“What’s all this?” Tessa Martin laughed, peering across the counter to the packed shopping cart on the opposite side of the register. “Jeez, Izzy, are you designing for Elvis or just stocking up on bling?”

Isabel Lassiter rolled her eyes, unloading the smaller items onto the checkout. “I wish. This lot is for Princess Spiteful. Well, most of it, anyway.”

“Alison? Why am I not surprised? Given the chance, that girl would poop rhinestones.” The store owner flashed a quick smirk, but then raised an eyebrow at the full bolt of shiny gold fabric still in the cart. “And the tacky lamé, too? Is that for her as well?”

Izzy shook her head. “No. That’s for Candice. She wants to shimmer without being obvious, or so she says. Between you and me, she’s hoping to walk the red carpet this year and wants to be ahead of the pack.”

Tess snorted. “Well, there’s no accounting for taste. Who does she think she is? Cleopatra?”

Another eye roll followed and they both laughed. “I don’t know how you do it, girl,” Tessa replied over the beep of her scan gun. “Still, sewing for them has helped up your game. You’re in here picking up odds and ends and hunting down the perfect fabric every week. Not that I’m complaining. You’ve always been my favorite customer.”

Isabel smiled at the older woman, taking in her soft white hair and the pop of purple giving her petite frame an almost elfin appeal. “They upped my game all right, but only because working for Candice is like picking my way through a minefield. Alison is even worse. Candice has her believing she rules Hollywood and Ally thinks that makes her Candi’s heir apparent.”

“Heir apparent?” Tessa shook her head, lifting a string of crystals. “Alison Steele is the worst actress to hit Hollywood in decades. It takes more than casting couch acrobatics to make it in this town, or at least it used to. Candice Gordon is a decent agent, so for the life of me, I can’t figure why she pushes that no-talent airhead ahead of everyone else. Ahead of you.”

Izzy smirked. “I have no interest in acting. You know that.”

Tessa winked, bending for a plastic shopping bag. “I know, sweetie. You’re doing what you were meant to do. You’ll get there. You just need a push now and then to keep you pointed in the right direction.”

She laughed. “That’s what I have you for, right?”

“More than you know, baby cakes. Still, you put too much faith in people who don’t deserve it.” Tessa paused and her soft gaze found Izzy. “Just like your mother.”

Iz watched her go back to ringing up items one by one. She’d known Tessa all her life. She was her mother’s friend, but she had no recollection of her before the awful day the police showed at their door telling them her mom was dead. Izzy shivered, dismissing the painful memory. Dad never spoke of the car crash, or for that matter, much of anything else afterward. She looked at Tessa again, busy wrapping the more delicate items in craft paper. The details didn’t matter. Tess was a godsend to a lonely little girl.

The older woman looked at Isabel. “Are you listening to me or busy daydreaming? You and I both know Candice is cunning and as mean as a snake, but she’s not stupid. As for Alison? That one is as dumb as a box of rocks. She’s so far up Candice’s ass, you can’t tell where one heifer ends and the other one starts.”

A grin tugged at Izzy’s lips. “How’d you get so Hollywood?” She crooked her fingers into quotes. “You said you were all country.”

Tessa chuckled. “That’s not the point. Besides, I’ve got my reasons for being here.”

Izzy lifted a clear cellophane bag of faux gems, watching the different cuts sparkle in the fluorescent light as she handed the bag to Tess. “Like what?”

She shrugged, giving Iz a small smile. “You, for one. Who else is there to give your shoulder a squeeze and your butt a swift kick when you need it?”

Izzy made a face. “I love you, Tess, but don’t make me the reason you stay in this smoggy city. If it wasn’t for what I owe Candice, I would leave this glittering rat race in the dust.”

“Pfft. Nice try, little girl, but I’ve known you forever and you love what you do.”

Isabel puffed out a breath, raking a hand through her long, dark hair. “You’re right. I love to sew. I love creating with patterns and fabric, but I don’t like this city and all its bullshit. Give me a quiet cabin with a sewing machine, a storeroom full of thread and fabric and an old-fashioned dressmaker’s dummy and I’d be golden.”

Tess angled her head, giving her a close-lipped smile. “I know, sweetie. You’ve always loved big sky country.”

Izzy sighed. “Someday.”

“Someday, yes—” Tess nodded. “But I don’t see you in that cabin alone. Not if I have anything to say about that.”

She chuckled. “Are you telling me you have a crystal ball with a map to my prince charming?”

