Page 1 of The Mood Board

Chapter 1

Liam

––––––––

“THANKS, FRANK.”

I held my hand out to the man who had been my driver for the past two weeks, a man nearing sixty with bristly hair and an even more bristly New York disposition. He took my hand solemnly and shook it.

“My pleasure, Mr. Bradford. Any time you’re here in New York, call me up, and I’ll come drive you around town.” He said it as sincerely as a vow, and I believed that the man standing at the side of the open Town Car door would dump any current client and speed over to wherever I was.

“And next time, I’ll get you a private jet home. No need to fly commercial for someone of your stature.” He touched the side of his nose and winked.

“Thank you, Frank. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I appreciated the offer, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know exactly what was behind the gesture and the wink. And I wasn’t about to tell him I chose to fly commercial—I had never felt comfortable flying private for most things. I just wasn’t that guy.

Except for our honeymoon, of course. I was pulling out every single stop I could. I didn’t do much with my money beyond charities, but I had no compunctions about using as much of it as I wanted on the woman I loved. My fiancée—who would then be my wife—was entirely worth it, and I planned to show her that truth in every way possible for the rest of our lives together.

I was only a teenager when my mother passed away, and it showed me just how short life was and how easily you could lose the people in it. I took every chance to tell the people close to me how I felt, Bailey most of all.

“You have plans when you get home?” the man asked as he handed my messenger bag over.

“Nothing except holding my fiancée for as long as she’ll let me,” I confessed, taking the bag and then the rolling suitcase.

“I’m glad to hear you have someone waiting for you at home.” Frank took the tip I gave him smoothly. “A good woman is hard to find. I hope you don’t mind the advice, Mr. Bradford, but don’t let her go.”

“I won’t, Frank,” I assured him.

“Have a safe flight, Mr. Bradford.” Frank held up a hand before he disappeared into the car. I did the same as he eased it into traffic, a final thank you for taking me around New York and waiting through my meeting, some of which had seemed interminable.

Those few moments when I’d had a break, the man had taken it upon himself to show me his city, as he had put it, which meant holes in the walls, food carts, and even a food truck court. If nothing else, I had eaten well on this trip between the exclusive restaurants and catered social events.

The only thing lacking had been Bailey, who I missed with a fierce ache that surprised even me. The trip was only two weeks, not forever. But it had felt that way without her beside me at the seemingly endless parade of dinners, intimate gatherings, and especially in the big, empty hotel room bed at night.

I missed her curled up beside me, missed the reassuring sound of her breathing. I even missed how she would pull the blankets from on top of me to curl up into a cocoon when she got cold in the middle of the night.

I missed everything about her, to the point I had called my assistant to help me charter a private flight home. Except the one time I wanted one, there were no planes to be had.

Tonight couldn’t come fast enough—I couldn’t get Bailey in my arms fast enough.

To have such a strong, driven, bright, funny, and loving woman in my life was everything I had hoped for and so much more.

She had stumbled into my life, almost literally, when I had gone up to look for something in my best friend’s—the CTO of our company—home office. The interior designer working on his new home, I had been the one to stumble after opening the door and finding her working there. My heart had stopped and fluttered for a moment, and from that moment on, Bailey had been the only thing I could think about.

Which led me to my idiotic plan to have her re-design the interior of my home. Well, that part hadn’t been quite as idiotic—I hadn’t needed my house redone, but she had done an incredible job, and I hadn’t regretted it for a second.

No, the truly idiotic part had been when I had bought two more houses for her to design under the guise they were mine, and had been mine, just so I could see more of her.

Would it have been smarter just to ask Bailey out? Absolutely. But she had also been extremely gun shy from her asshole of an ex-fiancé, who had cheated on her repeatedly, lied about everything, and tried to make her believe it was her fault for being a “workaholic.”

At the time, I rationalized the problem by telling myself she would have said no if I had asked. She needed to get to know me first. Which wasn’t entirely wrong—it had given me the time I needed to show her I was a good guy. But it had been built on an enormous lie of omission that had grown larger and larger until it had gotten away from me. When Bailey found out, I had nearly lost her.

Despite our blossoming romance, I’d expected her to leave at that moment and never look back. She had every right to, and I wouldn’t have blamed her even with a shattered heart.

But by some miracle, she had given me a second chance. And there hadn’t been a moment since that I wasn’t trying to earn her love.

It was early enough that the airport was still quiet. I checked in, made it through security relatively easily, and headed for the first-class lounge, where a warm cup of coffee waited for me. And maybe a last bagel before heading home.