Up until I turned nineteen, I had lived with my mother in New York. My life was that of luxury and class. My mother held the highest standards at all times. Even the maids had to have gone to Princeton or higher for her taste to be sated.
Then there was an accident, and my mother was killed. It was the hardest time for me. For the first time, I found I had to experience what I hadn�t seen before�Life.
I was sent to live with my father, the rough-but-classy millionaire, Hank Summers. He was to be the base and bane of my existence until I was married and on my own.
For the first month that I spent with my father, I basically stayed indoors in his Chicago condo. But now the summer has arrived, and he�s taking me to Devil�s Gorge. He is so excited about showing me the farm, and taking me to all of the parties.
I, however, am not impressed.
Devil�s Gorge, is basically the classiest place for horse lovers. I�ve never been that exposed to horses. My mother always believed that horses were for men or look, not for a proper young lady to ride like some type of ill-mannered prostitute.
But secretly, horses have always fascinated me. They are beautiful, sleek creatures with such strength, agility, and speed. I never understood how mother could see something that was so beautiful, and regard it with an ill eye. But then again, mother was a strange woman.
Devil�s Gorge, as I was saying, is the world where the rich come to play. The country clubs and racing stables are everywhere in the rich, bountiful land. It is proclaimed as one of the most exclusive paradises in all of the world. My father is one of the most feared and respected men in the history of Devil�s Gorge. Thus proving how much I am not looking forward to this summer.
What I mean by that, is that if I appear suddenly as the beautiful and mysterious daughter of Frank Summers, I will become the most sought-after prize. Thus providing me with countless suitors, none of which will look beyond my beauty or my name.
Basically, men.
My father, however, assures me that only the best of the best will be in my presence, and by the look on his face when he introduced me to the butler, I could tell that he meant it. My father, though he has never been there, has always been protective of what he views as �his property�. I have recently been informed by the maid, that I am to be viewed as his latest and possibly greatest acquisition. This all means one thing�Controlling fathers will be shocked to see what this man will do to protect his new �little girl�.
I�m almost positive that he�ll have already fed half the town a story about how my mother was a controlling rat who insisted on sole custody, and now that she has gone he has the right and ability to spend his every moment with the daughter that he loves so very much. I can�t begin to express what a lie this is.
First of all, my mother was hardly a controlling rat. She was a frigid woman at times, but only because of the standards by which she had been raised. She was responsible, polite, and well achieved. She was one of the first women in our family to ever attend university. She had insisted. Her parents might have protested originally, but my mother had been determined to learn.
My father, on the other hand, is a rather different story. He made it as far as high school, and then with his daddy�s permission, he dropped out and has since lived his life as an inheritance mongrel with loose morals and unzipped pants. What I mean is that my father shoots from affair to affair with little to no knowledge or regard for the women who he so effortlessly hurts. Basically, he�s your average man.
Now don�t get me wrong. I�m not saying I hate men. That couldn�t be farther from the truth. I�m just saying that I hate every man I�ve ever met. You know the kind I mean. The soon-to-be-rich-and-powerful-once-daddy-drops-dead kind of men. If I could find just one man in this sorry bunch of country club mongrels, I would be satisfied.
But I don�t know if the kind of man that I so desire exists.
The man I want to find is intelligent and classy, but not afraid to stay in bed all day. I want someone who can laugh and joke with me in public, without worrying and looking over his shoulder to see what the rest of the guests at the ball will think of him and his marriage.
But as I said before�This man does probably not exist in the bunch that my father will permit me to see.
So for now, I grin and bare it. One day I shall find something that is truly my own. Until then�I am left with Devil�s Gorge, my father, race horses, and rich bachelors and their over-bearing mothers.
Feel for me.
The Tale Begins...
�Buffy-darling!� My father called in his rich, powerful voice from where he stood on the front stoop of his luxurious mansion in the heart of Devil�s Gorge. The sparkle in his eyes as he showed me the land had almost been enough to make me laugh. He was so utterly pathetic in his attempts to make me treat him as my father, and my patience for his needs to sate the appetite for being a father, was almost gone.
I looked out the window of the limousine that wasn�t facing my father and shut my eyes. I took a deep breath. Come on, Buffy. You can do this. It�s not that big of a deal. If you got through a party with Anya Standfield and her fianc�, Xander, on the hottest day of summer when the air conditioning decided to break-you can get through this. It�s not that big of a deal. Just get out of the limo.
