It is Izzy's lunch hour and, perched in that gorgeous sun-filled conservatory with a coffee and a newspaper she has no intention of reading, her mind has drifted somewhere far more interesting. The garden stretches green and lush beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the afternoon light catching her long blonde waves and turning them to gold, while her dark navy bodycon dress wraps every perfect curve as if it were made specifically to torture anyone who walks past. She crosses her legs, tilts her head, and lets you in on the dream.
She has decided she knows exactly how to earn that promotion, and she is very much willing to live her dreams out loud. The dress slides up her thighs as she shifts in the bistro chair, all long legs and warm smiles and the unmistakeable confidence of a woman who always, always gets what she wants. Would you give Izzy the promotion? Every glance she sends over her shoulder out into that dreaming garden already assumes the answer is yes.