by Milly Taiden
Izzy pushed a hand through her hair. The woman may have looked like a pixie, but Tess was all pitbull when she made up her mind, and she was digging her heels in this time. “You’re not going to let up, are you? Maybe when I get a free minute to think or breathe, I can design something for myself.”
“I don’t understand you, Izzy. You’ve got balls for everything else, except when it comes to what you want. You’d tear the throat out of anyone who tried to hurt me, but you won’t go to bat for yourself. Why?”
“I’m just—”
The front door to the shop jingled downstairs, grabbing both their attentions. Exchanging a quick glance, they both got up and went to the top of the stairs, listening.
“I swear I locked the front door,” Tessa whispered.
Izzy held up one hand and then moved quickly down the stairs with Tess on her heels. Her eyes tracked to a woman crouching just inside the front door. The air suddenly thickened and Isabel rubbed her nose. She watched the woman make her way through the back aisle, her eyes darting between the door and the checkout.
“Didn’t you say there was a rash of robberies in the neighborhood?” she whispered, scrunching her nose to avoid the metallic tang in the air.
“Yes.” Tessa snuck a glance toward the woman. “But the police don’t know much about who’s responsible.”
Isabel’s eyes narrowed as her gaze followed the woman who walked toward the front of the store. “Well, they will now. Dial 911, but don’t press send,” she said, her voice low. “Keep out of sight and don’t do anything until I say.”
Tessa’s face paled. “Izzy, no! We should call the police.”
“My gut is going nuts and the air smells funny.” Isabel made a face. “Like old coins or blood in your mouth. My guess is it’s her adrenaline.” Izzy gestured toward the woman. “I’d also bet my lungs she’s harmless.”
Tessa stiffened. “I don’t know, Iz. You sure?”
Isabel ignored her, concentrating instead on the nervous woman across the store. “She keeps glancing at the door. Plus, the air-conditioning in here is cranked to frostbite, yet she’s sweating.” Izzy slid her eyes back to her friend.
“I trust your senses, Izzy, but everyone will think we’re batshit if we handle this ourselves!” the older woman whispered back.
At Tessa’s hesitation, Isabel glanced between her and the woman before squaring her shoulders. “Get ready.”
“Isabel, no! It’s too dangerous.”
9
Izzy palmed Tess’s scissors from the cutting counter as she passed, keeping herself low as the woman moved closer to the emergency exit. “Excuse me. We’re closed. How did you get in here?”
The woman eyes darted toward the door again. “Uhm, the door was unlocked. I thought you were still open.”
Izzy closed the space between her and the woman, the air between them choked with a heavy sulfur scent. Gunpowder. Her gaze dropped to the woman’s purse and her nostril flared. Isabel looked past her shoulder to Tess who motioned to the phone in her hand.
The woman tried to slip past Izzy, but before she could push past, Isabel locked her hand over her wrist. “Look, you have ten seconds to leave the premises or my friend is going to finishing dialing the police.” Heat scored Isabel’s chest and her hand tightened, strength flowing into her grip. “The front door was locked and you know it.”
The woman swallowed hard, her eyes moving from her wrist to the door. “You better let go of my arm or I’ll be the one calling the cops.”
“Go ahead. I’m sure they’ll be very interested in what you’ve got hidden in your purse.” Isabel stared her down, her eyes narrowing as a different scent overshadowed the metallic tang of the woman’s adrenaline. This one spelled true fear. “I’m going to venture a guess this was not your idea. Someone is making you do this.”
The woman’s lips trembled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You and I both know that’s a lie,” Izzy replied softly.
The woman’s eyes widened, but she didn’t argue the point, and when Izzy loosened her grip, she slipped her hand free and darted for the door.
“Oh, and that unlicensed item in your purse,” Isabel continued, pointing to the woman’s handbag, “give it back to the man making you do this before you hurt yourself or someone else. He’s not worth it, and he doesn’t have your back the way you think. You’ll rot in jail while the coward finds some other dumb girl to do his dirty work.”