My little pep-talk encouraged me somewhat, and I allowed myself to put my hand on the door handle. I took another deep breath, and prepared to open the door to greet the world.
Unfortunately, two seconds before I was to open the door, it opened for me and a round face popped into my line of view.
That moment of surprise caused me to scoot back on the seat and let out a startled shriek.
The smiling face thought nothing of my alarm, and burst in to a full-out �Greeting of Kings�-as my mother would have said.
�You must be Buffy. It�s so great to finally meet you. I�m Geoff�s daughter. You know who Geoff is, right? He�s your father�s premier horse jockey. I stay with my father in the guest house on the back of the property. I�m so excited to finally meet you. I�ve heard all about you from my father and your father. Your father talks about you all the time, you know.�
I finally shook my head until it bounced back to reality. I stopped staring at the sparkling blue eyes before me and said, �I wasn�t aware that my father spoke of me to anyone. I thought I was a secret.�
Intuitively, I knew this girl posed no threat to me, so I started inching forward on the seat, to get out of the vehicle.
�Of course he talks about you!� The round face laughed. I thought I heard a snort amidst her giggles, but I wasn�t listening too closely. �You�re a secret to everyone off the farm, but around the barns-everyone talks about you. Your mother sends pictures and information to your father every month about you and your latest achievements. It�s like waiting for Christmas when we wait for the letters.�
She finally backed up and let me out of the vehicle. As I stepped out of the car and straightened up, she asked, �how is your mother, by the way? I hear she�s quite beautiful.-But then she�d have to be, if you�re related to her. You�re breath-taking.�
�She�s deceased,� I informed the girl bluntly. �But I�m still alive. And yes, she was quite beautiful.� I wanted nothing more than to be gone from this place. Gone from my father. Gone from this incessant girl. And gone from Devil�s Gorge.
�Oh, I�m so sorry to hear that,� the girl stopped talking for a moment. Then she brightened and said, �we�re going to be great friends-you and I. I can see that now.�
I attempted a smile, but I feel that it fell flat. Luckily, this girl was too oblivious to notice that. I smoothed the air by asking, �can I know the name of my new friend?�
She looked for a moment, as if I had slapped her, and then she burst in to a fit of giggles. �I can�t believe I didn�t tell you my name!� This time, I was positive that I heard a snort. I believe I may also have heard her choke on her giggles. She stopped laughing and said in that bright, cheery voice, �my father is always telling me that I forget to introduce myself, and I just start rambling as if I�ve known the person for years. He�s always saying to me that it�s very rude, and that I should know better.�
She giggled again.
As much as I didn�t feel like knowing this girl�Ever; I really did want to know her name. �Your name?� I asked her again.
She seemed confused, �huh?� she asked in a rather bored, unsophisticated manner.
I took a deep breath to keep from screaming at this idiotic woman, �your name? What is your name?� I hoped that she understood me before I started screaming at her. The last thing I needed, was to play the guessing game with her.
She giggled, and pulled on her long, brown hair. The hair simply hung all around her round face, and her
blue eyes just screamed her innocence. �My name. I get it now,� she laughed.
�Good,� I sighed. �What is it?�
She smiled, �my name�s Fred. Fred O�Keiffe. I�m the daughter of Geoff. You know who Geoff is. He�s the-�
�Premier horse jockey of my father�s horses,� I finished for her, shutting my eyes to check my anger and frustrations.
She smiled brightly, �wow. You took the words right out of my mouth! That�s exactly what I was going to say!�
I looked at her as if she was crazy, but tried to act normal as I said, �wow. You don�t say.�
Just then, my father made the kindest act to me that he had ever done. He saved me from Fred. He called from where he stood, �come along, darling! You can meet with Fred later.�
�Hello Mr. Summers!� Fred waved at him with a big smile on her face. She was waving so hard that I thought for a moment that I might get knocked into the mud.
�It was nice meeting you, Fred,� I told her. �But now, I really must be moving along.� With that said, I nodded and turned towards where my father was.
I walked over to him, and as I was walking, I heard Fred say, �she really is beautiful.�
I suddenly found myself wishing that I hadn�t worn such heavy clothing. The sun at Devil�s Gorge was so strong and heavy that I felt like I would melt. I was wearing some black pants, and a light, pink, long-sleeved sweater. I had my black jacket tossed over my arm, but now I wondered why I�d even bothered to bring it with me.
