Chloe tugged down at the crotch of her bodysuit with her free hand, continuing to balance the tray of drinks on her other with practiced ease. Though she had waited tables on weekends while studying for her master's degree, she had gone out of her way to purchase a serving tray and practice walking it back and forth across her studio apartment, stacking it high with books and weaving between furniture, making sure that by this time tonight, her movements would be flawless.
She looked at the digital display of the elevator. 28th floor. Halfway to the penthouse, where Eric Mead, the recently anointed heir to the Northeastern Electronics fortune, was holding one of his private parties. The parties were where Mead, a largely private and secluded individual, conducted most of his business. However, due to the secretive nature of these parties, the rumors had made them out to be something of legend.
Among her fellows from Greene Industries, Northeastern's top competitor, rumors ran rampant of human sacrifice, devilish cults, billionaire orgies, and even a few adamant believers in the legend of a fight club. Her? She had a much simpler theory that regarded insider trading along with a laundry list of other felonious business practices - which was the exact reason that she, along with her coworker and close friend from work, Darren, were here.
Darren was the one that had come to her with what he called his "insider scoop". According to him, someone from within the Northeastern had reached out to him with rumors that he said "had a solid foundation" that Mead was participating in illegal business practices, the nature of which could almost undoubtedly spell ruin for Northeastern and Greene's greatest victory to date. The only stipulation to this was that it couldn't be known that such information had been nabbed by two members of a rival company who had illegally entered the party in order to commit industrial espionage. As such, Darren had worked tirelessly with this whistleblower in order to slip them seamlessly into the evening - forging a server's I.D. for her and an invitation with V.I.P. Clearance for him, both of which were nothing short of flawless counterfeits. After getting to the Northeastern Building, crowned by Mead's lavish penthouse, all they had to do was go where the insider had told them to, speak to who he had mentioned, and take the elevator up to the top. That, and there was the matter of attire.
Darren, who was standing next to her and adjusting his tie in the elevator's mirrored back wall, was wearing an all black suit. His jacket, the tie he was having a little too much trouble fidgeting with, even the shirt he wore under it, were all black. The whistleblower had said that this was the most run-of-the-mill attire to these parties and would make him stand out the least. The suit was tailored to fit slim against his broad frame. Chloe couldn't help but admit that he looked sharp at the very least, but perhaps something closer to outstandingly handsome was where her mind actually dwelled. As he pushed around and fixed his normally free-flowing(but for this occasion, neatly trimmed) dark hair he glanced over at her.
"You look good," Chloe said, finally breaking the anxious silence that had hung between them since they had arrived.
"Likewise," Darren said, flashing a grin at her before turning back to the doors.
"Some dress code though. If this is actually how his servers are dressing for him and not the world's most humiliating prank, then this guy is as much of a perv as people say." Chloe turned now to look at herself in the mirrored elevator wall.
She was dressed head-to-toe in a playboy bunny suit, all black like Darren's suit except for the white cuffs of the black satin gloves she wore and the faux white shirt collar around her neck, adorned with an equally fake black bow tie. The tight black bodysuit that their inside source had sent her gently cupped Chloe's breasts and wrapped around, dipping down and ending at her mid back. On it, directly above her ass, a white puffball tail was attached. Underneath it was a set of nearly completely transparent tights, which had embarrassed her not because she was basically going to be walking around bare-legged and with most of her ass in plain view in front of dozens, if not hundreds of strangers, but because Darren would no doubt end up seeing the subpar butterfly tattoo on her hip that she had prayed she would never have to show anyone.
On her feet were a pair of black high heels. To finish the entire ensemble, propped on her head were a pair of black bunny ears, which she now adjusted on her head with her free hand while looking in the mirror.
"You know," Darren said, rubbing his palm against his jaw, "you've done that probably six times now. The ears aren't going anywhere."
"Do you think it's convincing enough?" Chloe ran her hand anxiously through her blonde hair. "You don't think they'll see through it?"
"Only if you keep fidgeting."
She elbowed him softly and he pinched her back, both of them smiling. Their eyes locked, his hazel ones on her green ones, and the elevator chimed as the doors opened on the penthouse.
-
Darren's first thought as the elevator doors opened were "I'm not going to make it."
Everywhere he looked throughout the vast and luxurious penthouse stood men and women of all ages, dressed in black suits just as he was or in tight black dresses, introducing themselves to each other, conversing, laughing, drinking, and moving to and fro. They were not what caught his attention, however. What caught his attention was the small and thinly spread army of servers, carrying trays of drinks, whisking away empties, standing at the fringes, speaking with the attendees - each and every one a woman of exceeding beauty dressed in the same playboy bunny attire as Chloe was.
On a couch occupied by a trio of men and one woman, one of these servers, a light skinned black woman with ringlets of coiling hair down to her mid-back, had taken a seat across the lap of a man no older than thirty. She conversed with and laughed with the small group, all the while running her gloved hand along his chest. Near the bar to the far right of the room's center, a slender server with a pixie cut of dyed pink hair was dancing, suspended above the floor, in a stripper cage. It was enough to make him forget, if only for a moment, why it was that they were there. Luckily, he hadn't come alone, and his evening's accountability was signaled by a pair of fingers jabbing into his rib cage, causing him to snap back to reality.
"Focus," hissed Chloe, tugging at and adjusting the breast of the bunny suit around her own sizable boobs with her free hand. "People are going to know something is up if you just stand in the corner drooling all night."
"Mhm. You're still fidgeting."
Chloe had started to read for the bunny ears on her head to adjust them once again, only to let her hand drop to her side with a sigh.
"Tell me again why I couldn't have just worn a dress here? There are just as many guests that are women as men."
"Because you know who can go wherever they want to without being barraged by questions?" Darren planted a hand on the small of her back and ushered her out of the elevator and into the vast penthouse. "The beautiful girl carrying the drinks." He gave her a playful smack on her ass, to which Chloe responded with an exaggerated glare back at him that barely masked her smile and a gloved middle finger. He grinned back at her, and the two of them paid each other a nod of silent good luck before Chloe turned back around and walked into the fray.
Darren watched her closely as she went. He watched the way her soft blond hair, styled in loose waves and topped with those black bunny ears, fell on her shoulders and down her back. He watched her exposed back and arms, which were lean but clearly possessing the slightest bit of muscle. He watched her hips swing with every step she took away, maintaining a flawless gait in her high heels. Funny, he realized had never seen her wear heels before now. More than that, however, he watched her perfect thighs and round, flawless ass, topped with the little white puffball tail and barely concealed by those tights. He could even see a little tattoo on her hip that she had conveniently not mentioned when the topic had come up in the past.
