A/N: This is the first chapter of Just Business. This is the story of two unwilling people, reluctant to give up their love-em and leave-em ways. Read on and see what happens.

Chapter 1

"Hojo and I are through," Kagome declared as she stormed into her mother's catering shop on Main Street in Highland Park, Illinois. Kagome was livid. She'd just come from an embarrassing interlude with her ex-boyfriend Hojo Turner, in which he'd begged and pleaded for her to take him back, all because her mother had set up an ambush date. How dare the woman interfere in her private affairs? Tossing her purse and suede Dolce & Gabbana jacket on a nearby chair, Kagome strode to the counter. The jacket missed and fell to the floor instead. Oblivious, Kagome nearly stepped on it as she prepared for a face-off.

"Listen up, mother." Kagome spoke firmly and prayed her message got through. "I live my life according to my terms. And I will not be told how to live it. Especially not by you."

"Who's doing that?" Isabel Higurashi fired back. Leaning down, she picked up Kagome's jacket and placed it on the back of the chair.

"You are!" Kagome huffed with arms folded across her chest. "You seem to think you know what's best for me, better than I do." She reached out and snatched one of her mother's fresh baked goodies. "Well, I'm telling you, Mom, the days of you telling me who I can and cannot date are gone."

"Don't you think I know that?" Isabel handed her a napkin to prevent crumbs from falling. "All I'm saying is that Hojo was the perfect man. He's everything a woman your age should be looking for: good-looking, intelligent, charming, and stable. Girl, he was exactly the kind of man you need."
Kagome rolled her eyes in frustration. At twenty-eight, she already knew exactly what kind of man she needed and wanted. Her mother was using her breakup with Hojo as an excuse to focus on a larger issue: her job as a junior fashion buyer for Bentley's department store. Isabel had a problem with the choices Kagome had made, including those about her daughter's career. But that wouldn't change the fact that Hojo was not Kagome's soul mate.

Boring was what he was. She should have never brought him to dinner because in a few short months, Hojo Turner had managed to endear himself to the entire Higurashi family. He always showed up with flowers for her mother or brought his wealthy investment and developer buddies to her brother Souta's showings. His cronies alone helped keep Souta's photography studio afloat. Her family loved the man. So what was the problem?

Plain old chemistry.

There were no sparks with her and Hojo. When they'd made love, Kagome tried hard not to think of more exciting lovers. She'd had her share of men who knew how to please a woman in bed. And Hojo wasn't one of them. Several times, she'd had to fake an orgasm just to get him off her. The more she thought about, the more she realized she was just too much woman for him.

Blessed with smooth, creamy skin, almond-shaped blue eyes, exotically high cheekbones, and a size-six body, Kagome could have easily passed as a model. At five-foot-ten with killer long legs, she was strikingly beautiful; with her sex appeal, many men lined up at her door. And Hojo knew it, which could explain why he'd piled on the charm and the gifts. He knew she was way out of his league.

"Mother," Kagome replied with a mouthful of one of her mini cakes, "I know how much you like Hojo, but we were not meant to be and you're just gonna have to accept that."
"I don't have to do anything, young lady," Isabel stood her ground, all the while rolling delicate pieces of crust together for one of her French pastries, "You best remember who you're talking to."
A mere five feet with long black hair in an updo twist, her mother was a force to be reckoned with. Barely a wrinkle touched her fifty-four-year-old beige skin, and she still retained a size ten figure by eating well and living right. Isabel Higurashi was the model of success, whether she was in the kitchen baking pastries or out selling clients to Sunset Catering.

Dressed in Capri pants and a peasant shirt, her mother was more sophisticated than anyone Kagome had ever met. Kagome rarely went toe-to-toe with her.

"Oh, I remember," Kagome muttered underneath her breath.

"You could stand to learn a lesson from Sango, Netherland Rose Higurashi. That girl has a good head on her shoulders. She's found a good man to settle down and have a couple of babies with." Isabel patted her daughter on the back. "I would like a couple of grandchildren before I die, you know."
"Don't wish some little crumb-snatchers on me just yet. Kids will come eventually. All in due time."
Isabel laughed at the comment. "Time's-a-wasting."

