Actually, Owen Lewis hadn't yet come to the Special Assistant Office; even if he had, there would have been nothing for him to do.
The initial intention was for Owen Lewis to handle the special assistant's work, but he couldn't manage it in his current state, so Maxwell had been left with no alternative.
Thus, Maxwell had to let him continue overseeing the Black Market affairs.
Nia Mitchell sat on the bed, the blanket already pulled aside, looking at her feet.
What is Uncle Peary talking about?
Humph!
"If I go to work now, the seat probably wouldn't even be warm before it's time to leave."
It's already past ten, and I still have to get up and take a car from here. The whole morning is practically wasted.
What Maxwell said was definitely meant to tease her.
Hearing Nia Mitchell's grumbles, a smile tugged at the corners of Maxwell Peary's mouth, and he shook his head.
"Or, would it be too much trouble for Mrs. Peary to bring Mr. Peary his lunch?"
