Izzy is ready to show you a good time, and her definition of a good time starts with a gold satin ruched mini dress so short it is doing very little pretending to cover anything. She drapes herself across the white sofa with one long leg kicked up in her vertiginous black heels, her honey-blonde hair gleaming in the light pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and delivers a smile so slow and knowing that the blue sky and palm trees framing the penthouse behind her might as well not be there. She pats the cushion next to her, those bright eyes full of mischief and invitation, and it is an invitation that nobody in their right mind would decline.
The gold dress starts to misbehave immediately. It rides up, gaps open at the front, and Izzy helps it along with a thoroughly unsubtle enthusiasm, pulling the satin aside to reveal the black lace bra and pink-trimmed suspender thong beneath, both of which are doing heroic work. She arches forward on the sofa in those black heels, the dress hiked up to reveal everything, and grins down the camera with the absolute confidence of someone who knows precisely how much of a good time this is turning out to be. She was right. It absolutely is.