Page 41 of The Mood Board

The diner near our house was our go-to spot. It had been where Liam and I had gone for our first meeting about his interior design. I hadn’t realized it then, but for Liam, the meeting had been less about his home and more about learning about me.

Knowing his history with the diner, I could see now that his taking me here had been a compliment and a testament to how much he had already liked me. I wasn’t even sure he knew the significance, but the diner was like home to him, the people who ran it like family, and he had introduced me in the early days of our connection.

This was where we often came to dinner, choosing it even over the more expensive restaurants we could have picked. It was a neighborhood staple, the place where people met to connect. It was also where Liam had spent his high school and college nights coding the program that would launch his company and save so many lives—we always ate in that same booth if it was available.

The owners, a husband and wife, had helped care for Liam and his family when Hope, Liam’s mother, had gotten sick. Liam had been on the swim team with their son.

It was like being part of a family, and we needed that more than ever now.

I still hesitated when my hand closed around the door handle. I had been here by myself, of course. Many times. But always with the knowledge that Liam was away on a work trip, working late, or that I was picking up takeout for us. It felt wrong to come here without him, especially when his freedom had been taken away with a letter, the ring of a doorbell, and the drop of a gavel.

But I also needed comfort, familiarity, and family. And food. And that won out over my hesitation.

The older woman at the cash register looked up as the bell over the door rang, and her eyes widened before crinkling with worry.

“Bailey.”

“Hi, Joanna.”

The woman came around the counter, arms outstretched, and pulled me in for a tight hug.

“We’ve been so worried,” she said, finally pulling away. “How is Liam? How are you doing?”

“I’m doing okay. Well, I guess okay is an overstatement,” I admitted with a sigh as I sat on one of the stools at the counter. “I’m surviving, one step at a time and all that. And Liam is doing as well as can be expected.”

“Are they going to let him out?” Joanna asked, returning to the opposite side of the counter and pulling a mug out from the invisible space beneath.

“No,” I sighed again, the word filling me with dejection and exhaustion. “The judge denied him bail.”

“That’s terrible.” The woman’s expression soured into an angry scowl as she poured the contents of a coffee carafe into the mug and pushed it over the green Formica toward me. “How could he deny Liam bail? Isn’t that only for dangerous criminals or people who will make a run for it?”

I shook my head, unable to answer the question, tearing off the top of two sugar packets at once to dump into the coffee. I added a third one because I needed something sweet. Then I poured so much cream my coffee was the color of milk chocolate, heavy on the milk.

Joanna leaned her forearms on the counter, brow still knotted in a scowl. “We couldn’t believe it when some of your neighbors came in to tell us what had happened, and then when we saw it on the news, I was so angry. Joe almost called the TV station to complain—they don’t know him at all, haven’t taken the time to get to know him and his work, and they’re already acting as though he’s guilty.

“The court of public opinion,” I sighed a final time, suddenly feeling exhaustion down to the marrow of my bones. I stared at the coffee without drinking it, watching the ripples dancing across its surface, from one side to the other, smaller each time.

That letter had set off so many ripples. We were seeing the effects of some, but others wouldn’t show up until later. Tom had told me that, so far, the business hadn’t been affected, but we all knew it was only a matter of time.

Worse, Liam’s trial could take months. He would spend all that time languishing in prison, unable to run his company or put his life back together. We would miss our wedding date.

Something had to be done now. I just wish I knew what it was.

“I put your usual in. You look like you could stand to eat something.”

I looked up to find Joanna watching me, her smile full of empathy.

“Sorry.” I sat upright, still holding the mug between my hands—the warmth was comforting. “I’m exhausted.”

“Of course you are.” The older woman reached across the counter and squeezed my hand. “This situation is terrible, but Liam is lucky to have you.”

“Thanks.” I tried for a smile, but it felt strained. And probably looked it, too.

“It will be out in just a few minutes, okay?” Joanna squeezed my hand and moved off to help customers at another table.

I had to do something to help Liam. I was determined to. But where did I start?

As suspicious as the fact was that Janelle had changed her name to work with Liam at his company, I didn’t have any evidence that she had done anything illegal. Her story didn’t seem truthful, either, but there was a chance it could be. All my research that afternoon had turned up very little, and certainly nothing illegal, despite my intuition telling me she was up to something.