Olivia's POV
I stepped out of my apartment, fully dressed as Oliver, and hailed a cab that would take me straight to work.
Each day, I was getting more comfortable and used to being Oliver. I no longer panicked about my adhesive or my wig pulling off.
As we drove through the morning traffic, I mentally rehearsed my game plan. Today marked the beginning of my strategic offensive against Maxwell Wellington. He wanted to play games right? Fine. I'd show him exactly what happened when someone underestimated Olivia Hopton.
But as we passed the karaoke bar from last Friday, I cursed under by breath.
"Shit!"
My voice must've been too loud because the cab driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
"Everything alright back there?" he asked.
"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled, sinking lower in my seat.