My long, blonde hair hung down my back; perfectly straight and calm. I also started thinking of elegant ways that I could wear it up. I loved having my hair down and long, but with the heat here, I was quickly realizing that it would be next to impossible to keep it without fainting.
I reached my father and he said, �well, darling, what do you think of Devil�s Gorge?�
I looked from him, to the long expanses of green grass and white fences. There were horses scattered her and there, but basically the land was just green. I looked back to him and sighed, �you�re enjoying this far too much, Mr. Summers. I do believe that.�
He sighed, �darling, I do wish you would call me father. Contrary to popular belief in New York, I desperately wanted to share custody with your mother over you. Please don�t despise me simply because she won out over me.�
�My mother would never deprive a righteous man of visiting his daughter,� I said firmly. �If anyone is to blame, sir, it is you. You and your loose morals and lack of emotions towards anyone but your latest female companion, and perhaps the bottle. Now, if you don�t mind, I am near death from the heat, and I wish to take a bath once I get out of these heavy clothes. So if you will have me shown to my room, we can pretend to be a happy family at a later point today.�
�Buffy-� he began, but I cut him off.
�Don�t worry, Mr. Summers,� I rushed to reassure him. �If ever we are around your rich, socialite friends, I�ll put on the act of perfection and call you My Wonderful father. However, until then, I do so wish to have nothing more to do with you for the afternoon. I shall see you at dinner, Mr. Summers. Good day.� I nodded politely at him, and then turned and went in to the large structure before me.
~~
About an hour before dinner was to take place, I heard a knock on my bedroom doors. I looked at the door for a moment, and then realized what had happened. It took me a while to figure it out, because I wasn�t expecting to be disturbed for at least another half an hour. I had been informed by my father that dinner was at eight.
I sighed and looked back down at my book. �Come in!� I called regretfully.
I had enjoyed my bath very much, and since then I had basically confined myself to my room. I was reading through some old poetry books that my mother gave me when she thought I was �old enough to appreciate them in full�.
I was surprised when I looked up after the door opened, and didn�t see my father. Instead, I saw a short woman with tanned skin and dark hair pulled off her face in to a pony tail. Her deep eyes were gazing at me in a friendly way, and she had a pleasant smile on her full, dark lips. She was dressed in a basic, cream-colored business suit that explained her job was incredibly serious.
�Hello,� I said with a slight frown. I could only begin to wonder what this woman was doing in my room.
She smiled again, �hello. You must be Miss. Summers.�
�Buffy,� I corrected her. �Everyone calls me Buffy.�
She smiled that dazzling smile once more and said, �so sorry. Buffy, then. I�m Willow. I reside in the south wing of the manor. I�m your father�s financial advisor and close friend. I was told of your arrival just a few moments ago, by your father.�
I tried to smile as I said, �splendid.� I knew that my every move was lacking for enthusiasm, but I couldn�t be bothered to care. I was miserable, and it was true that I was looking for a great amount of company in my misery.
�I know you wish not to be disturbed,� she said, taking a few steps towards me, �and I do apologize for the interruption, but I was told to deliver a message to you by your father, Mr. Summers.�
I wanted to say sarcastically, �what other father would I have?� But instead, I checked my hostility and asked, �what may the message be, Willow?�
She smiled softly, �he informed me that there has been a slight change in the dinner plans, and that he wishes for you to accompany him to dinner at a friend�s this evening.�
�This evening?� I finally gave her my full attention. �But I just got here! Surely he can�t want me to just adapt to what he wants me to be in not even one day!�
She sighed and stepped a bit closer, �I apologize on behalf of all of your father�s short-comings.�
I frowned and didn�t check my sarcasm now as I replied, �you certainly have a lot to apologize for, then.�
She surprised me by laughing and saying, �how right you are. How right you are.�
I took a moment, and then loosened my hate. I apologized to Willow, saying, �I�m sorry for the venting frustrations I�m giving you. However, my life hasn�t exactly been all that grand recently, and I am looking for someone to inflict torture upon. You seem like a nice woman, so I�ll forewarn you that I�m a nasty person when I�m miserable.�
She smiled and said, �it�s no concern, Miss. Summers.�
�What is it that my father wants from me?� My brow furrowed when I asked, and I imagined my face looked like I had just sucked a lemon, but I wasn�t too concerned for my appearance at the moment.
