"Yes, it was my decision."
Maxwell Peary smiled suggestively, nodding in agreement after receiving Nia Mitchell's hint. But as soon as the words were spoken, an ambiguous atmosphere filled the air, enough to make one blush uncontrollably.
CEO! SNIFFLE, how could he be... be so impudent?
Frederick Goldsmith didn't linger, to avoid making Nia Mitchell feel uncomfortable. After putting down the fruit platter, he exchanged a few words and then departed.
In the vast living room, only the two of them remained. The heat on Nia Mitchell's face hadn't subsided as she awkwardly reached for the fruit platter. "Uncle, do you want some?"
Nia Mitchell generously offered him some, reaching out with a small piece of kiwi.
Maxwell Peary frowned. There were so many toothpicks by the fruit platter; why did she have to grab the fruit with her bare hands?
