Oliver's Substitute Bride (Oliver and Jessica)

Chapter 128



Chapter 128

Martin smiled as if nothing had happened. "Hello there."

Scott was a little angry after realizing that they must have had sex just now and he didn't speak

anything.

It was Wendy who took the initiative to speak, "Do you need a ride? We can ask our driver to send you Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

back."

Suddenly, someone knocked on Sally's car window a few more times. So many things happened

tonight. The chauffeur finally arrived.

"Thank you. We're good. Our driver is here." Martin said.

The chauffeur got on and kept apologizing for being late.

...

In the private room on the top floor of the Mose Clubhouse.

Oliver and Martin were waiting to treat Carl on arrival.

Carl pushed the door and saw them. "Why did you come alone? What about your women? Why didn't

you bring them?"

"Why women? It's not convenient for our chat if they come." Martin explained.

Carl teased him. "It's not likely that they refused to come, isn't it?"

Martin had a squint at Oliver. "You've told him."

"Was I telling a lie?" Oliver said faintly.

"All right, Carl, you hadn't come back during the Spring Festival before. Why this year?" Martin asked.

"You can ask him the reason. He insisted on calling me back." Carl pointed at Oliver and replied, "Of

course, I want to come back too. I haven't been home during the Spring Festival for many years, it's a

good chance to reunite as well."

Martin said, "You still know about 'reunite'."

Martin said, "Of course."

Martin suddenly remembered that yesterday, he saw Lambert and Scott sitting together on the first floor

of the Mose Clubhouse. Then he told Oliver the news.

Hearing this, Carl said, "F*ck, the Scott family is financially powerful. If they cooperate with each other,

you will have troubles in the future."

Oliver said calmly, "That's why I called you back."

Carl frowned and said, "Martin, look, will anyone do this to his dear friend? I thought he kindly invited

me back to spend the Spring Festival with him."

Martin smiled and said, "Why did you cry for doing business with him? You should have thought of this

day."

Carl said, "I don't regret working with him. I fought alone in the United States. It was so boring. It's good

for me to come back and fight with him."

"Take it easy. He called you back in case that he would be in trouble, am I right, Mr. Williams?" Martin

said.

Oliver was thinking about something with his eyes closed as if not listening to their conversation at all.

"Oliver, what are you going to do during the Spring Festival?"

Oliver came back to his senses hearing his name. "I'm going on vacation."

"So you called me back to help you look after the house. To be honest, I'm a little confused. You used

to work for the entire year like a clockwork robot, while you're starting to enjoy life and go on vacation."

"Probably it's Mrs. Williams's idea." Martin said.

Carl opened his mouth wide enough to stuff an egg, looking shocked. Then he slowly realized what had

happened. "What did I miss?"

"You've missed too much and get to know it in the future. Now you won't say that he's gay anymore, will

you?"

"It was unexpected for me to see Oliver get married personally. I thought it was just for the sake of

passing down the generations, but I didn't expect him to find true love."

Carl supposed that when Oliver was willing to care about some woman, he must be deeply touched by

her.

In the past, he had joked that Oliver's heart was like a bottomless ice cellar. He didn't expect it to melt

so quickly by a woman.

He almost fell in love with Mrs. Williams as well. Fortunately, he pulled back before it was too late, or he

would have died miserably.

The three of them talked late into the night in the club.

In the end, Carl asked them to stay and have a brotherly night talk. Unexpectedly, both of them left

quickly.

Carl scolded, "You care dates much more than mates. You all have women, so you don't care about

me."

When Oliver got home, he saw Jessica in the kitchen.

He walked up to Jessica, put his arm around her shoulder, and said softly, "What are you doing here?

Why not let the servants do it?"

"Why are you back so early? Aren't you out to see your friends?"

"It has been finished."

Oliver would have arrived home early without necessary work.

He would go home to cook for Jessica or stay with her in the study, taking his computer to Jessica's

study and dealing with his own work, while Jessica would draw or read books.

Sometimes, although people lost their memories, their way of thinking did not change much.

It was only the first time that she purposely made sobering soup for him, only for letting Oliver agree to

get her grandmother in Williams Hospital as soon as possible.

This time, seeing that the man worked hard every day, and often cooked for her at home, she wanted

to do something in return. She didn't know how to cook, but it was easy to learn how to make soup.

Jessica held a spoon, ladled some soup into it, blew it, and put it in Oliver's mouth. "How does it taste?"

Oliver suddenly remembered that when she had brought him the hangover soup with the white

porcelain bowl, but it was smashed to pieces by him.

Now he finally tasted the hangover soup she made. It turned out that having a wife at home and doing

little things for you was so good and comfortable.

Even the taste was better than that of the food made by servants.

Winnie walked in and saw the young master and his wife in the kitchen kissing. She almost laughed but

covered her mouth in time and left.

They, the owners were happy, so the servants were more relaxed as well. Winnie especially liked

Jessica's current personality.

Oliver gulped down the hangover soup.

Then, he held Jessica's hand and they walked up to the study on the second floor.

And he took something out of the cabinet.

It was a tourmaline.

"Where did you get this?"

"A friend saw it and happened to buy it. I saw that you might need it, so I bought it back."

"How much is it? Is it really made of porcelain?"

Although Jessica knew little about antiques, she had observed her grandfather's collections when she

was a child, so she had a good judgment on them. At first glance, she felt that this tourmaline was not

ordinary.

"Just help yourself. It's just a replica of the porcelain." Oliver replied faintly.

"Thank you."

Jessica didn't know how many thanks could repay Oliver's kindness. He always offered her surprises.

Then, she placed the tourmaline directly on her painting table. The more she looked at it, the more she

liked its texture. Although it was a replica, its beauty stood out.

Whether something was real was not that important, as long as she liked it. She used to hear it from

her grandfather Terence.


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