Hi! So, I'm new to , but certainly not new to fan fiction. This fic was inspired by the novel, The Luxe, by Anna Godbersen and Iam really excited about it. I've been working on it for awhile, so I will be able to update often, but I want to see if there is anyone interested.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Those are Shonda's.

Please, enjoy and review. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Chapter 1

Music swelled up to the ceiling of the adorned ballroom, sweeping the dancers' feet up with it. Women in yards of silk and tulle and men in their tails spun in an elegant waltz, as several people without partners stood off to the side or sat in the open drawing room connected to the ballroom. The debonair Derek Sheperd was one of those standing of to the side, surveying his father's immaculate ballroom, amazed at how large of a party his mother could pull off. His eyes rested on a young Addison Montgomery, his soon-to-be-announced fiancé. He heaved a sigh, as he watched her laughing with her friends, her emerald green dress making her skin look ivory, it's dangerously low neckline making every man in the room salivate. Except for Derek. He thought it made her look cheap, even though he knew it cost her father thousands of dollars. To him, she looked like one of the whores in the cheap bars on the South Side, with her breasts almost popping out of her dress and way she was swinging her hips. Addison flipped her ginger hair and caught his eye, a slight smile toying at her lips. He grimaced towards her and looked away, disgusted at how his future was going to end up. He wanted so much more, but this was what he was stuck with; taking over his father's company and marrying a woman that he would never grow to love. He heaved another large sigh.

"I think you need another glass of champagne, my good sir. You look far too proper," Mark, Derek's best friend said as he came up behind him. Derek turned and smiled at him.

"Mark, you know this is not the night for me to be getting drunk, what with my marriage proposal being announced," he said, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

"I would say that this is the best night for you to be drunk. It'll make the thought of being tied down easier to swallow."

Derek turned back and looked at Addison. "Do you think I'll be happy with her?" he asked, forlornly.

"I can't answer that, but I do know your wedding night will at least be fun."

"I'm not even going to ask," Derek replied as he looked at Mark, slightly disgusted. Addison was one of those whores. He looked towards the stairs at the entrance of the ballroom and drew a sharp breath. His eyes soaked in the most angelic sight he had ever seen. A woman, dressed in a royal blue satin and lace gown that hugged every single wonderful curve she had. Her soft, golden locks flowed down her back and seemed to glow in the light, creating a halo around her beautiful face. Her sea green eyes pierced deep into Derek's soul, as he imagined her plump, yet delicate lips crashing onto his. His eyes grew dark, as he imagined much worse, yet much more beautiful things that he would do to her, if he ever got the chance. And he would make sure he got the chance. He watched her walk through the room, mingling with the guests and being the picture of perfection.

"What's wrong with you, old boy?" Mark asked as he waved a hand in front of Derek's eyes. Derek shook his head, attempting to clear his head.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Who is she?" he asked as he gestured towards the unknown woman he desired so.

"Meredith Grey. Her father ran a large bank in Boston and just moved here, taking over the largest bank in Manhattan."

"Beautiful," Derek muttered under his breath.

"Well, you can always have a mistress on the side," Mark said, causing Derek to jump.

"No, I could never do that. I will not cheat on my wife… no matter how much I want to," Derek said, the last part under his breath.

"You still have a year until you're actually married. You might as well have fun while you can." Derek didn't hear this; he was already making his way across the ballroom to the goddess that was making his heart flutter. It seemed to him that the crowd parted as they locked eyes. 

She blushed slightly and broke the gaze, turning back to the girl she was talking to. Derek was merely steps away from talking to the first woman he had ever potentially loved, even though he had never even spoken to her, when he felt a strong hand clasp around his upper arm and steer him away. He looked over to see his father, his worn face set with harsh determination. No one could stop him from fulfilling the task that was on his mind.

"It's time. We must announce your engagement, before this night gets anymore out of hand."

"What could possibly be amiss? This party is perfect," Derek said, trying as hard as he could to postpone the announcement. At least until he could dance with her.

"There has been talk of Addison's father calling off the engagement if it's not made public now. And that means losing the opportunity to partner with him."

"So this engagement is just a business expansion, a chance for you to make even more money?" Derek asked, his voice gruff.