Tess laughed. “No, more like a magic wand to swat your backside. So watch it, missy, or I’ll use it to turn you into a toad.”

“Yeah, right.” Isabel snorted. “Right now, being turned into a toad sounds pretty good. Magical mud baths, warm soaks on a lily pad in the dappled sun.”

“—and flies for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Miss Picky.”

“Eew. I forgot about that.” Iz smirked. “You know, my mother used to say we were surrounded by magic and all you needed was an open heart to see it.” She pulled a face. “Too bad she didn’t give any advice on what to do when that open heart gets stepped on.”

At the look on Tessa’s face, she reached for the older woman’s hand. “I’m sorry, Tess. I know I sound like a brat. You’ve been there for me all these years. It was you who taught me to sew and cut patterns, everything I know and love. It’s just—I don’t believe in magic anymore.”

“Don’t say that, Iz. Your mother would hate that you’ve stopped dreaming. I promised her I wouldn’t let that happen.”

Isabel shook her head. “I haven’t stopped dreaming. I’ve put those dreams on the back burner. I haven’t had much choice. You know as well as I do that Dad never got over my mother’s death, and it’s still not clear to me how he ended up owing Candice, but now that he’s gone, too, it’s up to me to make good on his debt.”

Tessa’s lips pressed into a white line. “I don’t buy that and neither should you. Your father never said how that woman got her hooks into him, but I think it’s pretty obvious. Sex and money. She used him to make a name for herself and then discarded him when she sucked him dry. She’s not a vampire, but she certainly does a good impression of one. It’s not up to you to shoulder his leftover burden. Besides, you’ve more than paid her back for covering your tuition to fashion school. It was your father’s money, anyway.”

“Not that there’s anything left.” Izzy toyed with the end of a piece of lace. “Dad once mentioned the money came from my mother’s family. Something about her clan.”

“Her shifter clan?” Tess slanted her eyes toward her.

Izzy nodded. “Yeah, but he said he wasn’t about to let them get their claws into me, too.”

Tessa’s hand froze and she turned her full attention to Izzy. “He told you that? I mean actually said those words to you?”

“No. Right after Mom’s car crash, he was on the phone with someone and I overheard.” Izzy shook her head as if trying to remember. “It was so long ago.”

Tessa nodded. “Let it go, honey. Whatever it was or wasn’t doesn’t pertain to you now. Maybe someday you’ll figure out what he meant, but now you need to concentrate on you.” She eyed her again. “What are you going to do about the situation you’re in with Candice? You’re too good of a person and too good of a designer to hide your light under her petty bushel anymore.”

“C’mon, Tess. It’s no secret Candice is dismissive most of the time, and together, she and Alison are a royal pain in my ass, but last I checked, being a Hollywood bitch is not a crime. Besides, Candice has connections.”

With a breath, Tessa shoved half of Izzy’s items into the plastic shopping bag. “So you keep telling me.” She stopped and eyed her young friend. “What has that cow done for you, Izzy? I mean, really. What contacts has she arranged in the years you’ve been her indentured servant?”

“That’s not fair, Tess. I’m not a servant.”

The older woman shook her head. “Do you really think she pays you what you’re worth?”

Isabel shrugged. “No, but I weigh that against the opportunity cost.”

Tess countered with a frown. “That sounds an awful lot like something people say when they pass the buck and can’t deliver on what they promise. I may not look it, but I’ve been around a very long time. That same bill of goods has been peddled year in and year out for centuries. Different words, perhaps. Same meaning.”

Isabel watched the older woman as she went back to keying in item codes. “It’s not the same thing. Every outfit I create for Alison is a feather in my cap. If she makes it big, then I’m right there, too. It just takes time.”

Tessa looked up from the register. “That sounds like more of Candice’s bullshit. When are you going to strike out on your own, Izzy? You’ve got more talent in your pinky than half the stylists in Los Angeles.”

Isabel gave her friend a soft smile. “If half the stylists in town loved me like you do, I might stand a chance. Candice doesn’t think I’m ready. After all, the only person I’ve designed for is Alison. My portfolio isn’t near big enough to go it alone. As much as I hate it, Candice Gordon and Alison Steele are all I’ve got.”

“Horse puckeys. Candice says you’re not ready because she wants you chained to your sewing machine while her prize pet laps up all the cream Hollywood has to offer. Alison rivals anything that walks the red carpet these days because of you, yet Candice pays you peanuts. Hell, you don’t even have a proper place to live.”

