A/N: Warning to my lovely Unintended/Turnabout readers. This is a brand-new version of the characters!

Chapter One: Angela's Birthday

"And a pitcher of margaritas, Pepe!" Wendy requested. She was determined to make Angela's birthday fun. Honestly, she had been looking forward to a night off from motherhood even before discovering the occasion.

"You know I can't help with that, Wendy," reminded Isabel. "I'm on call, and I have to stay completely sober."

"I'm not going to have any either," Angela said. "The combination of sugar and alcohol always makes me feel terrible the next morning. The nachos are going to do enough damage to my diet anyway."

"Challenge accepted!" Wendy cried. There was no way she was going to waste a night away from Herb's gloominess and constant criticism.

Forty-five minutes later, the three women had finished their meals. Wendy succeeded in draining the entire pitcher of margaritas and was currently at the bar getting a shot of tequila. She was also flirting shamelessly with the bartender and tugging at her wrap dress to reveal her cleavage.

"Should we stop her?" Angela asked Isabel.

"No, just let her have her fun. She's been so unhappy at home lately. You and I have both gone through our divorces already, but hers is still coming," Isabel said with compassion.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Angela asked. "I mean, is there anyone special?"

"Not really. How about you? I guess it hasn't been that long since you officially became single, but Michael wasn't around for what, a year, before that?" Angela gave a tight nod in response. Michael's inconsistent presence at home over the years was no secret, but it was clearly a sensitive topic this evening. "Do you want dessert?" Isabel asked, changing the subject.

The sound of Wendy slapping the bar startled them. "Ha! You're so funny!" She was on her knees on top of the round stool, twisting and leaning over the bar toward the young bartender. He smirked in amusement.

"We should skip dessert and get her out of here," Angela decided. "And no, I'm not ready to get back into another relationship."

"Date casually. You have a lot of options. Or you could just stay home and enjoy the view." Isabel winked. Another cackle rang out across the room. "OK, I'll settle up and we can get Wendy home." Isabel waved her credit card at Pepe, and he came over to close out their tab.

The pair gathered their coats and purses and approached the bar. "Bedtime, Wendy," Angela informed her inebriated friend.

"Woo, bedtime! Oscar, would you care to join me?" Wendy boldly questioned the bartender.

"Sorry about her." Isabel shoved cash across the bar while Angela got Wendy on her feet. Together the trio made its way to Isabel's sedan, where Wendy immediately passed out across the back seat.

"Let's drop her off first " Angela offered. Isabel turned out of the parking lot, arriving at Wendy's just a few minutes later.

The two roused their drunken companion and helped her into her house and into the bedroom. They removed her shoes and dress and left her under the covers in her slip. Isabel went to the kitchen for a glass of water to leave by the bedside.

"Angela?" Wendy slurred. "I hope you had a happy birthday. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, what do you need?" Angela responded, sitting on the bed.

"Grab Tony's butt when you get home. Imma call you tomorrow so you can describe it to me." Wendy closed her eyes and promptly fell asleep.

Isabel returned with the glass of water and set it on a coaster on the nightstand. "What was that about?" she asked Angela, who had started to blush again.

"Nothing. Can you drop me off at home now?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Angela stared out the window into the night as Isabel drove. She wondered if her friends' comments about Tony were driven solely by his good looks, or if they sensed her growing attraction toward him. "Thank you for taking me out and treating me to dinner," she said, climbing out of the sedan. She approached the front door and pulled out her keys. Just then, Tony's van pulled up, followed by a police cruiser. A young, uniformed officer climbed out of the van and opened the back door of the cruiser. Tony climbed out and accepted his keychain from the officer, slapping him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. She was frozen in confusion as the cruiser pulled away from the curb, but when she noticed that Isabel was still waiting for her to enter the house, she waved, signaling her friend to depart.

Tony walked unsteadily toward the front door while picking through his keys, nearly running into Angela on the porch. He grabbed her upper arm to steady himself and attempted to focus his eyes. She was flustered by his closeness but feigned a calm demeanor, holding her hand over his and asking, "Is everything alright, Tony?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, the cops were just bringing me and my van home 'cause I couldn't drive."