"Oh, Mom, please. Women my age are having babies later and later. Right now I'm focusing on my career. I don't want to be tied down."

Isabel shook her heads in amazement. "Why did both my children have to inherit their father's creative gene?"
"Thanks a lot." Which parent is the one in the kitchen coloring pastries? She wanted to ask. Sometimes Kagome couldn't believe her mother could be so cruel. Isabel had to know how much Kagome's design career meant.

Besides, she wouldn't be a fashion buyer forever. Someday she would see her designs on a Paris runway.

Hours later, Kagome sashayed into the Park Avenue Café along Chicago's Magnificent Mile for lunch. Nestled among Chicago's elite department stores, the café served a great lunch or brunch and was one of Kagome's favorite places. Plopping down in a wrought-iron chair on the patio, Kagome waited for the arrival of her best friend, Sango Taylor. Recently engaged, Sango had a laundry list of details for Kagome to complete to launch the wedding of the season.

Wearing the latest Bentley's suede skirt, with a chocolate crocheted sweater and matching suede fringed boots; Kagome looked every bit the fashion queen. She had to; her job required her to look the part. A five-day regime in the gym with a trainer on cardio and weights, a brisk swim three times a week, and her staple diet filled with salads and no carbs assured that Kagome remained a size six.

She couldn't remember the last time she's indulged in a juicy cheeseburger; she couldn't afford it. She might gain weight. The fashion business was a tough, take-no-prisoners game and Kagome would not be left at the back of the pack.

Sango joined her several minutes later on the patio.

Five-feet-four with a curvaceous shape, short curly hair—her new look—and a vibrant smile, Sango was as cute as a button. And she finally knew it. Suddenly Kagome's once shy best friend was showing off her fabulous, voluptuous, God-given shape in form-fitting designs, and giving Kagome tips on how to keep a man. How could that be? Meeting Miroku Taisho, a wealthy banker, had been the best thing to ever happen to Sango.

After giving the waitress her order of a mandarin chicken salad, Kagome turned to face her best friend. "So tell me," Kagome asked, "what do I have to do in my role of maid of honor besides throw you an off-the-chain bachelorette party and bridal shower?"
Well…" Sango twirled her napkin around in her hand. "There's nothing to it really. You just have to help me pick out my wedding dress and finalize the invitations, the plaza, the food, the photographer, flowers, and the guest list."
"Wait a second!" Kagome exclaimed, holding up her hand. "What have I signed up for?"
"I need all your support and fashion sense. This is going to be quite an affair if Miroku's parent's have anything to say about it."
"Don't worry." Kagome leaned over to give Sango's shoulder a firm squeeze. "I won't let you down. You know I'll design you the most fabulous dress you've ever seen. Look no further for your photographer because Souta is by far the best around and my mom would be more than happy to cater your big day. See," she said as she patted Sango's hand, "the Higurashi family has got this whole wedding sewn up."
"What would I do without you?"
Kagome raised her shoulders. "I wouldn't know. Some of us aren't so lucky to meet our Mr. Handsome, Rich, and Successful right off the bat. Some of us have to work at it."
The waiter returned with their salad plates and set them in front of the women.

"I'm sorry, Kagome. I didn't mean to monopolize our lunch conversation with all this talk of weddings and the like, especially since you just broke up with Hojo."
Kagome put a forkful of mandarin chicken salad in her mouth and munched. "On paper, Hojo was perfect. But he just didn't thrill me. You know how you get butterflies in your stomach with the right man? How you light up when you're around them? Well, Hojo had the exact opposite effect on me. When he came around, I cooled off. I just needed more man than him."
"You need a man that can challenge you." Sango volunteered, picking at her salad. She hated rabbit food, but she had to eat it. Maintaining her current weight was important if she wanted a killer wedding dress.

"Yes." Kagome nodded her head in agreement.

"Someone who you're compatible with intellectually as well as physically."
"Absolutely!"
"Someone who is confident and assertive, someone who's completely sure of himself."
"Hmmm…"
"Someone ambitious and successful in his career. Someone who's going places."
"Amen!"
"Someone who can thrill you, please you, tease you."
"Yes!" How did Sango know exactly the kind of man she wanted, but had yet to find? "Know anyone like that?"
"Maybe," Sango replied.

