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When they returned with all the shopping, a woman, who Oliver assumed was Maureen, was also sitting on the island in Oliver’s chair. He scowled; he already didn’t like her. That was his seat, and he didn’t like the idea of her having her ass parked in it. Oliver looked over at Matt, who seemed frozen in his place, as he stared at her small back, her dark hair cascading down it like waves. Oliver rolled his eyes at him and gave him a little nudge. He looked around, coming out of his daze and gave him a small smile. What a poor, poor, fucker. Oliver made himself another cup of coffee. His other half-drunk cup was sitting on the sink. Coffee, man, he had missed his coffee, in the past, he had missed good coffee. “Hi, I’m Maureen,” she said as she walked over. She held her hand out to Matt