Sitting down at the table, the fragrance of red wine filled the air, and Evelyn Peary was the first to take a small sip.
"Hmm, this wine tastes really good. Do you have more at home, Maxwell?"
"None left."
"What? I was hoping to take a few bottles home."
Evelyn Peary looked disappointed.
"A few bottles? You've got some nerve."
Maxwell Peary couldn't be bothered to respond to her; the more exquisite the wine, the more precious it is. Many of these wines are one-of-a-kind.
Its value lies in this.
Luckily, Andrew Davidson doesn't care for wine, so whenever he gets good wine, he sends it over.
"But I still have a few bottles in the wine cellar that are just as good. You can take some when you leave."
Maxwell Peary spoke with a slight smile.
"Well, what's the catch?"
Just looking at Maxwell Peary's expression, it's clear he is scheming something.
No way Maxwell Peary would be so generous as to give something away.
"Take mom with you."
Silvia Waterborne: ...
