Snowball fight!? Serena cried at the top of her lungs to no one in particular. She?d been dancing with a pack of tipsy, half-naked Les Best models and her blond mane was matted to the back of her neck, creating a sort of unidreadlock, beach hair effect. She?d been relieved of her I LOVEAARONT-shirt for a cool four thousand bucks by her old friend Guy Reed from the Les Best boutique and was now wearing only a hot pink La Perla demibra that looked like a bikini top. ?Snow volleyball!? a guy shouted back even louder. He was dressed in a black ski suit from the Les Best ski line, black fur boots, and a pair of black fur earmuffs clung to his ears. He pointed out the huge bar windows to where a volleyball net had been set up outside on the snowy sidewalk. In a matter of seconds the entire roomful of writhing, sweaty bodies attacked the coat closet, pulling on the nearest Fendi sheepskin or goose-down Gucci parka to protect their skinny bodies from the cold before they dashed outside to frolic in the snow. Serena giggled as she slipped into a beige fleece-lined down parka with a beaver fur?trimmed hood that would have fit a giant Eskimo. In the last two hours she?d drunk more champagne than she had on New Year?s Eve and she felt giddy and warm all over. Before she could even zip up her coat, someone grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door with him. Outside the snow had enveloped everything and the streetlights glowed gold on the downy white blanket. Without the constant honk and roar of traffic, there was a pleasant calm about the city, as if it had finally gone to sleep. Shrieking in merriment, the gang of models, stylists, an............