Kagome slapped her hand. "Spill the details. Have you been holding out on me? Who is he? And where have you been hiding him? Have you been keeping him on the side just in case things don't work out between you and Miroku?"
Sango laughed. "Kagome, please. Miroku is all the man I'll ever need."
"Then who is he?"
"He is Miroku's best friend, Inuyasha Thiamin. Actually, he prefers to be called Inu."
"And you kept this a secret?"
"So you'll agree to meet him if I set everything up?"

"I don't know, Sango."
"Listen, if it'll take some of the pressure off, we could make this a double date. Miroku and I could join you. How about that?"
Kagome's gaze rested on her best friend. Sango looked like a kid on Christmas morning who'd just come down the stairs to discover a mound of gifts under the Christmas tree. Sango's eyes beseeched her pleadingly.

Kagome relented. "Okay, okay. But only if you guys come along to chaperone. That's the only way I'll be able to tolerate a blind date."
"Deal," Sango said. "I'll set up everything."
Famous last words, Kagome thought. What had she gotten herself into?

"Todd, could you hand me tonight's menu?"

Inuyasha's bartender left the bar, where he'd been wiping out glasses, and disappeared into the kitchen to consult the chef.

Inu wanted Chef Gaultier to create spectacular culinary masterpieces for tonight's specials. Several important athletes planned on stopping by his nightclub, Millennium, and everything had to be perfect. Celebrities required a certain amount of finesse and hand-holding and Inu was skilled at providing it. Whether he was talking social issues with a politician, smoking the finest cigars with a wealthy businessman, or dancing the night away with a new starlet. Inu had it all under control.

Todd reentered. "Inuyasha, Evan DuBois is on the line. He wants to confirm your dinner appointment. Do you want to take the call?"
"Absolutely." Inu accepted the phone. "Evan, it's great to hear from you. Are we still on for dinner?"
"Yes, we are," Evan Dubois responded from the other end. "David and I are looking forward to hearing more on your ideas for a second club."
"And I look forward to presenting them," Inu replied.

"See you then."

Hanging up the receiver, Inu let out a resounding "Yes!" He was finally on his way.

Later that day, Inu got ready to shower and dress for the evening in his loft above the club. The loft was a great investment. It provided him a low overhead as well as all essentials: stainless-steel kitchen, living room, bedroom and adjoining bathroom, and a separate entrance for all those late night rendezvous. Wouldn't do to have people in my business, he surmised.

The loft was minimally decorated, as was the case with most bachelor pads. His living room housed a padded leather sofa, lounge chair, and of course, the typical entertainment media setup: a media cabinet held a fifty-inch plasma screen TV, a home stereo system with surround sound, and his Xbox 360.

Inu's favorite room was the step-up bedroom with king-size platform bed and royal blue satin sheets. Inu loved the feel of those on his skin. But his most prized possession was the mahogany-stained wine bar his mother had given him as a 21st birthday present. It held more than fifty bottles of wine and allowed him time to slowly build his collection of chardonnays, merlots, Rieslings, pinot noirs, and cabernet sauvignons,

The loft's best feature was the hidden window in the living room. It gave him a bird's eye view of the club and from what he could tell; it was already filled to capacity. The warm weather in Chicago always caused natives to get restless after a long, cold winter.

When Inu turned on the shower and then went downstairs to his bouncer to confirm, Lawrence indicated that people were already lined up around the block, eager to be one of the select few allowed entry into one of the hottest clubs on Chicago's North Side.

A mixture of high end supper club and hot dance club, Inu always wondered what kept people coming back for more. Was it the food, all hand-selected by the best chef in Chicago, Jean Paul Gaultier, or the music, on the high quality sound system, or the ambience from the fine interior lighting, or the crowd of beautiful people that frequented? Whatever the reason, Millennium was one hundred percent class. And Inuyasha would continue to keep it that way by trying out new entertainment avenues, be it poets or new comedians. Inu smiled inwardly. He'd come a long way from the boy who'd hidden under the shelter of his mother, father and siblings. Ever since he'd made it to Harvard, on scholarship no less, he'd begun to shed the shell of family. Majoring in finance, he'd earned his bachelor's and made his mom proud. But being a Wall Street type wasn't in the cards for him.

