Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Ivy Sherwood had booked the restaurant, a place with a very local Lustre flair.

Ivy Sherwood hadn’t booked a private room; if she had, she wouldn’t be able to explain whatever might happen. Even though they were in the main dining hall, Elijah Hawthorne didn’t seem to mind.

She could tell he wasn’t the type to put on airs.

The food arrived quickly. Ivy Sherwood and Elijah Hawthorne ate and chatted together.

Ivy Sherwood knew that a man like Elijah Hawthorne probably didn’t have many friends. The fact that he sought her out meant he must consider her one.

Especially since he’d sought her out today. She had looked it up earlier and found out that it was his birthday, which was why she had agreed to have dinner with him.

However, Elijah Hawthorne didn’t seem to want to bring it up, so Ivy Sherwood didn’t mention it either. They just chatted about other things—work, random odds and ends, a bit of everything.

Before long, the meal was over.

Ivy Sherwood checked the time and saw a message from Quentin Blackwood saying he was already outside.

Ivy Sherwood had planned to quietly go settle the bill, but she was told it had already been paid.

"Why did you do that? We agreed it was my treat."

Elijah Hawthorne chuckled. "Next time, then."

"Who knows when ’next time’ will be."

Elijah Hawthorne said, "Then I’ll just hold you to it."

"Who’s going to remember that far from now? Besides, I’ve already lost count of how many times I owe you." Ivy Sherwood hadn’t kept track herself, and she’d feel bad if she forgot.

’Actually, he was already quite happy today.’

"It’s getting late," Ivy Sherwood said.

"Let’s sit a while longer." Elijah Hawthorne knew Quentin Blackwood was right outside.

"Wait for me here for a second," Ivy Sherwood said. "Don’t leave. Just stay right here."

With that, Ivy Sherwood headed outside.

Elijah Hawthorne didn’t know where Ivy Sherwood had gone, but he waited. A moment later, she returned, carrying a cake in one hand and holding someone’s hand with the other.

In that instant, it felt as though something had pricked Elijah Hawthorne’s heart.

’He hadn’t expected her to know.’

"I saw online that today’s your birthday. I wasn’t sure if it was correct, but I bought you a cake just in case. Happy birthday. I figured you probably don’t like all the fuss, so I kept it simple."

"Elijah Hawthorne, if you ever need any help, you can call me anytime. If you’re looking for someone to have a drink or play cards with, you can always call me and Quentin Blackwood. And if you come to Lustre, you can look us up to hang out."

Quentin Blackwood stood beside them with a cold expression. Ivy Sherwood reached out and nudged him. "You say something, too."

Quentin Blackwood just nodded. "Mhm."

"Heh." Elijah Hawthorne scoffed.

"You’ve got it wrong. Today isn’t my birthday, and you don’t need to pity me." The look in Elijah Hawthorne’s eyes was unreadable, but in truth, it really was his birthday.

Usually, on this day every year, Elijah Hawthorne wouldn’t go anywhere; he’d just stay home. But today, he’d suddenly wanted to see Ivy Sherwood. They ended up playing cards all afternoon and even had dinner together.

Ivy Sherwood said, "Well, if it’s not today, then happy birthday in advance. And I’m not pitying you. I meant what I said. We’re all friends."

Elijah Hawthorne looked at Quentin Blackwood standing beside her. "So I can really call on you two anytime?"

Before Ivy Sherwood could open her mouth, Quentin Blackwood cut in, "Just call me."

"If you want to drink or play cards, you come to me. You’re not allowed to call her!"

Elijah Hawthorne laughed. "Why would I call you? Ivy Sherwood said I could call her anytime. You have to keep your word, you know. I’ll take the cake."

Elijah Hawthorne picked up the cake. "I’m off."

As Ivy Sherwood started to head out as well, Quentin Blackwood grabbed her. "What are you doing? Are you going to see him off?"

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

’It’s not like Elijah Hawthorne is the only one allowed to walk this way. How is this ’seeing him off’?’

Ivy Sherwood pretended not to notice his thick jealousy. "Aren’t you leaving?"

"I haven’t eaten yet."

"Then what would you like to eat?"

"Never mind. I’ll just starve. It’s not like I have anyone to eat with, anyway."

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

"If you don’t want to eat, then let’s just go home."

"I’ll eat! Why wouldn’t I eat?"

"Then what do you want to eat?" Ivy Sherwood asked.

Quentin Blackwood sat right back down where they had been and called a waiter over. "Bring us another round of everything on this table."

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

And so, Ivy Sherwood sat with Quentin Blackwood as he ate the same meal all over again. She had just finished eating, so she couldn’t manage more than a few bites.

Still, it was fine just to keep him company while he ate.

The waiters on the other side of the room were whispering to each other. "I’m telling you, there’s something about that woman. She just finished eating with one guy, and now another super-handsome one shows up!"

...

Quentin Blackwood didn’t eat much, either. After he’d had a few simple bites, Ivy Sherwood said, "Mr. Blackwood, can we go home now?"

"There’s one more thing."

"What else?"

Quentin Blackwood didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled Ivy Sherwood straight to the cake shop next door. His intention was obvious.

Quentin Blackwood bought a cake, and only then did he head home with Ivy Sherwood.

’For a moment, Ivy Sherwood didn’t know what to say. This man... he acted so nonchalant, but deep down, he was clearly upset.’

"Do you still have room for cake?" Ivy Sherwood asked.

Quentin Blackwood said, "That depends on how we eat it."

"What other ways are there to eat cake?"

Quentin Blackwood’s gaze deepened as he smeared some of the frosting on his lips.

The man commanded, "Kiss me."

"Huh?" Ivy Sherwood was dumbstruck.

Then Quentin Blackwood pulled her to him, his fiery kiss descending upon her.

Afterward, Ivy Sherwood found out what "other way" Quentin Blackwood had meant. He’d even collected with interest. He wasn’t eating cake at all—he was eating *her*!

But Quentin Blackwood had been very careful lately. Before, he wouldn’t have listened if she told him to stop, but now, he stopped the moment she said no.

So when Ivy Sherwood woke up, she was in Quentin Blackwood’s arms. He held her close. "Sleep a little longer."

By the time the two of them got out of bed, it was already late in the morning.

...

Nina Scott was working overtime at the office again. Her mother, Mrs. Scott, had called her several times over the past two days, but she hadn’t picked up.

Nina Scott found some time to check on her clothing boutique, only to find Yara Scott there with her friends, feigning interest in shopping.

Yara Scott picked through the clothes as if she were sorting through cabbages at a street market, looking them over before shaking her head. "The quality in this shop isn’t great, but it’s run by family, after all, so I came to give you some business. Otherwise, I would never set foot in a place like this."

’There’s something wrong with this woman,’ Nina Scott thought, watching Yara.

"If you’re going to look down on my things, then don’t bother coming in! I’d say you’re not good enough for my clothes, anyway. Now get out!" Nina Scott grabbed a broom and started shooing them away.

’She couldn’t stand Yara’s attitude. Who did she think she was fooling with that act?’

She ran her own design studio and owned her own boutique; she didn’t see herself as any less than Yara.

"Nina Scott, what is the meaning of this? I was being nice and trying to give you some business!"

"Do I look like I need your dirty money? The sight of you is annoying. Get out!"