Olivia's POV
At the sound of the coffee cup hitting the floor, Maxwell jumped.
"Oliv... Oliver." He stuttered, as he pushed the woman away from him and quickly moved away from her.
I stared at them open-mouthed - a habit I recently developed ever since I first encountered this man.
He had the decency to look guilty as he stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
"It's not what you think, Oliver. She came on to me. I was caught off guard."
"Max, what are you doing? You don't have to explain anything to your errand boy."
*Errand boy?* The condescension in her voice made my blood boil, but I forced myself to stay focused on the bigger picture.
I looked at him, then at the woman. At him again, then at the woman. And that's when it dawned on me. This woman was Tracy Windhill.
