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Seventy-Five
Olivia Westview I didn’t think it would be this bad. Second-degree burns—how could coffee do that? Sure, it was hot, but… was it the clothes? Maybe it stuck to his skin longer because of that damn expensive shirt. Stupid coffee. Stupid me. What if James hates me for this? I could feel the panic bubbling inside me, threatening to spill over. Would he fire me? My heart pounded at the thought. How could I be so careless? Was this some cosmic punishment for wanting more than I should have? For wanting him? Why do you care now, Olivia? You used to hate this place. I shook my head, desperate to shake the thoughts loose. Breathe, Olivia. Breathe. One thing at a time. Focus. My chest felt tight, and I could feel the sting of unshed tears burning at the corners of my eyes. Do not cry. Not
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