�He said that he wishes for you to join him at dinner at a friend�s home. Perhaps you�ve heard him mention this friend. The family name is D�Aestas, although they often just go by Destas.�
�I haven�t heard him mention them,� I said, getting to my feet and wandering over to the large, glass doors that led me out to the marble balcony that overlooked the gardens.
�Well, he�s a very close friend of your father�s,� Willow said, appearing behind me on the deck. �He has a wife named Chanelle, and two daughters: Harmony, and Darla.�
I turned to look at her, and she continued to speak.
�They�re heavy in to their horses, much like everyone else in this area, but they also have a high interest in the logging company that Mr. D�Aestas-his first name is William-inherited from his father when he died,� she explained, looking straight in to my eyes.
I found it hard to dislike this woman simply because she was associated with my father, so I found myself civil and polite all of a sudden.
�They also have a son,� she added.
�A son?� I quirked an eyebrow, and then realized how that made me seem. It made me appear man-hungry, and deprived of all male contact of any kind. �I mean�What�s his name? Perhaps I�ve heard my father mention him a few times.�
�I sincerely doubt it, Miss. Summers,� she assured me.
�Buffy,� I corrected her once more with a genuine smile this time-the first smile I�d had in a while.
She smiled back and continued on, �yes, Buffy, I sincerely doubt that you�ve heard your father mention their son. Their son is a bit of a �wild child�-as they may say. He�s bounced from girl to girl for many years, and never felt a twinge of emotion towards any of them. He�s dated them all, I assure you. Rich. Poor. Thick. Thin. Beautiful. Models. Actresses. His father doesn�t speak of him all that often, but apparently he is very proud of his son�s achievements.�
�Like what?� I asked, trying to sound casual, but surely failing miserably with my attempts.
She sighed, �well, he has a great mind for architectural design, I hear. I�ve never personally seen his work before, but I hear it�s quite magnificent. And then, of course, the more women you can get-the more friends you�ll have in this society.�
�I see,� I turned to look out at the gardens again. There was a moment of silence, and then I asked, �so what is his name?�
�Excuse me?� she seemed confused.
I turned to look at her. �This �Ladies Man�. Does he have a name? Or is he just a title?�
She smiled, �he has a name. A very suiting one, at that.�
I shrugged casually, �well, what is it?�
She smiled, �Angel.�
~~
My father, of course, had underestimated the amount of time that I required to get ready for a function such as that he had decided to make me attend this evening. Naturally, however, I did pull it off, and venture forth from my bedroom an hour later, looking as good as I thought I could in the time granted.
I had asked for Willow�s advice about what to wear, and had been thoroughly pleased when she had selected one of my favorite dresses. It was long, black, and sleek. The thick shoulder straps led to a low V-neck line. The dress was form fitting, but not over-revealing. It left quite a bit to the imagination, without making one ponder for too long.
Her selection of shoes had also been impeccable, and the way she had the stylists do my hair and make up made me wonder why she was wasting her talents around my father.
My father smiled brightly when he saw me descend down the grand staircase that led to the front doors of the manor. �Buffy, you look marvelous, my dear. You remind me so much of your mother.�
I almost laughed as I asked in amazement, �you mean that you�d actually remember?�
He smiled slightly, �my dear, I do not wish to fight with you every moment of our time together. Can�t we just be civil, warm and loving for tonight?�
I allowed him to put my black, see-through wrap on my shoulders, and then I glanced back over my shoulder at him and said in a wistful tone, �and all the days of my life.�
~~
�My dear, there is something that you should know about William D�Aestas� son,� my father said as the limousine pulled in to the long, winding drive way that led to the D�Aestas manor.
I smiled softly as I gazed out the window. �What�s that, father? That he�s a self-obsessive womanizer with an eye for architectural design and a hand for getting in to non-emotional relationships?�
He sighed, �I guess word travels fast.�
I glanced over at him and said, �there�s no need to preach. I�ve been forewarned of Angel. And trust me, father�There�s no need to worry. Men like that only get one thing from me.�
�And what�s that, my dear?� My father asked.
I smiled softly, turning my head to look out the window again. I sighed and said softly, �detest.