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Five minutes later, I’m still in the same position, no closer to figuring out how I’m going to fix this mess with Rose, when the internal office phone rings on my desk. I already know who it is before I pick up.

“Violet,” I say, bringing the receiver to my ear.

“What the hell, big bro?”

“Let me guess, Janet has a complaint?”

“She just left my office in tears.”

I roll my eyes, not meaning to be so insensitive, but that woman rubs me the wrong way. She’s been poking the bear for years, so she shouldn’t be surprised when the bear finally bites back.

She’s lucky I’ve bitten my tongue this long. That woman may be good at her job, very efficient, but her attitude could use some serious readjusting.

She runs to my sister and complains every chance she gets. I’m not sure why. I own this fucking company; it’s not like I’ll get fired. She, on the other hand, needs to watch her step. I’m an extremely tolerant man until I’m not.

“Oh, please,” I scoff. “I basically told her to do less yapping and more working; I have every right. I’m the one who’s responsible for her paycheck. I’m her boss, not the other way around. I’m growing really tired of her attitude.”

My sister is quiet for a moment before she finally says, “Okay, what’s really going on here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Bronson, I know you better than anyone. Something’s happened to piss you off, and Janet unknowingly wore the brunt of it.”

This is the downside of working with family and friends. They know you intimately, and aren’t afraid to call you out on your bullshit. “If you’re done with the psycho-analysing, I have work to do.”

“Fine,” she replies over a sigh. “Try to be a bit nicer to Janet.”

“Is she going to be nicer to me?”

This time she laughs. “Fair point.”

I end the call, slump back in my chair, and return to the real problem here. “Rose, Rose, Rose,” I mumble under my breath. “What am I going to do about you?”

I’ve always lived an honest life, and I’d like to think I’m a good guy, but the last twenty-four hours seem to have brought out the worst in me. First I pretended to be someone I wasn’t, which was deceitful enough, and now I’ve resorted to stalking.

I’m parked down the street from Rose’s work, watching the entrance like some kind of fucking creep. I’m not going to approach her. I don’t even know why I’m here.

Actually, that’s a lie. I know exactly why I’m here. I just don’t have a good enough reason to justify it.

I told myself I’d drive past; that was it. If I was lucky, I’d catch a glimpse. Then I found myself parking. I checked the time and told myself I wouldn’t stay longer than five minutes. That was forty minutes ago.

“Jesus Christ. What the hell am I doing?” I mumble to myself as I hunch over and rest my forearms on the steering wheel, but as I do, the sudden loud ringing of my phone in the small, enclosed space makes me jolt.

I slump back into my seat and reach for my phone in the centre console. When I see Callum’s number on the screen, I blow out a breath and answer his call. “What?”

He chuckles on the other end. “Vi was right. You’re acting like a moody bitch today. Is that any way to talk to your best friend?”

“What do you want, Callum? I’m busy,” I snap with frustration.

“Busy doing what? Obviously you’re not working, because I’m sitting in your office right now, with my feet on your desk … and why is your seat more comfortable than mine?”

“Get your feet off my desk, arsehole, and I’m the boss, so naturally I get the better chair.”

He chuckles, but I already know he hasn’t removed his feet. “Where are you?” he asks.

“None of your business.”

“Are you still in the building?”