"That money pays for everything you do. Until you figure out what you want to do with your sorry life, you want me to make more money." Derek sunk into silence upon hearing this. He had attended Harvard and was fully prepared to take over his father's business in the stock market, but he was currently taking some time to live, before he got tied down. The possibility of his father disinheriting him always loomed over his head and he was frequently reminded of this. His father dragged him up to the platform the orchestra was on and slapped a fake smile on his face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this night is indeed a very special one. I thank you all for coming and would now like to make a very important announcement. A few days ago, my wonderful son, Derek, came to me, a lightness in his step. He looked me square in the eye and told me he was in love and had taken the liberty of asking Miss Addison Montgomery to marry him…" The crowd hung on his words, wanting to know her answer. Derek fidgeted next to his father, trying 

to keep a pleased look on his face, continue with his father's masquerade. William Sheperd raised his arms, as if to shout this tall tale to the world, "And he told me, 'Father, she said yes!'" The crowd cheered and applauded, as if pretending to be excited to make sure that William would not sabotage their stocks, as he had been known to do. He clapped his son on the back and they got down off of the platform. Addison started moving towards Derek, planning to perform some public display of affection that she knew would be all over the papers in the morning, but he quickly walked in the other direction. He walked out into the empty foyer and ran his hands through his dark, curly hair, his frustrations getting the better of him. He heard footsteps behind him and thought they were Mark, coming to find his disturbed friend.

"I need that glass of champagne now," he said, his voice rough with pent up emotion.

"You can have mine," replied a sweet, almost melodious voice. Derek turned quickly to find Meredith standing in front of him, her arm outstretched, handing the champagne to him. "You look like you could use it." Derek reached out and took the flute, his fingers lightly grazing hers. Shock waves went up and down his arms as he pulled back, so sharply that it caused a giggle to erupt from that small frame. His head felt light as he listened to that perfect sound, that sound that instantly put his mind at ease. It was almost if everything would be alright, as long as he could hear that laugh, that voice as much as possible. She lifted a delicate hand to her mouth as Derek stared at her, imagining that hand pressed against his chest.

"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate of me."

"We are standing in the middle of an empty foyer where I just almost completely broke down in front of you. This isn't a place for appropriateness.

"I won't tell anyone if you won't," she teased.

"Your secret is safe with me."

"As is yours with me." A beautiful smile spread over her lips and lit her eyes and Derek felt his head become light. He had never felt like this before, with anyone. She was perfect, yet she was real. Proper, yet adventurous. Quiet, yet outspoken. She was tempting and endearing and Derek had never felt desire stronger then in that moment. He had wanted nothing more in his life than to spend time with her, but that opportunity had been ripped out of his hand with his father's announcement. He silently cursed his father and his own fate, as he continued to stare at her. She soon grew uncomfortable and turned to leave.

"Wait," Derek called out after her. She turned back to look at him and he felt another blow to his heart, as her eyes looked deep into his. He walked up next to her and asked, "Will you dance with me?"

"It would be my pleasure," she replied, offering him her arm. He gratefully took it and led her onto the ballroom floor. She placed her hand on his shoulder and his went to her waist, as the music of a flowing, floating waltz began and they spun gently around the ballroom.

"Do you like it here in Manhattan?" Derek asked, trying to make small talk.

"It's much different from Boston," she replied, purposely holding back. He intrigued her.

"How so?" he asked, refusing to relent in his questioning. What she didn't know was that she intrigued him just as much as he, her.

"It's a lot more peaceful in Boston. It seems like here, everyone is set on going fast to nowhere in particular." Derek laughed at her wit. She may have intrigued him even more.

"Sure, there are people like that in Boston, but here it is everyone, even the children and poor who have no reason to hurry in the first place. And no one seems to have anything better to do than try and get involved in the lives of the elite of society. I've only been here for 

two weeks and, already, I've seen my name in the papers upwards of twenty time, all of it gossip that is so far from the truth, it's laughable."

"Yes, the middle and lower class always take pleasure seeing how their superiors have acted stupidly now."

