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... but firm, ’get your shit together’ conversation that Maxwell strolled into his office, a bright smile on his face.

He didn’t greet Andrew, and instead placed a hand on his desk, all smiles as he leaned forward, invading Andrew’s personal space. Andrew had no worry about Maxwell seeing his computer. The man owned the company, owned the computer he was working on. Why would he care about that? Instead, he should be worried about what had put that kind of smile on his face.

"So." Ma ...

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