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My sister frowns. “So you pretended you were Brendan?”

“Yes,” Rose and I say in unison.

“Is this why you’ve been acting strange for the past week?”

I lift one shoulder, feigning innocence.

Violet studies me for a moment before her eyes widen. “Oh, my God. You set this whole thing up. It all makes sense now. This is why you demanded I only advertise Janet’s position on SEEK and LinkedIn. And why you refused to look at any of the other applicants.”

“I wanted to get her away from her handsy boss. Sue me.”

“So you’re not having a midlife crisis?”

“No. I told you I wasn’t.”

“What about the oranges?”

I grimace again. “I saw Rose leaving her other job carrying a large bag of oranges. I thought she liked oranges.”

“I don’t,” Rose states.

My head snaps in her direction. “You don’t?”

“No. Sir Hands-a-Lot wanted me to spend the weekend with him at his penthouse while his wife was away on a retreat, so I told him I was flying back to Melbourne to visit my sick father.”

“Aren’t your parents on a cruise?” I ask.

“Yes, and he knew that, so I told him my father had contracted scurvy and had to fly home early. Hence the bag of oranges. I was trying to add weight to my story.”

My lips twitch. “Scurvy?”

Rose covers her pretty face with both hands. “I hate lying, but it was the best I could come up with at the time. The alternative was …”

Her words drift off, and the humour drains from the room as something inside my chest tightens. I reach over and place my hand gently on her arm. “I understand why you did it, Rose. That man is a pig.”

When I glance back at Violet, I find her eyes moving between Rose and me. “Am I going to have an issue with you two working together?” she asks. “I just got rid of one problem, and now I have a sinking feeling I’ve created another.”

Rose and I look at each other. “No,” we say at the same time again.

Relief floods me. I half expected her to reconsider taking the position after the way she reacted when I handed her the flowers.

My sister rubs her temple and leans back in her chair. “I did not have this on my bingo card when I got out of bed this morning.” Rose snorts, and I bite back a smile. Violet points a warning finger at both of us. “Whatever the hell is going on here, keep it out of my office.”

I arch a brow. “Your office?”

“I am head of HR.” Her finger moves between Rose and me. “Which means I deal with workplace problems. I do not want this to become a workplace problem. Understood?”

“It won’t,” Rose assures her. “I’m here to do my job to the best of my ability. I have no interest in starting any problems with Not-Brendan …” She winces. “I mean, Mr Kingsley.”

This time, I can’t hold back my grin. Not-Brendan. I have a feeling that name is going to haunt me for a very long time.

“Grab your jacket,” I say to Rose when I exit my office and come to a stop beside her desk.

She glances away from the screen and frowns. I’m really fucking digging those glasses of hers. “Why? Where am I going?”

“To lunch … with me,” I state.

Her attention moves back to the computer screen as she resumes typing. “I’m not having lunch with you, Mr Kingsley,” she deadpans.