Clara was feeling a bit on edge with Nicholas's eyes glued to her. His expression kept shifting from frowning to pursing his lips, leaving her guessing at his thoughts. She felt like she was under a microscope.
The whole room seemed to chill, and when she glanced over, she noticed Dylan wasn’t looking his best. He was pale, sipping water constantly, and his wrist was tense around the glass.
Without hesitation, she got up and went over to him. “Mr. Dylan, are you feeling okay?”
Dylan just lowered his gaze, his hands wrapped around the cup. “I’m fine.”
Clara knew him well enough to realize that even if he wasn’t fine, he wouldn’t bother saying much about it.
Leaning in a bit, she whispered, “Is it your stomach? There’s a pharmacy nearby. I can grab some meds for you.”
Before Dylan could respond, Nicholas tapped the table. “Ms. Clara, please sit down and keep some distance from Dylan.”
Only then did Clara grasp that Nicholas was playing the protective role, thinking she might have some hidden agenda with Dylan. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought and quickly returned to her seat.
Dylan's fingers trembled briefly as he shot Nicholas a look. Nicholas just raised an eyebrow, mentally giving himself a nod of approval. He figured someone like Clara wasn’t right for Dylan. With him around, no sneaky intentions would get past!
Clara sat back, maintaining a good three feet between her and Dylan. The table was massive, designed for private, high-profile dinners, so there wasn’t any room for small talk—or small tables.
As soon as she settled in, Nicholas sneered, “Don’t think I’m unaware of your game. It’s better to drop it. I’ve heard all the rumors flying around. Did you start them? Walter’s still setting up dates for Dylan, which means he’s not into you.”
He kept his voice low, just for Clara to hear. Clara just smiled, closing the menu calmly. “Mr. Nicholas, I know where I stand.”
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