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Callum stands and extends his hand. “Callum. It’s nice to meet you, Garry.”

“Greg,” he replies as my eyes flick down to his really loud checked trousers.

I don’t miss the smirk on Callum’s face as he retakes his seat. “My bad. Nice pants, by the way.”

“He’s just come from the golf course,” Violet says in his defence.

“So, Greg,” Mrs Kingsley asks, “Violet tells us you’ve started a new business?”

“It’s a virtual golf experience,” Violet answers.

“We use high-tech simulators to let golfers play some of the best courses in the world without actually being there,” he adds. “You can play a full round indoors, rain, hail or shine, without having to worry about the weather.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Mrs Kingsley answers, her voice polite but distinctly lacking in enthusiasm, as though she can’t quite understand the appeal.

“We should go sometime, Callum … and check it out,” Bronson says.

“Nah,” Callum replies coolly. “I’d rather spend my time doing something that doesn’t involve dressing like a clown. You wouldn’t catch me wearing those stupid pants.”

Violet gasps, and I press my lips together to hide my smile, while Bronson disguises his laugh with a cough. Greg glares across the table, his jaw tightening as the silence stretches between them.

Callum, seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness he’s created, reaches for his beer, brings it to his mouth and takes a leisurely sip.

Chapter 17

Bronson

My office door swings open first thing Monday morning, and Callum waltzes in like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

This is exactly why I can’t do all the dirty, filthy things I want to do to Rose in my office. This man wouldn’t know boundaries if they smacked him on the side of his face.

“Ever heard of knocking?” I grumble.

He rolls his eyes, drops into the seat opposite me, and props his feet on the edge of my desk. “You wanted to see me?”

My eyes move down to his Italian leather dress shoes. “Are you right there?”

“I’m perfect,” he replies, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head. “Although your desk is kind of cluttered and encroaching on my legroom.”

I exhale a long breath. “Remind me why we’re friends again.”

“Because without me, your life would be painfully dull.”

“Or peaceful,” I deadpan.

“Are you going to tell me why I’ve been summoned to your office, or are we going to continue this back-and-forth until one of us dies of old age?”

“Do you have a thing for Violet?”

That’s enough to make him sit up and pay attention. “What? Why would you even think that?”

“The way you acted at lunch yesterday, for starters.”

“That Graham guy was a dick. Violet can do so much better.”

“Greg,” I correct. “And you started insulting him the minute he entered the room. You hadn’t even met him yet.”

“Did you see those pants he was wearing? Enough said.” I eye him sceptically. “Besides, any man who spends four hours chasing a tiny white ball around eighteen holes needs to take a good, hard look at his life choices. Definitely not my idea of fun.”