No Strings Attached

Chapter 232

Ian felt his heart plummet. Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

This woman... He was sure he had seen her somewhere before, especially those beautiful eyes and the tender, watery smile that lurked within them. The memory was so distant, so faded, he couldn't quite place when their paths had crossed.

Ian realized he was losing his cool and quickly adjusted his expression. “If it bothers you, I can move to the table over there,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine. Have a seat,” Liana quickly composed herself after her initial shock.

Clara was mortified and kicked Ian under the table in a fit of silent rage, but before she could retract her leg, it was ensnared by Ian's strong limbs. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't break free.

Watching her face turn beet red with annoyance, Ian couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smug grin. He poured her a glass of iced water and offered it with a chuckle, “Is it just me, or is it sweltering in here? Attorney Clara, you look like you could use something to cool down.”

Internally, Clara cursed Ian a hundred times over. But externally, she managed a thin smile. “Thanks, Mr. Hayes, but I can’t handle cold drinks—warm coffee suits me better.”

She proceeded to pour a cup of coffee for Liana and then for herself, hoping to move past the incident. But Ian’s voice, slightly deeper than before, broke the silence. “Why is it so early this month? I thought yours was on the eighth?”

He deliberately kept his voice low, leaning in to ensure she heard, but his attempts at discretion only served to broadcast their private joke to the neighboring listeners.

Clara’s face rivaled the hue of a ripe tomato. Even a fool could decipher the significance of that date. It alluded to a palpable intimacy between them.

Clara felt her facial muscles stiffen and managed to force a tight-lipped response, “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”

As she left, Ian rose too. “Enjoy your meal. I’ve got to take a call,” he said, following her out.

Once the two had departed, Liana turned to Brodie with a gentle look. “He’s got more game than you. Winning Clara over might be a challenge.”

Brodie was unfazed, offering his mother a casual smirk. “Did you recognize Ian from somewhere? You seemed surprised.” As a psychologist, he was trained to notice the slightest details.

Liana shook her head with a laugh, “Not sure, maybe it’s just that his eyes resemble yours. My memory's been gone for over twenty years—it’s not easy to retrieve.”

Sensing a hint of bitterness on his mother’s face, Brodie served her some comfort food, his voice soft and reassuring. “If you can’t remember, then let it be. Taking care of yourself is what's important.”

He hoped she would never recall those memories. They must have been painful, or they wouldn't have haunted her dreams for more than two decades. As for everything else, he was content to seek the answers alone.

Clara had barely stepped out of the restroom when Ian cornered her. With a look of hurt, he pinned her against the cool marble of the wash basin, his hand capturing her chin, his lips taking a retaliatory bite. His voice carried a hint of jealousy. “Clara, don't call him that. It drives me insane, do you understand?”

Heaven knew that when he heard Clara call another man with such familiarity, he felt like he was losing his mind. He wanted to rush over, beat the guy to a pulp, and whisk Clara away. She was his girl and had no business being nice to any other man.

Clara, fuming, pushed him away and wiped her lips as if disgusted. “Ian, don’t expect me to take care of you anymore!”