New Boobs Require New Adjustment

You catch Clara's wrist before she can drag you back to the table. "Wait," you whisper urgently. "I need your help with this." You gesture discreetly at your chest, where your suddenly larger breasts strain against the emerald fabric.

"Oh honey," Clara's eyes light up with mischief. "Follow me."

She leads you to a quieter corner near the emergency exit, partially hidden by a decorative partition. With expert hands, she adjusts the wrap of your dress, loosening the tie slightly and rearranging how the fabric drapes across your chest.

"There," she says, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Less 'about to pop out' and more 'deliberately sexy.' Though I have to say, they look fucking fantastic."

You lower your voice, leaning closer. "Also... have you noticed how David's been looking at me? I need advice on discouraging him without making things awkward."

Clara's perfectly shaped eyebrows shoot up, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Oh, I've noticed. Mr. I'm-So-Professional hasn't taken his eyes off your ass all night." She takes a sip of her drink, considering. "Look, David's not used to rejection, but he's not a creep either. Just be direct—tell him you're not interested."

"It's complicated," you admit. "We have... history."

"Don't we all," Clara laughs. "Listen, if you want him to back off without drama, mention Jamie a few times. David's ego can't handle competition. He'll retreat faster than his hairline will in ten years."

You can't help but snort at that.

"Or," Clara continues, her finger tracing the neckline of your dress thoughtfully, "you could always make him think you're more interested in someone else." Her eyes meet yours with unmistakable suggestion, her tongue darting out to wet her lower lip.

"Clara, are you...?"

"Flirting? Absolutely." She doesn't bother to deny it. "That kiss wasn't just good for a dare. It was good, period."

You feel heat rising to your cheeks that has nothing to do with the vodka cranberry. This female body responds to her proximity in ways that surprise you—a flutter in your stomach, a quickening of your pulse.

"I'm not saying we need to U-Haul it," Clara clarifies with a soft laugh. "But if you wanted to have some fun, explore this new look of yours..." She trails off, her meaning crystal clear.

"I—I'll think about it," you manage.

"You do that." She winks, adjusting one last fold of your dress. "Now, about David—men are simple creatures. If he gets too intense, just tell him you're taking time to figure yourself out. He'll back off, trust me." She glances over your shoulder. "Speaking of the devil."

David approaches with another round of drinks, his eyes immediately dropping to your enhanced cleavage before he catches himself. "Everything okay over here?"

"Just girl talk," Clara replies smoothly. "Mia was feeling a bit exposed in her dress. I helped her adjust."

David's eyes linger on your chest a moment longer than necessary. "Looks... better," he offers awkwardly.

Clara shoots you a pointed look that clearly says: See what I mean?

23:45 | Saturday 2 August 2025 | Fox & Crown pub, Putney

[TIMER] | Midnight | 15 minutes remaining