Sure he'd tried the nine-to-five routine, but found it completely unfulfilling. After two years, he'd chucked his career in the fast paced world of trading to head out on his own. And as luck would have it, he had a little bit of business acumen.

The club had fallen into his lap after the previous owner defaulted. He got the place at an auction and never looked back. In a short time, Millennium had become a major success and was still going strong. Inu couldn't be prouder of his little baby.

After the shower, Inu stepped out and passed a mirror on the way to his bedroom, pausing to admirer himself.

Tall and lean, he wasn't too bad to look at. The free weights and five hundred crunches every day helped. Turning side to side, he didn't see an inch of flab on his slim waist and tight abs. And the face—Inu gave himself a wink as he stared in the mirror—was perfection. The ladies loved the golden eyes that glittered out of his tan face, his father's eyes, the high cheekbones, and the roguish hair, flowing to his shoulders he kept his long white locks pulled from his face into a low ponytail. Every one had always told him he was his mother's child, and for the longest he had basked in that. All of his other siblings, male and female, besides Ileana, looked like their father. But now, he longed to be free of his mother's shadow, and he was finding that hard to do. Shaking his head, Inu continued on his way.

Walking with a towel wrapped loosely around him, he headed towards his closet. When he stepped inside he immediately found what he was looking for: tailored black slacks, a black silk shirt with diamond cuff links, and his Armani watch. The finishing touch of cologne would have the women panting.

Checking the time, Inu decided to grab a bite to eat. He rarely cooked unless he was preparing something special for his parents.

The phone rang on the nearby countertop. Rushing over, Inu leaned down to pick it up. He hoped it wasn't something at the club. He was grooming the manager to take over his daily responsibilities so he could focus on expansion. Inuyasha reached the phone seconds before the answering machine kicked in. "Hello?"

"Hey buddy, where ya at?"

It was his best friend, Miroku Taisho, whom he'd know since they were both in the womb. Their mother's were best friends as well, having had to fight the same demons for years, figuratively of course. He loved Lana Taisho almost as much as he did his own mother. The only difference was that Miroku was a month older than Inuyasha. At six-foot-two, with cream colored skin and his father's violet eyes, Miroku was Inuyasha's partner in crime, but after meeting Ms. Fine Sango Taylor last year, Miroku had abandoned the single life in favor of a wife and family.

"Sorry man, I was getting ready." Time had gotten away from him. He'd invited Miroku to the Millennium for the VIP party with the Chicago Bulls players.

"Well, stop primping and get your pretty butt down here. I'm already on my second beer."
"All right, all right. I'll be downstairs shortly."
"Now Inuyasha—you know how much you love staring at yourself in the mirror." Miroku laughed at his own joke.

"Ha, ha, ha," Inuyasha said sarcastically. He couldn't help it if he liked to look good. In his business, appearance was everything. "I'll be down in a few."

He found them congregated at the bar having Heinekens and the fat Cuban cigars he kept at the bar solely for their benefit.

"Gentleman." He came alongside Miroku and shook his hand. "How are you, man?"
"He's on cloud nine." His friend Shippo Frye proclaimed, pointing to Miroku. Six-foot-three with tawny skin and a pencil thin mustache, Shippo was a major hater of marriage. "He's about to marry his little princess."
"That's right!" Miroku smiled. "Sango is everything I've ever wanted.

Inuyasha laughed at Shippo's comment. Having all met in Harvard, everyone was close friends. While Miroku and Shippo continued their education—Miroku in business school and Shippo in law—Inuyasha had struck out on his own. His mother had always called it that streak of independence he'd gotten from his father. His Aunt Lana had snorted and called it 'that streak of dumbass.' He'd known an advanced college degree was important, but he couldn't bear anymore schooling.

Meanwhile he'd maintained a relationship with Miroku and Shippo—now a junior partner at his father's firm.

"We all can't be as lucky as you," Shippo commented. "Look at me, I have a woman like Kirara and I still can't commit. The thought of marriage scares the living daylights out of me."
"Ain't that the truth," Inuyasha agreed.