Isabel’s gaze fell to the counter. “I do okay.”

Tessa shook her head. “No, you don’t, baby. You could rule Los Angeles, but instead you live like a squirrel in a cramped backroom off your studio.”

“At least it’s my studio. I don’t share it with anyone.”

The older woman exhaled and then bent to lift the heavy bolt of gold fabric from the cart onto the cutting desk beside the register. “You don’t share it with anyone because no one knows you’re there. You should have a studio in Beverly Hills. You’re certainly good enough. Regardless of the obligation you feel, the truth is you don’t owe Candice Gordon anything and certainly not a lifetime of cheap labor. You’ve paid her and her airheaded protégé a thousand times over.”

Isabel looked at her friend. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s a leap of faith, honey, but first you need to tell her you’re done and then be done. Move on. All you need is one break, Izzy. A way to showcase your work and the world will be your oyster. You could have your cabin in the mountains and send your sketches in remotely. Win-win. Candice is a decent agent, but she sucks the big one as a human being, and I don’t mean in a good way.”

A slow grin spread across Tess’s mouth and she nodded slowly. “Speaking of sucking the big one, when’s the last time you took a walk on the wild side? I think you need a boyfriend, Iz, or at least a one-night stand. You’ve got supernatural blood in your veins. From what I hear, that’s supposed to give you an edge in that department.”

Izzy gave her a halfhearted chuckle. “Yeah, right. Like I would know. I’m short, dark and curvy. Not exactly the picture of physical perfection, especially in Hollywood.”

“Still,” Tessa added. “I know more about this than you think, especially when I catch dudes licking their lips as you walk by. You’re special, Isabel, and they sense what’s sizzling beneath the surface in you. Even straight up humans can sense it, though they haven’t got a clue why.”

“Okay, let’s come back from our visit to fantasy land. Yes, my mother was a shifter, but I don’t even know what kind of shifter since good ol’ Dad never talked about it after she died. My Spidey senses are all I got from her and they’re pretty generic.” Izzy angled her head. “I’m surprised my mom never shared her shifter heritage with you.”

“It was something she wanted to forget. Probably because your father was human and her people didn’t approve. You’re a beautiful woman, Izzy, but you never get the chance to show it.” A smiled tugged at Tessa’s lips. “Tell you what,” she started again. “How about I promise to stop nagging you about Candice, if you promise to use that nose of yours to sniff out a good time. It’ll be good for you to let a little steam out to the pot.”

Isabel choked on a laugh. “With what time, Tess?”

“I’m serious, Iz. How long has it been since you got laid?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. This isn’t your first rodeo, darlin’, so don’t play innocent with me. The way I see it, your problem isn’t lack of interest as much as too much time between mount ups.”

“Tess!”

“You gotta get back in the saddle, girl. Trust me. Once you get a taste of the real thing, you’ll want that kind of power between your legs every chance you get and twice on Sunday. Nothing battery-operated will ever do again. The trick is mounting the right horse. Old as I am, I still never pass up a good buck.” Tess waggled her eyebrows.

Izzy laughed, rolling her eyes. “You really are a dirty old broad.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Life is short, honey. At the end of the day, do you want your life to flash with nothing but fetching and carrying for Candice as how you spent your time and talent?”

“No, but—” Isabel waved her hand in front. “Ugh. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I’m too stressed to think about sex or rodeos or whatever.”

“Doing the right guy relieves stress, Izzy, especially if he has the kind of package that can make a girl’s mouth water. Backward cowgirl, straight up straddle, doggie style or whatever position you like best—even better if he knows his way around the downtown and everywhere in between.” Tess winked, clicking the inside of her cheek. “Maybe that’s what you need to turn your luck. A good ol’ fashioned, toe-curling, wrap-your-legs-and-hold-on-for-dear-life kind of friend with benefits.”

Isabel laughed. “What the hell kind of porn have you been reading, woman!”

“It’s called experience. You deserve a little straddle time with the right kind of guy, if only to make up for the bullshit you deal with every day with those two sorry excuses.”

Izzy looked at her friend. “I’m not looking for a friend with benefits. If I’m going to straddle anyone, it’s going to be for the right reasons. Not just to get off.” She exhaled. “I don’t know why we’re bothering with this conversation. Even if I had the time, I wouldn’t know where to look.”

Tessa eyed the younger woman. “You don’t have to look. Just be ready and willing when the magic swirls.”