?<strong>Chapter 1237:</strong>


    Laney, still brimming with anger, red at Kira.


    “I’ll deal with youter,” she said firmly, her voice low butmanding.


    Without sparing Kira another nce, Laney turned and left the dressing room. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out how to salvage the situation. She needed a new costume—fast.


    Laney instinctively reached for her phone. Cliff’s name was the first on her contact list, and for a fleeting moment, she considered calling him. But she shook the thought away and dialed Gerry instead.


    Coincidentally, Cliff was with Gerry, and he overheard the call as it came through.


    Hearing the urgency in her voice, Gerry reassured her, “Don’t worry. I’ll get you a dress. There’s bound to be a shop near the theater. I’ll be there soon.”


    “Are you sure?” Laney asked, her anxiety spilling into her tone.


    “The show starts in an hour. Will it really be in time?”


    “An hour is plenty,” Gerry said confidently.


    “You’ll see me in half an hour.”


    Normally, Gerry wasn’t one to make bold promises. But today, with Cliff behind the wheel, he felt an unshakable sense of assurance.


    Cliff, who had been listening silently, didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he quickly pulled up a map, pinpointed nearby costume shops, and headed straight for the closest one. It took him less than twenty minutes to find and purchase a dress.


    Gerry peeked into the bag, inspecting the outfit.


    “Their outfits are custom-made costumes,” he said, a hint of worry in his voice.


    “This one won’t match the others. Won’t that cause problems for Laney?”


    Cliff’s expression remained unreadable. His tone was calm but firm.


    “I’m the one funding this performance,” he said.


    “No one will dare say a word.”


    Gerry nodded.


    “True.”


    As they drove toward the theater, Gerry suddenly nced at Cliff.


    “By the way, Cliff, how do you know Laney’s measurements so well?”


    Cliff kept his eyes on the road, replying tly, “I estimated.”


    Gerry raised an eyebrow.


    “Estimated? It’s a ballet costume. Those need precise measurements. What are you, a walking measuring tape?”


    Cliff didn’t bother responding. Instead, he parked the car and got out, walking ahead.


    Pulling out his phone, Cliff checked for any missed calls or messages from Laney. There were none. It wasn’t that she couldn’t reach him. She had simply chosen not to and gone to Gerry instead. But she used to call him for everything.


    Half an hourter, Laney spotted Gerry as he arrived with the bag. Relief flooded her chest, and she hurried toward him.


    “Gerry!” she called out, her voice brimming with gratitude.


    In her rush, she nearly slipped on the polished floor, but Gerry caught her arm just in time.


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