Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 182

"Clara, leaving Ferguson Corporation was the best move. I told you, Dylan's not exactly Prince Charming. Maybe he only gave you that promotion because he was interested."

As Simon wrapped up, Quinn burst out laughing. "You really think Dylan's into her?"

Shen even teared up from giggling too hard. "Simon, did I ever mention the time I ran into Dylan? When Clara’s name came up, he looked so unimpressed. People even asked him about her, and he said, 'She's not all she's cracked up to be.'"

That line, "not all she's cracked up to be," hit hard, especially since Clara's reputation was infamous around the Capital. Everyone knew her as Simon's keen admirer.

Quinn's laughter mellowed a bit, maybe to keep from losing her cool. "But Clara, don't take it too hard. Dylan's like that with all women."

That didn't make Clara feel any better.

The car rolled to a stop outside a flower shop, and Simon pointed it out.

"Clara, remember this place? After graduation, you got me flowers here, and we took our graduation photos together. I made you a flower crown, but you thought it was ugly and got all huffy with me."

Clara glanced at Quinn, noticing her sour look, and couldn't help but find it funny.

Simon kept reminiscing, "Back then, it was a big deal to give the second button of your uniform to someone special. I wanted yours, but your uniform got stolen, and you had to wear something else on graduation day."

He was talking about high school. A time before Quinn joined the Bradford family when things were less complicated between them.

Clara shut her eyes. Her voice was flat as she said, "Sorry, can't recall any of that."

A shadow of disappointment crossed Simon's face as he gripped the steering wheel. "I thought a trip back to our old school might jog your memory."

[Happy birthday, Clara.]

Just those two cards, with nothing else written.

Clara even wondered if there were secret microchips in them, but they were just plain greeting cards.

Still, the fact they were stashed in such a hidden spot showed how much they mattered.

She furrowed her brow, lying back on the bed, studying the handwriting. It wasn't Simon's, and definitely not Dylan's.

Dylan's writing was more forceful, while this was relaxed.