Olivia's POV
Before I could process the disturbing thought of Maxwell knowing my address, his expression hardened, and his voice became cold.
"But that's not why we're here right now." He leaned forward slightly, and the intensity in his gaze made me want to shrink back against the seat. "Where the fuck is my cat, Oliver? And why the hell are you walking around the streets with flyers of Mitchell?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. No words came out.
My brain was short-circuiting, trying to figure out how to explain this in a way that didn't make me sound like a completely irresponsible disaster of a human being who'd somehow lost a billionaire's beloved pet.
"I... she..." I swallowed hard, forcing words to form. "Why aren't you at work? Shouldn't you be in the office?"
It was a desperate deflection, and we both knew it.