The door opened and closed in a fraction of a second and the woman was gone. “Holy shit! That was ballsy.” Hands shaking, Tessa lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. “How did you know she had a gun in her bag?”
“I smelled the gunpowder.” With a shrug, Isabel turned her back to the door. “Remember how my dad used to take me to the range with him? I used to think my keen senses made me a weird kind of psychic, but I keep losing my car keys and my sunglasses, so there goes that idea. It was later I realized the ability was something inherited from my mother’s shifter blood. It’s where I get my superhero nose.” She tapped the side of her nostril.
“Iz, she could have shot you.”
Isabel walked back toward where Tess waited by the backstairs. “I knew she didn’t have it in her to shoot. Her scent told me she was coerced. Anyway, I double-locked the door just in case she decides to be stupid and come back. You should call the police, though. It’s clear she and her partner are the ones responsible for the neighborhood break-ins.”
“You can smell tiny grains of gunpowder, but still no urge to howl at the moon?” Tessa gave a nervous laugh, the tension draining from her face.
Izzy shook her head. “Don’t you think I’d know by now if I was a full moon fur ball or not? Besides, my father’s Spanish blood makes me hairy enough, thank you very much. Thank God for home waxing kits.”
Tessa blew out a stream of smoke and then ground out what was left of her cigarette with her heel. “Your sense of smell tells you heaps about degenerate strangers, but you can’t see the forest for the trees with Candice and Alison?”
Rolling her eyes, Izzy exhaled. “And we’re back to this. It’s not the same thing, Tess.”
The older woman raised an eyebrow. “Think about it, Izzy. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck. You need to listen to your gut, just like you did with that woman. And you need to do the same thing when it comes to this guy of yours. Zander.”
Isabel exhaled, reaching for her bags on the counter. “Has anyone ever told you you’re like a dog with a bone?”
“And what if your patience is a virtue plan doesn’t work out?”
Iz shrugged. “Then you can be the first to say I told you so.”
“I don’t want to say I told you so. I want you to be happy and successful.” Tessa’s eyes found hers again. “It’s time, Isabel. You need to break out on your own and shine. You need to get out there and talk to people. Network. Let the magic flow.”
Isabel fidgeted with her sleeve. “I do talk to people.”
Tessa laughed, steering her back upstairs. “Talking to me and the old biddies that come in for crochet patterns is not what I mean. You need to meet industry insiders. That way you can show people what you can do.”
Still avoiding her friend’s eyes, Izzy inhaled, letting her breath out in a quick puff. “I know.”
Tessa sat her on the kitchen stool again. “Look at me, Iz. Something’s going to give. I feel it.” She waited for Isabel to meet her gaze. “Call it intuition, but something is stirring and you need to be ready to take the opportunity when it comes. Even if it means risking everything. I think meeting this guy was more than coincidence. Zander might be just what you need, in more ways than one.” She winked.
She smiled, patting Izzy’s hand again. “You can always move in with me if it all blows up. In the meantime, you need to make something amazing for yourself.” Tessa took her scissors back from Isabel’s hand and slit the thick craft paper on a wrapped bolt on the kitchen counter. She spread
the ends wide and smiled. “…and this is just the ticket.”
Isabel’s eyes widened at the gorgeous waterfall blue fabric. “Tess! Where did you find this? I’ve been looking for ages! Ever since Alison saw something like it in Milan last year.”
“I’ve had it for a while.” The woman cracked a smile, sliding the long bolt onto the kitchen counter. “I never let on because there was no way I would let you slave over something this amazing and then hand it over to someone else. Not when the material is so perfect for you.”
Isabel stood, leaning across the counter to run a hand over the Italian silk, its watercolor iridescence shimmering in the dim kitchen light. “It’s absolutely stunning, but I can’t afford this.”
Tess smiled. “I know, honey. That’s why it’s my treat.”
