Unexpectedly, Nia Mitchell's call came before she did.
"Hello?"
As he reached out to take the call, Maxwell Peary was pondering whether to tell Nia Mitchell ahead of time that he was already downstairs.
"Uncle."
Nia Mitchell's voice was a bit muffled; she didn't know how to tell Maxwell.
If she told him that she couldn't go home on time on her first day of work, would he be upset?
Moreover, she had promised Uncle that she would come straight home after work.
Hearing Nia Mitchell's voice over the phone, Maxwell paused for a moment.
She clearly had something to say.
"What's up?"
Maxwell asked patiently, his brow unconsciously furrowing slightly.
"I'm going out to dinner with colleagues tonight, so I can't get home early."
Instantly, the CEO sat there with a stiff face.
In the car, the temperature dropped as the veins on his right hand holding the phone stood out.
However, his expression showed no hint of anger or joy.
For a long time, there was no sound from the phone.
