Olivia didn't have a chance to react. Maybe if she'd been sober, she could have avoided the sudden, awful intrusion that occurred when the threw the handful of muck into her face. It [was], at least in some part, horse manure. She could smell it, and she could taste it on her lips. If that wasn't sobering, only God knew what could help this woman. She took a step back, spitting at the ground in a desperate attempt to clear her mouth of the horrid taste of horse shit.

A moment later, the socialite was gagging. She had something to help this though--the taste at least. A different pocket was reached into and she withdrew a flask, taking a mouthful from it. She swished it around in her mouth to cleanse it of the manure and then spat it out. What a waste! But she didn't like her booze that much. Dark eyes glowered at Edward as she gestured toward him with the flask--it appeared to be made of silver.

"I bet you want this too, don't you?" Olivia snarled and her lips curled menacingly. "Well too bad. You're not getting it. Go on, get. Before I scream. And I bet you if I scream, someone will come. They tend to do that when ladies scream."