Olivia's POV
"Mr. Hopton, what are you doing?" Maxwell's voice cut through my buried laughter.
I shot up from under my desk so fast I nearly hit my head against the desk, my face burning with embarrassment. "Nothing, sir," I said quickly, clearing my throat and trying to comport myself.
Maxwell regarded me with those piercing green eyes, and for a moment I wondered if he could somehow sense that I was internally celebrating his misfortune. But then he winced again and turned his attention back to his coffee.
He picked up the cup with his good hand, brought it to his lips, took a small sip, and then set it down with the expression of someone who had just been personally betrayed by the universe.
"This coffee is cold," he said distastefully. "Mr. Hopton, I need you to go back to Taylor's and get me a fresh cup. This one is unacceptable."
*Of course it's cold, you dramatic disaster. I got it three hours ago!*