Shippo had given a new meaning to the word commitment phobe. He'd been in a serious relationship with his girlfriend Kirara for nearly seven years and had yet to propose. From the outside looking in, Shippo had it all. With close-cut hair, the body of a quarterback, and sizzling green eyes, Shippo dazzled many a woman.

"I can't imagine there's a woman who could capture my heart," Inuyasha admitted freely.

"You just wait, Inuyasha," Miroku said. "One day you're going to meet the one."
"This I would have to see," Kouga Armstrong declared. Kouga was the husband of Ayame, Inuyasha's longtime nemesis. Although they loved each other, neither Ayame nor Inuyasha could stand to be in the same room for long without arguing. "You know Inuyasha's got a block of ice where his heart is."

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you, being married to the original ice queen." Inuyasha returned.

"Easy, boys," Miroku reprimanded.

"I'm not the one who's had too many drinks," Inuyasha replied.

"Let's not start tonight." Shippo had a Kirara free weekend ahead of him, and he intended to have fun.

Inuyasha looked at Kouga, whose chest was puffed out several miles wide, and laughed it off. It wasn't worth the drama. "All right, let's squash it. Listen, I've got a girl group singing on stage later tonight. I'm sure that'll set the mood."
"Now that's what I'm talking about." Shippo took a swig of beer. "Let the games begin."

The night was a success. The music vibed, the wine flowed, and the food was out of this world. The Chicago Bulls VIPs left feeling like they were still the salt of the earth despite not having won a championship since Jordan retired.

Only Miroku remained and helped Inuyasha close the shop. He'd had to call a cab for both Shippo and Kouga. Both of those guys had had a little too much to drink. Inuyasha was sure he would hear from Ayame in the morning, giving him hell for getting her husband drunk. As long as they'd known each other, Ayame loved to give him grief. Maybe she thought he remembered how she looked when she, her brother, Miroku, and he were in diapers running around in a playpen.

"That was some party," Miroku remarked as he pushed in the chairs scattered across the floor. "Those guys can't hold their liquor worth a damn."

"So true, so true."
Miroku grinned. "What's up with you anyway? You seem more subdued than usual." Miroku had noticed that Inuyasha hadn't actively sought out any of the women roaming the club that evening.

"Did you notice most of them? They probably couldn't hold a conversation if their life depended on it."
"Sounds like your bored with the women you've encountered. Perhaps it's time you looked for a woman of substance."
"I have. They just have to understand that I'm not looking for marriage and all that."

"Hmm." Miroku grabbed some beer bottles from a nearby cocktail table and threw them in the trash. "So these women want more of a commitment than your standard fare."

"Yeah. Once I've been with a woman for a while, all of a sudden they get clingy, wanting to spend all their free time with me. And you know I like my space."

Miroku nodded. "This I know. But eventually you're going to have to open yourself up to the right kind of woman."

"As if such a woman ever existed." Inuyasha laughed from behind the bar as he counted up the night's tally.

"Trust me, it's possible." Miroku was a firm believer in true love. "You never know, Inuyasha. Sometimes love strikes when you least expect it."
"Yeah, well, I'm not the lovey-dovey type."

"You might be." Miroku rubbed his chin. "Matter of fact I think I have the prefect woman for you."
"Miroku, does it look like I need a blind-date?" Inuyasha asked, throwing the bank bag in the safe behind a painting of his mother's. He would make a deposit tomorrow morning.

"No, but then again…you haven't met Kagome Higurashi."

"Besides being absolutely gorgeous, with a goddess body, she's smart, quick-witted, and vivacious."

"She's all that, huh?"
"And then some. You should let me hook the two of you up."
"Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this Kagome?"
"No reason," Miroku said. "She's a friend of Sango's. And finally, after all these months, it looks like you might be available."
"I don't do blind dates."

"Yes, I know, but Kagome is different, she's a challenge. And don't tell me you don't like a challenge! Come to dinner and then you can decide from there. Sango and I will be there as buffers."
"I don't know."
"What can it hurt? The evening is on me."

Reluctantly, Inuyasha agreed. "You know I would never do this for anyone but you."
"And you won't regret it," Miroku countered.