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“Nice tits, Sera,” The brunette said from in front of the tray of hors d’oeuvre.
Sera looked down at her shirt, pulled the wet material away from where it stuck to her body, and groaned, “Your just jealous, Lucy.”
“Of you? Nope. Harper has the best rack of us all,” Lucy said, looking over at the blonde who grinned, then grabbed hers with her hands and shook them, though there was very little movement with the chef’s coat covering them.
Without looking around the room, he knew Sera’s were the best in the room. Even better wet and only covered by a blue bra. They were glorious right now, and he wanted to look at them all day.
Harrison was seeing why being topless in a bar might not have embarrassed Sera at all. She and her friends were very comfortable talking about them and each other’s. And maybe sex in general was a topic for everyday conversation. Either way, he liked it.
“Sera, I can’t have you serve like that. This is an engagement party … that Buzz might have ended.” She shot the redhead a look.
“I’m a damn good kisser, ladies. He’s probably rethinking everything. If I had kissed his beloved, she would be rethinking things too. It was like his tongue was paralyzed or something.” She continued to pour more booze.
“Can I leave then?” Sera asked. Though she hadn’t looked at him, he knew she knew he was there.
“Yes. What you won’t do to get out of work!” Harper yelled at her.
“Blame it on your baby sister, Harps.” Sera pointed at the back of the redhead.
“Now I’m one short,” Harper said and started taking off her perfectly clean white jacket. He was sure she would only have a bra on under the jacket, based on the group and what he knew of them. But she took it off to reveal a white button-down shirt that matched the other waiters. It seemed she was prepared to step in when needed.
“Can I go?” Sera asked again.
“Yes, go,” Lucy said. She, too, was now in a waiter shirt after taking off her apron.
“She can’t go! We all rode together,” Buzz said, and the black-haired woman agreed.
“I can take her,” Harrison interjected, knowing he would be noticed by everyone by speaking up. But he wanted away from this party, and she needed to get away from it. Win-win.
“I don’t know who you are.” The black-haired woman stated, looking him up and down.
“Harrison Dean. I work with Seraphina,” he said, regretting saying her full name again. If they were close, he should be calling her Sera as her friends had, but the name rolled off his tongue so easily after all these years.
“If she trusts you, she can. Otherwise, you just have to stay in here until the party is over,” Harper replied, filling trays with Champagne glasses.
“I don’t trust him,” the black-haired woman mumbled and looked him over again.
“Agatha, tray.” Harper either didn’t hear it or ignored it as she lifted the now-full tray towards the woman.
Sera looked at him and shrugged. “If you’re willing to give me a ride, I will accept. It’s across town, though.”
“I live downtown, so I’m also across town.” He couldn’t help but be excited about spending time looking at those breasts encased in a wet bra. And he was starting to like the idea of spending time with the prude of HR, who wasn’t a prude at all—just all wet.
