Chapter 141: Unease

After returning to the studio, Claire Grace followed Blaine Jackson through the side door. 

"Mr. Jackson, do I really need to buy so many clothes?" Claire asked, arms laden with four outfits and two pairs of shoes. Blaine, carrying even more—six outfits, four pairs of shoes, and various accessories and jewelry—seemed unfazed. It was enough to last her for a long time. 

"You'll wear only these clothes from now on. Throw away everything else," Blaine said as he set the bags down, opened the door for her, and then picked everything up again before entering and closing the door behind them. 

"Oh, okay." Claire shrugged. Apart from the outfit she had worn when leaving the Zeller household and the clothes Sarah had lent her, she didn't have much to discard anyway. "But these must be expensive, right?" she added, recalling the delight on the faces of sales associates at every boutique they visited. Especially when Blaine swiped his card—there was awe and admiration in their gazes. 

"They're not that pricey," Blaine replied nonchalantly as he headed upstairs. 

"Really?" Claire glanced at the tags, only to find that most had been cut off, except for the first outfit she had tried on. 

"Stop fussing. I'm hungry. Go make dinner," Blaine said, tossing the bags onto the floor and collapsing onto the couch. He looked exhausted. "Just don't cook eggplant. Anything else is fine." 

"Alright." Claire carefully put everything away in her room before stepping back into the living room. She saw Blaine lying on the couch, eyes closed, as if already asleep. 

She fetched a light blanket from her room and draped it over him. Gently, she moved his hand, which was resting awkwardly under his head, and placed it by his side. Then, she turned and headed into the kitchen. 

The sound of her footsteps faded, and Blaine slowly opened his eyes. He raised the hand she had just touched, his gaze lingering on his wrist, as if he could still feel the warmth of her palm. 

What was happening to him? Why did her smile suddenly flash through his mind? Why did seeing her cry stir a strange ache in his chest? This couldn't mean… His brows furrowed as a flicker of unfamiliar emotion crossed his striking eyes. 

It couldn't be that. He had always seen Claire as a friend, maybe a little sister, like his younger sibling, Ellie. Or perhaps just an ordinary assistant. Besides, she was a married woman deeply in love with her husband, Lucas Zeller. Despite their recent quarrel, Blaine knew her heart belonged to Lucas and always would. 

"Mr. Jackson, you're awake? What's wrong with your hand?" Claire's voice broke his thoughts. She had returned from the kitchen and noticed him staring at his hand. Worried, she took it and began to massage it gently. "Is it sore from carrying too many bags earlier?" 

"Of course not. Do I look as frail as a girl to you?" Blaine replied, pulling his hand away awkwardly. He averted his gaze, avoiding her clear, trusting eyes. She had absolute faith in him, and he knew it. That trust was why he needed to suppress the strange feelings that had surfaced. 

"Is dinner ready?" he asked abruptly. 

"Yes, it's almost done. I just need to set the table," Claire said, tilting her head in curiosity. "Mr. Jackson, your face is really red. Are you—" 

"The weather is too hot," Blaine interrupted, quickly walking toward the kitchen. 

Claire watched him go, puzzled. 

Why did Mr. Jackson seem so different after his nap? 

As she mulled it over, her phone rang, its sudden chime breaking the silence in the living room. Startled, she ran to her room to answer it. 

"Hi, gorgeous. Can I have the honor of taking you out to dinner tonight?" a cheerful male voice greeted her. 

Claire hesitated. "Uh… are you Roy Lin?" 

"Ah, you wound me! After all this time, you still don't recognize my voice? And why do you insist on calling me Mr. Lin? Call me Roy, or better yet, Big Brother Roy." 

"But why are you suddenly inviting me to dinner?" she asked, a hint of suspicion creeping into her voice. Could Lucas have put him up to something? 

"It's to thank you for being the bridesmaid at my wedding," Roy said after a moment's pause, clearly fishing for an excuse. 

"But that was months ago!" Claire pointed out. "Isn't it a bit late for a thank-you dinner?" 

"Why are you overthinking it? Just come. I'll text you the restaurant name and address. And don't bring anyone else. Just you." Before Claire could respond, Roy hung up abruptly. 

"Hello? Roy? Hey!" Claire stared at her phone in exasperation. "He definitely learned that trick from Lucas," she muttered. 

"Roy invited you out for dinner?" Blaine's voice startled her. She looked up to find him standing at the door, his expression unreadable. 

"How did you know?" Claire asked, surprised. 

"Don't be so shocked. You called him Mr. Lin and then Roy. You don't have many close friends, so it's obvious you were talking about Roy Lin, Sarah's husband," Blaine explained matter-of-factly. 

"But I don't understand why he wants to have dinner with me," Claire said, frowning. 

"Whatever the reason, you should go. In fact, you must go," Blaine insisted. 

"What?" Claire blinked, taken aback by his sudden seriousness. 

"If Roy's inviting you, it's likely about Lucas. You have to go. I'll drive you there." 

"You'll drive me?" But Roy had specifically said to come alone. 

"I'll drop you off and leave right away. I'm too tired to stick around for boring conversations," Blaine said, already reading her thoughts. She was too transparent, her every emotion written plainly on her face. 

"Okay… but I feel bad making you do this," Claire murmured. 

"Don't overthink it. Hurry up, or I'll change my mind," Blaine said, feigning impatience as he turned away. 

"Alright, alright! Wait for me." Claire grabbed her bag, slipped her phone inside, and followed him downstairs. 

When they arrived at the restaurant Roy had mentioned, Claire hesitated at the entrance. 

"Hey, Claire, what's wrong? Did you step in glue? Why aren't you moving?" Blaine called out teasingly from the car window. 

"I feel uneasy… Can you come in with me?" she asked nervously. 

"What, are you afraid Roy will eat you? Or that he'll make you wash dishes if he dines and dashes?" Blaine quipped, raising an eyebrow. 

"…I'm afraid *he* might be there," Claire admitted softly. 

"Isn't that a good thing?" 

"What?" 

"If he's there, you won't have to worry about paying the bill," Blaine joked. 

"Mr. Jackson, I'm serious!" Claire protested. 

"Look, if Lucas is there, isn't that what you really want? You say you're mad at him, but it's all an act. You love him too much to stay mad forever. Whatever he did, it's probably not unforgivable. So take the chance. Go in, listen to what he has to say, and let yourself move forward." 

"But I haven't forgiven him yet," Claire mumbled. 

"Keep telling yourself that," Blaine said, starting the engine. "Now go in. It's dangerous for a girl to stand around here alone. I'm leaving." 

With a sigh, Claire steadied herself and slowly walked toward the restaurant entrance.