Skipped at the altar, Taken by his uncle Novel

Chapter 120 Joanne was pretty tipsy, and this time, Klein was the one driving her home. He switched from the back seat to the front, so the two ladies could have the back seat to themselves. Luckily, Whitney knew where Joanne lived. "Joanne, just hold on a little longer, we're almost home," Whitney said. Klein watched as Whitney refused to let go of his wife Joanne, his eyes growing darker. Klein: [Where are you right now?] Oliver: [Huh? What's up, Klein? Are you asking me out or something?] Klein: [Your ex-girlfriend is drunk.] Oliver: [Where is she now?] Klein: [I'm about to take her home.

Seems like someone gave her a hard time. Come on, she's your ex. Aren't you gonna step up?] After that, Oliver went quiet. "Whit, you know what? The chances of men being reliable are even smaller than pigs being able to climb trees. Even though you married Klein, you still gotta protect yourself." Joanne slurred. Joanne was so drunk that she had no clue how long Klein's face was in the passenger seat. Whitney was at her wits' end. "Alright, alright, Joanne, just take it easy, will you?" But Joanne was too drunk to care about anything. "Whit, listen up!

You gotta keep an eye on his money, okay? Klein's way older than you, that's kinda rough on you, isn't it?" Joanne blurted out. Whitney gritted her teeth, exasperated. "Joanne, please, give it a rest, will you?" She was genuinely worried that Klein would feel offended and that Joanne might end up being kicked out of this industry. Klein pulled a face. "Seriously, have I ever offended your friend?" 'Did she really just call me old?' Klein thought, feeling a bit offended. "Didn't you? You're Oliver's buddy. You are birds of a feather, always stirring up trouble together.

"Anyway, you're all just a bunch of jerks." Joanne slurred. Chapter 120 Whitney didn't know if Klein was really a jerk or not, but she was definitely in trouble now. Klein's cold gaze landed on Whitney. "Is that what you think of me, too?" "Of course not!" Whitney forced a smile. "She's just drunk, Klein. Don't take it to heart. She doesn't know what she's saying." "But drunk words are honest words," Klein replied. After that hellish ride, Whitney helped Joanne into the bedroom, found a towel, and gently wiped her face. Luckily, Joanne just mumbled a couple of times before passing out.

Whitney fixed her some warm lemon water, set it on her nightstand in a thermos, and scribbled a quick note before slipping out. But even after she got in the car, Whitney still couldn't shake off her unease. "Hey Klein, can I crash at her place tonight?" Whitney asked. Klein didn't even hesitate. "No way!" "Relax," he said, softening his tone. "Someone's gonna look after your friend in a bit." "Who?" Whitney asked. Klein shot her a meaningful look. "Who else? The big bad jerk." Whitney was speechless. Klein helpfully sent all the voice messages to Oliver, always playing the anonymous hero.

When Oliver hit play on the recording in Joanne's apartment, his face got darker by the second. ***** The next day. Whitney kept an eye on the clock and called Joanne as soon as she figured she'd be awake. Her hungover friend sounded miserable, her head pounding. "Whit..." Joanne groaned. "Joanne, are you okay? Did you drink the lemon water I left by your bed?" Whitney asked. Joanne was still groggy. "Did you send me home last night? Sorry for all the trouble, Whit. "When you've got time, I'll take you out for dinner," Joanne said. "No worries, it's nothing.

Just relax, and if you need to, take a few days off. Get back on your feet before heading back to work," Whitney replied. Joanne suddenly let out a yelp. Whitney frowned at her phone, puzzled. "Joanne?" There was a quick, startled yelp from the other end of the line. "Mm, I'm good. Whit, my head's still killing me. I'm gonna crash for a bit, so I'm hanging up now. Talk later," Joanne mumbled. Whitney couldn't help but worry. "Do you want me to come over and look after you?" Joanne let out another soft groan. "No, seriously, I'm fine. I'm hanging up.

I will hit you up later." Whitney muttered to herself, 'She really hung up in a hurry' "Who was that?" Klein asked. It was the weekend. He had just come out of the gym. "It was Joanne. I wanna go check on her. She sounded kinda off," Whitney said. "No need," Klein replied. Whitney looked puzzled. "Why not?" "Oliver is there," Klein said. Whitney was shocked. "Relax. Oliver might be an asshole, but he's not gonna do anything to your friend. Whatever's going on between those two, just let them handle it," Klein said. As he spoke, Klein reached over and ruffled her hair. "Come on, Mrs.

Harris, why don't you think about how we're gonna pose for our wedding photos tomorrow?" Whitney's face turned a little red, and she didn't say another word. Klein had handled all the wedding photoshoot stuff, and to be honest, Whitney hadn't even set foot in a bridal shop yet. "Are we shooting all day tomorrow?" Whitney asked. "Yeah. Are you excited?" Klein replied. Her ears burned. "It's alright, I guess." Klein leaned in closer. "You don't think I'm too old for you, do you?" Klein was clearly bothered whenever someone called him old. Whitney shook her head. "No way. You're not old.

You are mature. That's all." ***** Klein didn't exactly take that as a compliment. ***** After hanging up, Joanne pushed away Oliver, who was trying to snuggle up to her. "Oliver, we have broken up," Joanne said. "Joanne, you dumped me. I never agreed!" Oliver shot back. Joanne's eyes turned icy. "But you're about to get roped into some family marriage. I have to break up with you. Do you expect me to be your secret lover or something?" "No, there won't be an arranged marriage. Just give me a little time to handle my dad, alright?" Oliver pleaded.

Joanne shoved him away, grabbed her clothes from the floor, and threw them on haphazardly. "No. We're over. I don't go back to my exes." She snatched her bag from the couch, pulled out a wad of cash, and tossed it onto the bed. "Thanks for your service last night." "Do me a favor and clean up before you go," she added. Oliver's eyes darkened as he stared at the stack of cash on the bed. 'Is she taking me as a gigolo?' Oliver thought, his jaw clenched. He gripped her arm tightly, refusing to let go. "Joanne, what's that supposed to mean?" Joanne curled her lips in a playful smirk.

"Nothing much. Just a little tip for your hard work. Don't complain. You know I am not that rich. "But honestly, I think that's a fair price. "If you really think it's too little, well, I can add a little bit more." Oliver was speechless. She couldn't believe that the girl who had been moaning in his arms last night was acting so cold at the moment. He was about to lose his mind. Dex Morgan Dex Morgan works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.