t completely hopeless. After they’d graduated, Willow couldn’t bare to become the super genius doctor her parents had hoped for. She’d decided to help Buffy begin her clothing line. Willow’s parents had stopped complaining after she’d brought home her paycheck two months after Katherine Heigel had worn one of Buffy’s dresses to the Emmys.

“Where are we going?” Cordelia asked.

“I, uh….” Willow looked a little lost. “I didn’t plan anything.”

Cordy sighed. “We’ll go to Rain. It’s pretty happening right now. All the stars will be there.”

“Yippiee.” Buffy said sarcastically.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Buffy, Cordelia, and Willow stood by their table in the VIP section and looked down at the crowded dance floor. Cordelia had been right. The place was happening and full of stars. Buffy had already spotted three young Hollywood girls and two mid-thirties actors who didn’t look in their mid-thirties. But who looked their age these days anyway. It was, after all, LA.

“Does anybody want to dance?” Cordelia asked.

“I’m good right now.” Buffy said.

“Me too.” Willow said.

“Hey, didn’t you say something about drinks on you?”

Willow smiled. “That I will do. What do you want?”

“I’ll take an Island Splash.”

“Dirty martini.” Cordelia said.

“Coming right up.” Willow walked away in the direction of the private bar.

“So,” Cordy turned her dark eyes on her sister. “What are you planning tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked.

“There’s lots of hotties around this place and you’re a very single gal who….”

“Is a very busy gal. I don’t have time for guys, Cordy.” Cordelia sighed. She hated getting her goodwill shot down time and time again by her sister. “Don’t give me that look. I’m only 24. I’ve got plenty of time to get to where you are. I’m in no hurry.” Willow returned with the drinks, but they weren’t in her hands. “Uh, Will. We only wanted drinks.”

Willow smiled sheepishly. “They followed me.”

Buffy’s eyes drifted over the tall, dark, and handsome man holding her drink. He had dark brown eyes and dark brown hair that spiked up with hair gel. His skin was pale like alabaster and looked to be incredibly smooth. He had on black leather pants and a black silk, button up shirt. The top three buttons were left undone to expose some of the well chiseled chest underneath. His shoes were Italian leather boots by Versace.

The man was accompanied by two men. One was a tall, bald, handsome black man in crisp black pants and a white cotton T-shirt with a black, button up shirt that had black embroidery down the left side of it. The other man was shorter than his friends and his hair was short and scruffy. He had on a leather blazer with a white wife beater and a dark blue bowling shirt underneath and he had on dark black pants. He didn’t look as crisp as the other two.

Cordelia grunted at the shorter one who was carrying her drink. Buffy looked back to the tall, leather clad man. “I’m Angel.” He said.

“Buffy.” Buffy said, taking her drink and shaking his hand.

“This here is Gunn,” He pointed to the black man. “And that’s Doyle.” He pointed to the shorter one.

“Hi.”

“Forgive me. I saw you standing over here and I couldn’t resist. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“We were just going to go dance.” Cordelia said.

“No we weren’t.”

“Come on darlin’.” Doyle said in an Irish brogue. “It’ll be fun.”

“She’s married.” Buffy said. “Has two kids.”

“If you think that’ll stop him, you’re dead wrong.” Gunn said with a smirk.

Doyle nodded his agreement. “You still look amazing. Most women let themselves go.”

“Thanks.” Cordelia snapped. “Buffy. Dance floor.”

“Great.” Angel said. “Can we join you?”

Buffy couldn’t resist. His voice melted her like butter. “Sure.” She led the way down to the dance floor. Cordelia couldn’t leave her sister alone with Angel. The guy seemed like a player. Before Cordelia had met Xander, Angel was the type of guy she’d dated constantly. She wouldn’t let her sister get hurt like that if she could help it. Willow just followed behind. She didn’t want to be left alone. Gunn and Doyle trailed after them all.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Buffy stood with Angel back at her VIP table. Cordelia had had to go home. Xander had called with an emergency with the kids. Willow had opted to drive Cordelia home and then come back and pick up Buffy. Buffy had refused, saying she’d get a cab. She was having too much fun with Angel. He was buying the drinks and they were well past drunk. Gunn and Doyle had gone home early. Gunn had been the designated driver and Doyle had drank too much.

“So, you’re a designer?” Angel asked.

“Yeah.” Buffy said, throwing back another shot. “All the stars love me!”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“Hey!”

Angel smiled and leaned closer to be heard. “I’m kidding.”

“You know, they call me the next Vera Wang.”

“Who?”

“She’s a real famous designer.” Buffy tossed back another shot.

Angel mirrored her and then leaned in closer. “I’m sure you’re ten times better.”

“You wanna get out of here?” Buffy asked suddenly.

“Sure.” Angel grabbed her hand and hauled her away from the table. They headed out to the street and the bouncer hailed a cab. They made out the entire way to Buffy’s apartment, groping and fondling everything they could without going at it in the back of the cab. Buffy fumbled with her keys and finally managed to get the door open. They stumbled their way up the stairs to Buffy’s bedroom. Angel took a moment to admire the black, silk canopy over Buffy’s bed. “Nice.”

“Shut up.” Buffy pulled him to her and they collapsed back to the crimson, Egyptian cotton sheets of the bed. Angel’s roaming fingers felt amazing as her worked her clothes off. She had been right about the alabaster skin. It was exceptionally soft.

“You taste….” Angel muttered into her skin. The words trailed off as he licked the inside of her thighs.

“Jesus….” Buffy breathed as he worked all the right areas. After sending her over the edge in a slight screaming fit, Angel grabbed a condom out of his pants. He fumbled with it, too drunk to get his fingers to do exactly what he wanted. “Just do it already!”

“Fine!” Angel tossed the condom away. The back of his mind was screaming at him to stop, but he continued anyway. The alcohol and the lust were working against his better judgments. This hadn’t happened to him before. What the hell was different about this time?

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Buffy woke up with a splitting headache and the light hurt her eyes. She groaned and rolled over. Her face pressed against something crinkly and not soft. “What….” She reached out and grabbed the folded piece of paper. After taking a few minutes to focus, she finally managed to read the note.

Had a great time last night. Had to go to work.

-Angel

Buffy had to think for a moment, but then she remembered the night before. Well, some of it. It caused her to groan. What had she been thinking letting herself get that wasted and then bring home some random guy? Ok, some random hot guy. She hadn’t been thinking. The alcohol and the lust had done that for her.

Buffy groaned and rolled over. She fell right back to sleep, letting the note fall to the floor. In a matter of minutes, she was sound asleep again. At least she didn’t have to go to work that day.