Page 45 of The Mood Board

I handed my ex his whiskey, then folded myself down onto the couch beside him, as close as I could force myself.

Russ looked me in the eye, and I had to force myself to pretend that I wasn’t as affected as I was. “Bailey, I’m sorry about what’s happening, but seeing your name made me realize how much I miss you.”

Something settled on my knee, and I looked down to find his hand there. I had to swallow before I looked back at him, hoping the ripples of water in my glass wouldn’t give away how much my hands were shaking.

“What are you saying?” I asked.

“Bailey, I want you back,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, a ploy I knew he used to draw people—mostly other women—in.

“I’m engaged—” I started.

“I’m the one for you. You know that.” Russ cut me off. “It’s always been me, Bailey, and it’s always been you. We belong together, and it’s taken me all this time to realize it.”

Russ stared into my eyes, using every ounce of his charm to convince me he was telling the truth. Once, it might have worked. It had pulled me in many times. But this time, I saw through his act, how he molded his expression, the look in his eyes, even the curve of his lips and the touch of his hand. Each was carefully thought out, planned, and practiced to help him get his way.

Before I could stop it, laughter bubbled into my throat and burst out. I had to put down my water before it spilled, and soon, I was wiping tears from my eyes.

“Sorry,” I gasped, unsure where the laughter had come from. It certainly wasn’t joy or happiness. Maybe it was that I had finally seen Russ’s mask for what it was—a mask, and a shoddy one, at that.

He had drawn his hand from my knee during the episode, his eyebrows drawn in so far they almost touched as he glared at me.

“You think my confession is funny?” he demanded,

I did, but not in the way he thought. And I knew if I wasn’t careful, he would get up and leave, and I would never get information out of him.

“Sorry,” I said again, breathing through the last of my manic giggles. “I think the stress is getting to me.”

“Well, your emotions always were delicate.”

Russ threw the comment out there as though it was nothing, even though I knew it was as planned as all the rest of his moves, and it had been meant to cut me down a notch.

That one I knew by heart.

Still wiping away tears, I met his gaze again.

“I saw that you’re the CEO of a tech firm now,” I said, changing the subject.

“Yeah.” He waved his hand like it was nothing, but I saw the curl of one corner of his lips and the gleam in his eyes.

“Why did you switch from interior design to tech?” I asked. In this, at least, I was genuinely curious.

“It’s the money, isn’t it?” he asked, the gleam growing in his eyes.

At first, I didn’t understand what he was talking about. It took a moment to realized he meant the men I was attracted to. I reacted without thinking, drawing away, my face twisting into a grimace at the thought, but Russ was already talking about himself again. “I took over the design firm we used to work for. It was a dump, but I turned it into something spectacular—added a lot of new tech and all that. When I sold it, I made a nice profit. But I wanted more, and tech is where the money is. Started as CEO of another company, and here I am. I’m going to be the next Bill Gates.”

I almost rolled my eyes but didn’t. That still didn’t explain the jump, but, as I’d guessed, Russ could talk himself into nearly anything. I had to give him that much.

“And I heard you had someone working for you—Mallory Parker?”

“I don’t know that name,” Russ said quickly—a little too quickly.

“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “I saw her name on your company’s website.”

Russ eyed me. “Why do you care?”

“Her name came up a while ago at one of the galas Liam and I attended. I heard there was some drama.” The story was entirely fudged, but I hoped to find some kind of connection between the man in front of me and Liam’s new CIO.

“Your boyfriend takes you to lots of galas?” Russ asked instead of following my line of questioning—annoyingly. It would have been too easy, anyway.