Angela unlocked and pushed open the door to the empty house. "I don't understand. Are you in any trouble?" she asked. She was far more concerned about Tony than the fact that there was no surprise party.

"No, no, no. No trouble. I volunteered to get drunk at the Y to demonstrate the effects of alcohol. Their idea," he explained as he hung his sport coat on a hook. "I'm fine." He looked her up and down. "That's some outfit. Shorts suit! What's the occasion?"

"Isabel and Wendy took me out to Taco Loco for my birthday," she said. She shrugged her white coat off and threw it across the console table.

"Oh no! I missed your birthday!" he wailed. "I would have made you a double fudge walnut cake."

"Mmmmm, that does sound good. Wendy was a little out of control with the margaritas, so we left before dessert." She clasped her hands together under her chin and gazed at him.

Tony melted at the sight of Angela's wide brown eyes. "Oh, now? Yeah, sure. Let's go!" He spun her around and held her waist through her jacket, pushing her toward the kitchen. Usually, he restrained himself from touching her, but the alcohol had indeed lowered his inhibitions. When they reached the kitchen, he took her jacket off, grazing her shoulders through the thin fabric of her blouse.

"Can I help?" she asked, rolling up her sleeves.

"Sure, Angela. Let me get everything out, and then you can help me." He put the jacket over a chair and continued looking away from his boss. He pulled out cake pans, measuring cups and bowls, a hand mixer, and a spatula. As he opened the refrigerator for eggs and butter, he asked "Can you preheat the oven to 350?"

She caught sight of his rear end as he leaned into the fridge. "Sure, Tony!" she replied, a little too cheerfully, and stood in front of the stove. Wendy's drunken order for her to grab his butt echoed in her head. She had never told her friend how many times she thought about it. More importantly, she had no intention of following through on her little fantasies.

Tony noticed Angela looking straight ahead at the far wall. He set down the eggs and butter and reached around her, turning the dial to 350. She put her hands to her face in surprise, allowing him to brush his fingers against her hip as he pulled back. Goosebumps sprung up on her arms, though she wasn't cold at all. She didn't dare turn around and look at him.

"Aprons," he narrated, tying his usual navy apron around his waist, then finding a pristine white eyelet version. "Let me help you." He reached both hands around her slim body and unfurled the fabric in front of her.

"Thanks" she said weakly. Was it getting hot? As Tony fastened the frilly item around her waist, she reached up to untie the black bow on her blouse and undo the top button.

"Not for nothin', but I gotta get you out of the way. There's a special spot for the birthday girl." He backed her up against the counter and lifted her by the waist. She yelped in surprise and smiled broadly.

"You're so strong," she remarked, grasping onto his biceps. He was still holding her at the waist and looking at her face, avoiding the slightest glance further down. Then he realized that her knees were pinned to his hips, and impure thoughts started to flood his mind. He was thankful for the dark apron that skimmed over his fly. Not that his boss would be looking there, he told himself.

He pivoted toward the work surface as he stepped away. "You're light as a feather," he told her. "Why do you think I'm always trying to get you to eat?"

"Well, cooking is part of your job, Tony."

That's right, he was just a housekeeper to her. He suddenly felt sober, and the physical evidence of his attraction disappeared. He focused on adding ingredients to the mixing bowl. "Best job I ever had," he murmured.

"I'm really glad I hired you."

"I'm glad, too. Jonathan's a great kid. And I've got a new best friend in Mona." Tony tried to downplay the importance of Angela herself on his job satisfaction. Job? More like life. Her generosity toward Sam alone was enough to overshadow every benefit he'd ever received in the past.

Angela was disappointed that Tony hadn't named her as his best friend. Maybe he thought Wendy and Isabel occupied that tier for her. They had, before he came along. She tried to remember how and when he had become her chief confidant. It couldn't have been more than a month or two into his tenure. And did he feel the same way? He had certainly been vulnerable with her regarding his grief at losing his father, and with his insecurities about Samantha's growing up. "Friends are important," she offered insipidly.