Isabel shook her head. “I can’t, Tess. Not with something so expensive. Besides, it’ll probably sit on a shelf in my sewing room longer than it’s been in your shop.”
“For heaven's sake, why? I swear, Izzy. I won’t let the fabric out of the store if you’re not going to use it on yourself. The color is perfect for you, especially with your hazel eyes.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but how am I supposed to make something for myself with all the work I have ahead of me?” Isabel exhaled, flopping back onto the stool.
“Iz, how else are you going to take that leap of faith unless you close your eyes and trust your gut? I get you don’t have the money to market your own work, but you can be your own walking billboard. Make something extraordinary. My gut says karma will lend a hand—with everything.”
10
“Mr. Petrov?” Zander’s secretary knocked on the doorjamb, not wanting to disturb him.
“Yes, June. What is it?” He didn’t turn in his cushy desk chair; instead, he kept his gaze on the sprawling city lit up like a Christmas tree.
“The email invitations are ready to go out, sir,” she replied.
“Good. Get them out as soon as you can. Special courier if necessary.” He felt her loitering in the door. A small smile tugged at his lips at the protective vibe coming off her in waves. “Spill it, Junie Bee. What’s eating at you, tonight?”
She walked toward his desk and Zander swiveled his high-backed leather chair around to face her. “Are you sure you want to open your house to that many people? It’s dangerous. Once the press gets wind of this…this…proposal, the whole lot will be all over the trades. Crazed fans and paparazzi will crawl out of the woodwork, not to mention every dodgy wannabe actress. I know you have six acres and extensive gardens, but—”
He raised an eyebrow, grinning at how her accent popped when she was upset. “Dodgy?”
“Unscrupulous, then,” she sniffed, “—and stop smirking, or I’ll box your ears!”
Zander laughed out loud at the look on June’s face. “Are you worried about my virtue, Junie love? After all this time?”
“You’re a right git to laugh at an old lady, but I’ve been with you for ten years and I’ve watched my share of bimbos prance in and out of this office as if they were queen incarnate. You are too nice to allow your good nature to be used like that.”
June was so serious, he pressed his lips together not to chuckle. “Suffice it to say there was using done on both ends, but I appreciate the concern.” He watched her fiddle with the pen cap in her hand and a wash of warmth crowded his chest.
“I can’t explain more, only that the invitations need to go out as instructed. I understand it’s a lot of coordination on your part, but there’s a method in my madness. I’m searching for someone very special, and every agent and stylist in Los Angeles and their staff must be invited to this party.”
“I see.” She nodded. “The new production. The rumor mill is buzzing you held the lottery for invitations because you want to offer the leading parts to an unknown.” She angled her head. “Is that true?”
He grinned. “You know better than to listen to gossip. Regardless of what the chatter says, if everything goes the way I hope, it will be worth the added aggravation and I promise I will make it up to you. RSVPs must be received with the list of attendees’ names by the designated deadline, otherwise their tickets are forfeit. I want to make sure that is crystal clear in all confirmation letters. No extra guests, no last-minute substitutions, no exceptions. If you need to hire temporary help to collate the responses, then do whatever needs to be done to make your job easier. Spare no expense.”
“Yes, Mr. Petrov.”
Zander pursed his lips. June had a point about overzealous fans and press. “Have you ordered extra security?” He didn’t have to ask. June may have voiced her concern late, but he knew calling in the troops was the first phone call she made. “I might seem casual about the logistics, but I’m really not. I understand the risks.”
“I’m glad, sir. You can never be too sure.” June nodded. “I took care of the details already.” She shot him a sheepish grin, and he laughed. “They’ve already done a walkthrough of the house and grounds, and they have the areas off-limits to guests clearly marked on their plans.”
“Good.” He gave her a soft smile. The woman always had his back. “Make sure to include yourself and your husband in the final head count.” He winked. “I added a few names to the list of celebrities especially for you.”
A soft blush took her cheeks and she nodded again. “I saw. Thank you, sir, but I think I’m might sit this one out. I’m getting a little long in the tooth for this kind of evening.”
