Nia Mitchell stared blankly as Maxwell Peary led her towards the private booth. She looked up at his tall, imposing figure, which gave her a sense of security.
"Uncle Peary."
Nia spoke softly, biting her lip, worried Maxwell might be angry.
"What’s wrong?"
Maxwell stopped, concern etched on his face when he noticed her unhappiness.
"Did I ss up again?"
So that’s why he’s had such a cold expression, not saying a word since he ca back from the restroom, she thought.
Maxwell, realizing his young wife was feeling down, offered a reassuring smile.
"I’m not mad. Don’t overthink it. Co on, let’s eat."
Nia perked up and nodded. That’s right, she thought. I’m the one who was being bothered, not the one causing trouble.
Once in the private booth, Nia quietly took her seat beside Maxwell. All the dishes were her favorites.
Feeling happy, Nia picked up her chopsticks and eagerly reached for a piece of chicken.
"Mmm...this is my favorite! Uncle Peary, you should try so too!"
Just as she was about to offer Maxwell a piece, the door to their private booth was abruptly opened.
"I say, Mr. Peary, you haven’t visited my humble establishnt in quite so ti. What auspicious wind blew you in today?"
Her voice preceded her. A woman in a red suit entered, her brown, waist-length wavy hair exuding an assertive confidence. Her spotless high heels made a distinct CLICK-CLACK sound on the floor.
"What? Not happy to see ?"
Maxwell didn’t wear the polite, distant expression he usually reserved for others. Nia pouted. She had intended to give the chicken piece to Maxwell, but now she looped her chopsticks around and popped it into her own mouth, chewing fiercely.
So annoying! Nia fud internally. These unwelco romantic interests of Uncle Peary’s... I don’t even have the energy to complain about them!
"Happy to see you? Of course, I’m happy! Oh, and you brought a date today? Aren’t you worried I’ll get jealous?"
The woman flirtatiously glared at Maxwell, then took a seat next to him. After speaking, she threw him a seductive wink.
Watching her antics, Maxwell sighed in exasperation.
"If there’s a problem with your eyes, you should go to a hospital and get them checked."
The woman reeled internally. Indeed, she thought, one shouldn’t expect Maxwell Peary to possess a sense of humor. He can make you want to cough up blood in three sentences or less.
"You’re the one with the problem!"
The woman retorted through gritted teeth, glaring at Maxwell once more.
"Enough of that," the woman said. "First, tell , who is this beauty?"
The woman pointed at Nia, her freshly manicured pink nails sparkling under the light.
Nia was taken aback, not expecting the woman to address her. She felt awkward and put down her chopsticks.
"Hello, my na is Nia Mitchell."
She managed a sweet smile. She wanted to keep eating, but it felt impolite under the circumstances.
"Hello, my na is Evelyn Peary. I’m this unromantic fellow’s sister."
Evelyn Peary introduced herself with a smile. "Nia Mitchell, is it? Let tell you a little secret: you’re the first woman my brother has ever brought to Madgar Pavilion."
So, Maxwell treats this Nia Mitchell with such special attention? Evelyn mused. He’s serious about her, then—nine tis out of ten?
Maxwell shot Evelyn an irritated glare. He never knew how to deal with this sister of his.
"Addressing her by her full na? Is that proper? Hmm? You should call her Sister-in-law."
Evelyn’s expression froze. She stared incredulously at the two people sitting before her.
Heh... Evelyn thought, stunned. What did Maxwell Peary just say? Sis... Sister-in-law?
"Maxwell Peary, you’ve really outdone yourself, haven’t you?" Evelyn exclaid. "I never knew you were into cradle-robbing, deceiving underage girls!"
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