After Maxwell Peary had finished speaking, he casually leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed, tilting his noble head high, his expression clearly anticipating appeasement.
"Then let's go out to eat. My treat... ahem, you're paying."
Nia Mitchell's smile, which she had worked so hard to muster, froze again. The chance of her actually picking up the tab seemed impossibly remote.
Maxwell still leaned against the door frame, his expression unchanged, saying nothing.
Nia bit her lip and muttered, "Miser."
As expected, rich people are all so stingy, total tightwads.
Maxwell Peary narrowed his eyes dangerously, and the atmosphere in the kitchen changed instantly. Nia felt a chill creep over her.
The man exuding coldness adjusted his stance and then... walked towards her.
"Miser? Hmm?"
His deep voice echoed in her ears, his warm breath making her heart flutter. Nia stood rooted to the spot, swallowing hard.