Zander chuckled at the older woman’s wink. “You do a good job of coordinating my life, Junie. I know it’s not easy with my fingers in so many pies. I want you to know I appreciate it.”
She laughed. “Don’t think I won’t remind you of that the next time I’m due for a raise.”
“Ha!” He smiled. “Anything less would disappoint.”
At the compliment, June glanced at the floor. “I’ve been happy working for you these past years. More so than anywhere else.” She lifted her gaze and met his head on. “I only wish you were happy, too.”
“If all goes as planned with this party, I just might be, love.” He winked again. “Fingers crossed.”
“Crossed for what, sir?” she asked.
“A miracle.”
Zander nodded as June left with her folder and iPad. He swiveled around again to face the city, its lights like a carpet of stars as far as the eye could see. Isabel was down there somewhere, and his wolf growled. Soon.
The rhythmic sound of Izzy’s sewing machine pulsed in the quiet studio. Stopping to snip a few stray threads, her eyes swung toward the open studio door and the footsteps in the small waiting room beyond. “Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath, her fingers reaching for her sharp sewing scissors. She forgot to lock the front door, breaking the cardinal rule of keeping a studio in a not so great area. The police may have broken up their latest crime ring, but hey, you never know.
Isabel gripped her scissors in one hand under the sewing table. “Hello? We’re closed, but I’m in the back if you want to schedule a fitting,” she called out, keeping her voice casual.
“And who is going to schedule a fitting at this time of night?” Candice asked, standing at the studio door. “Besides me, that is.”
Izzy exhaled the breath she’d been holding and blinked. “You could have let me know you were coming, Candi. You scared the crap out of me.”
Candice smiled. “I’m sorry, Isabel. You’re right. I should’ve called, but I was too excited and had to rush right over.”
Isabel raised an eyebrow at the woman’s unusual lightheartedness. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with Candice Gordon?” She waved three gold embossed tickets in the air. “Stop whatever you’re working on and look at this!” The woman practically skipped forward. “This is it, girl! After five years of pushing, it’s finally happened!” Candice pressed the tickets to her lips, giving them a loud kiss.
Isabel bit the inside of her cheek. “You make it sound l
ike you passed a kidney stone. What’s going on?”
Candice gave Isabel’s worktable a quick glance and then cleared every scrap with one swipe of her arm. “A clean palate! Just what we need.”
“Candi! What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?”
The woman shook her head. “Forget all that. Forget everything except what I’m about to tell you. We need gowns! Elegant, drop-dead, gorgeous gowns. And we’re going to need them in two weeks. Spare no cost!”
Izzy waved her hands in front of her. “Back up a minute. Can we leave the crazy on the side of the road for a moment? What the hell are you talking about? Gowns for whom and why so fast? What happened?”
“Izzy, it’s been in the trades for a week, at least!” Candice balked. “The entire town has been buzzing on pins and needles waiting to see who’s in and who is out! Don’t you read?”
Isabel went back to her sewing. “You know damn well I have no interest in who’s in and who’s out in la-la land. Unless the news directly affects me, I keep my nose in my trades. Fashion.” The sewing machine whirred again.
“Oh, for God's sake, Isabel. Look at the big picture for once. Alex Petrov is opening his house for the party of the year! He’s giving a relatively unknown actress a shot at the big time. He plans to cast her in his latest production, which means he’ll launch her into the kind of career most girls only dream about. It’s the chance of a lifetime. Alison’s chance of a lifetime and the only way to get a piece of the action is by lottery.”
“Lottery.” Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Sounds fishy.”
Candice exhaled. “It’s completely legit, and if you weren’t so pigheaded, you might see this could be a break for you, too.”
“Pigheaded. Me?” She lifted her foot off the sewing machine’s foot pedal and stared at the woman open-mouthed.
“Isabel, focus! I’m trying to tell you we were picked!” Candice waved the tickets in the air. “Right here in gorgeous, gilt gold.”