“Alex Petrov’s Malibu House Party?” Tessa raised an eyebrow at Isabel’s waiting grin.

“Didn’t I say I had something huge to tell you?” Izzy nodded. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

Isabel dug in her tote bag to show Tess her sketches, keeping her face down until the heat in her cheeks passed. She didn’t sleep for more reasons than just ideas buzzing. Zander’s image floated through her mind again and her clit throbbed. With how hard she worked her hand in her pussy last night, she’d be lucky if she could thread a needle today.

“I worried my mind would go blank with the stress of what Candice wants for her and Alison, but then my hands couldn’t move fast enough.”

Heat scored her cheeks again, and Tessa raised an eyebrow. “Fast enough for sketching or fast enough for something else?”

Isabel ignored her, handing the notebook over instead, but the older woman put it on the counter, unopened. “Petrov’s party is an A-lister only event, Izzy. How the hell did Candice score a ticket?”

“She scored three tickets. I don’t know how and to be honest, I don’t really care. For once in my life, I’m included. Up front and center with her and Alison. From what Candice said, the production company held some kind of a lottery this year. Something about opening up casting to give an unknown a shot at the big time. It’s got to be a publicity stunt, but who the hell cares?”

“Like Willy Wonka and the Golden Tickets,” Tess murmured.

Isabel laughed. “That’s what I said at first, but it’s legit, and this time I get to own my designs and network with industry insiders. Either I’ll break out like a firetruck or go down like a house on fire, but one way or the other, I own the moment.”

“I get you’re nervous about the event and its possibilities, but why are you so stressed? You’ve made knock out dresses for Candice and Alison plenty of times,” Tessa asked, her eyes falling to the sketchbook on the counter.

“Oh, I get it now.” She nodded. “Let me guess. Candice wants Alison to outshine everyone at the party, so she’s dangled an invitation in front of you as incentive. You outdo yourself like never before, and as a reward you get to go to the party.” She raised an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

Isabel avoided the question, opening the sketchbook instead. “I’m designing a dress for me, as well.” She turned the book toward Tess and tapped the page. “What do you think?”

Tessa exhaled. “Okay, Cinderella. Just remember my words when Candice hands you her lame excuse as to why you can’t go.”

Izzy closed the book with a muffled thump. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Really? And why is this time any different? What’s the reason behind this life-changing epiphany?”

Izzy reached into her tote bag and pulled out a gold-embossed ticket and held it out toward Tess. “Because she already gave me the invitation. It was my one condition or I was leaving her and Ally high and dry.” She dug in her bag for the accompanying letter. “See, I even have the confirmation letter to make it doubly legit.”

Isabel handed both over and the older woman skimmed the heavy embossed card and its confirmation. Shaking her head, she tapped the bottom of the letter with her finger.

“Izzy, it says right here you need to confirm your attendance or the invitation is forfeit.” She held the letter out as proof. “If Candice is the recipient, then she’s the one who has to RSVP. There’s her out for not taking you. It’s right here in black and gold, and Candice will blame some administrative lackey on the other end for why you were shit out of luck, while she struts off scot free.”

Isabel shook her head. “No, she won’t. Candice never does anything administrative. She gives it to Alison to do it, who in turn pawns it off on me. I already confirmed our names. All three names.”

“And what if Candice counts on that and changes the count? What then?”

“Then that, my dearest Tess, will be the absolute last straw.” Isabel shrugged. “Besides, the head count was done via Eventbrite. It’s electronically calculated and there’s no way to change it without going through chains of emails. Like I said, Candice can’t be bothered, and Alison is too lazy.”

Tessa flipped through the rest of the sketches. Impressed, she nodded. “Iz, these are amazing.” She looked at her with a grin. “Please tell me this one is yours.” She tapped the third design page.

“They’re all mine, Tess, but if you’re asking if that design is for me personally—” Izzy nodded with a grin.

“It’s better than spectacular. It’s stunning.” Tessa ran a hand over the design, moving her fingers to the small swatch of fabric stapled to the top of the heavy drawing paper. “You’re using the material I gave you.”

Isabel nodded. “It’s perfect, don’tcha think?”

Tearing up, Tess sniffed. “No, darlin’. You’re the one who’s perfect.” She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and then carried the sketchbook to her worktable. “Okay then.” She turned, chewing on her lip. “To pull off this miracle, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“We?” Izzy asked.

Tessa nodded, rummaging through papers on her desk. “Yes, we. I won’t give Candice the satisfaction of watching you break down because of unachievable chores.”

“You think I can’t do this?” Isabel’s eyes looked at her, concerned.

Tess reached out and patted Isabel’s cheek. “Not at all, honey. You can do anything you set your talented mind to. It’s the work required and the unreasonable timeframe that worries me.” She found her phone and scrolled through her contacts.

“Who are you calling, then?” Izzy gestured to the cell phone in Tessa’s hand.

“Birds of a feather, sweetheart. I’m calling my sewing circle. A few are as shy as mice, but they all love you and would love to help.” She gestured with her chin to the ticket still on the counter. “Better put that away before it gets lost in the confusion.”

Isabel put the ticket and the confirmation letter in her tote along with her sketchbook. “I’m pinning that ticket to my design board the moment I get back to the studio.”

“Good. Keep the visual to stop you from ripping Alison a new one over the next two weeks.” Tess winked. “I’m going to rally the troops. We’ll meet you back at your studio in one hour. Be ready.”

Izzy threw her arms around the older woman’s shoulders. “Thank you, Tess.”

She nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Save your energy. We’re in for a marathon sewing bee.”