Olivia's POV
Back at Wellington & Sons, I arrived at my desk before Maxwell returned - thank God for small mercies. I quickly hid my extra food in the small locker behind my desk. Then I settled into my chair and pulled up the files I was supposed to be working on before the morning's disasters, trying to look like a dedicated assistant who definitely hadn't spent lunch plotting revenge and discussing blackmail.
A few minutes later, I heard the sound of Maxwell's footsteps approaching. My spine straightened automatically, my hands positioning themselves over the keyboard.
He walked past my desk without a word, heading towards his table. But then he called out, "Oliver."
Oh God, what now?
I kept my expression neutral. "Yes, sir?"
Maxwell was settling into his chair, as he scanned me suspiciously. "Are you finished cleaning the restroom?"
"Yes, sir. Spotless, just as you requested."
"Good." He tilted his head slightly. "Why aren't you smiling?"
I blinked, confused. "What?"