"I never said 'superiors.' I just said the elite of society. There is a large difference. There are many in our "class" that belong in the middle and lower classes, but it's only because of their family name that they remain in power. The hierarchy of this city is remarkable and repulsing. Yes, there are lines that separate the well off from the not so well off, but to be put at such extremes, like in this city, is something that I have never seen before and will never grow to understand or except." Derek danced in silence, unable to come up with a counter remark. His admiration of her grew, as she displayed an independence that most women would never dream of showing. She was learned and she knew how to use that knowledge to her advantage. Derek wouldn't be surprised if she had left many men in a silent stupor, just like him.

"I'm sorry. Was I too bold?" she asked timidly after he didn't reply for some time.

"No, not at all. I'm just amazed. Most women would just agree with what the man says and continue on to another subject. You actually defended what you were saying."

"My mother always said my independence would be my downfall," she said with a laugh.

"But it could also be your pedestal," he replied, as he spun her under his arm.

"I suppose," she replied as she spun back into his chest. She shifted her eyes, obviously uneasy.

"Now it's my turn to ask if I was too bold," he quickly said, trying to salvage their conversation.

"I've just never met a man that treated me as an equal. I'm always reprimanded for my comments."

"I think your comments are endearing. You're so different than every other woman I've ever met." He paused and looked into her lovely face, enjoying the feeling of being so close to her. "Have you made any new friends since you arrived?"

"Well, the two women over there talking with your personal champagne server," she said as she gestured over to Mark, Addison, and Isobel Stevens, "have been very kind to me, but no one can ever replace my dear Ann."

"Was she a friend of yours in Boston?" Derek asked, curiosity written across his handsome face.

"She was my sister. She and my mother were killed in a carriage accident six months ago."

"Oh, I am so sorry," he responded, as he watched pain darken her eyes.

"That was a factor in my father's decision to move here. It was torture for him to stay in that house. He has been impossible to deal with ever since."

"Well, it you ever need a break from him, I am always available. At any time." With this last comment, his eyes grew very dark, as he gripped her waist even harder.

"I think that is a risqué comment coming from a betrothed man," she retorted, swiftly shutting Derek up.

"I…" Derek stammered, unable to counter her comment. Meredith quickly pulled out of his grasp and glared at him.

"Mr. Sheperd, I am not the type of woman to let an egotistical man like yourself ruin my reputation. You will do well to watch your mouth, before someone hears something you don't want them to." She quickly spun on her heel and walked out of the room, leaving Derek staring after her, kicking himself for making such a crass comment.

Meredith sighed as she stepped into her bedroom and threw her warp onto her bed. Her maid, Christina Yang, a Korean immigrant, soon entered and helped remove her dress and undo her stifling corset. She then went over to the wardrobe and brought out her nightgown. After Meredith pulled it over her head, she sat down at her vanity and Christina removed the pins in her hair and brushed through it. She wound the golden strands into a tight braid, her fingers moving with agility and speed. After she finished, she pulled an elegantly folded note out of her apron pocket.

"This arrived for you a few moments before you got in," she said as he handed it to Meredith.

"Thank you, Christina," she smiled at her, as she carefully unfolded the note. She quickly read it over and lifted her hand to her heart, as she felt it rattle against her rib cage.

"Are you alright, Miss?" Christina asked timidly.

"Yes, I'm fine, Christina. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Meredith. I can't stand to have you call me Miss when I am no better than you."

"Yes, Miss… I mean, Meredith. Is there anything I can get for you before you go to bed?" Christina asked, relaxing quite a bit.

"No, that will be all, Christina. Thank you." Christina silently stepped out, as Meredith slipped under her duvet and held the note above her, rereading it over and over, burning it into her memory. She placed it onto her bedside table and settled back into her pillows, staring up at the ceiling. Thoughts of that man flooded her mind, no matter how much she didn't want them to. He was arrogant and so sure of himself, but he was kind and so, so beautiful. And she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She leaned over and blew out her candle; her gentle breath carrying the letter off of the table. It fluttered to the floor and the elegant scrawl shown in the final flickering light.

Meredith,

Please forgive me for my insensitive comment tonight. It was incredibly rude of me and caused me unrest for the remainder of the night. I hope to see you and all of your beauty in the near future.

DS