Page 6 of The Mood Board

“Bailey, you know I would never do anything like this,” I tried again. And when Bailey didn’t move or say a word, the hurt grew into a darkness I had rarely felt before. “Bailey, please.”

It was the only word I could say. Did she truly not believe me? In the time we had been together, I had shown her nothing but constancy, love, and dedication.

Save for that big, glaring, idiotic mistake. The biggest mistake I had ever made in my life.

I slumped down on the landing beside Bailey’s feet, burying my head in my hands. I was never, ever going to be able to live that lie down, a lie of omission or not. Not to someone who had spent years being lied to so much and so thoroughly, she had questioned her abilities and mind.

The relief I had felt seeing the house, the excitement of seeing Bailey and holding her in my arms was all swamped by a wall of sorrow, anger, and disbelief.

Who was this person trying to wreck my life? Because it was obvious that’s what this attempt was. Why else would they write this letter that accused me of taking ill-gotten funds to start my business? And why the hell else would they send it to Bailey? There was only one reason. But why were they doing it? I had no clue.

I had rival companies, of course—what business owner didn’t? Especially in the cut-throat tech world. That was, in fact, one of the reasons I had stayed in Sacramento, to hopefully stay outside of that all-for-one and one-for-yourself culture—just one of many reasons, but one of the most important.

So who in the world was trying to undermine me, undermine my company, and jeopardize my relationship with this slander? Because that was what it was—an offense worth legal pursuit.

Except I had no name, address, or even handwriting sample to clue me in on who was coming after me. I didn’t relish the thought of that type of pursuit—again, it was why I had steered clear of Silicon Valley—but if I had to defend my life and my love, I would do it in a heartbeat.

Bailey shifted. “Was that the letter you asked me to look out for this morning?”

I raised my head and tilted back to look up at her. “Really? You really think I would ask you to look for this kind of bullshit?”

I saw the subtle shift in her expression at my rare use of language, and she finally, carefully, sat on the step beside me. Not close enough to touch me, however.

“It was a trip itinerary, Bailey,” I said, and even I could hear the rough fatigue in my voice. “I was going to surprise you with a weekend away on the coast. I know how stressful work and planning the wedding have been for you lately, and I wanted to give us some time together, just the two of us. No work. No phones. Just us.”

This time, Bailey met my gaze and didn’t look away. She pressed her lips together, her eyes flicking away in thought before returning to me.

“I swear, Bailey, I have no idea what this letter is talking about. This damn letter,” I growled, paper crunching as I balled up my fist around it. “You know me. You know I would never take illegal money like that. That’s not who I am.”

Her expression grew hesitant, her lips parting but no words coming out, but she didn’t have to say anything—I knew what she was thinking.

“I know what I did. I know it was stupid. I have apologized a million times and worked every day to make it up to you. It was the only time in my life that I lost my head like that, that I did something like that. And as terrible as that was to do that to you, to have you decorating those houses, it wasn’t taking money from an illegal source to get my business going. Why don’t you believe me?”

Bailey exhaled, started to say something, stopped, and started again. “I do believe you. It’s just hard for me when I—”

“I’m not Russ, Bailey.” I cut her off, shaking my head and pushing myself to my feet. “I don’t know how else I can show you. I’m not going to do something terrible just to get ahead. That’s not what I’m about, and that’s not what my company is about. And if you don’t know that by now, then I don’t know what to do.”

Everything suddenly felt too heavy, like too much. But most of all, even more than horror at the letter, I felt hurt that Bailey’s first response was to jump to the idea that I had done something so reprehensible. As though she didn’t know me at all—or trust me.

“I’m going to bed,” I sighed and started down the hallway. But a hand on my arm stopped me.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” Bailey stepped in front of me, close enough that she had to look up at me, her palm flat on my chest. “My first thought when I saw that letter this morning was that it was someone trying to get money or something out of you—I swear it wasn’t that you could have done this. But then I started thinking, and I have these old habits—”

“Thinking is never a good thing.” I tried to rally my usual sense of humor, but it fell flat for both of us.

Bailey’s lips thinned again like she was trying to smile but couldn’t. “I started thinking, and my mind started going, and these old thoughts started creeping in, and I’m sorry. I really am.” The distrust had disappeared from her eyes as she peered up at me, replaced with earnestness, even if I could still sense hesitancy in the way she held herself just slightly stiffened away from me. “I’m trying my best. Really, I am. Just give me a little bit of time. I swear I believe you, and I know you didn’t do it.”

I slumped back down onto the landing, head in my hands again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“What do we do?” Bailey asked, coming to sit beside me again. Her hand covered my knee, her touch still hesitant but trying to be comforting.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been in this situation before,” I answered. “I know people who have, and one of the big things I’ve learned is not to keep it a secret. Not for long, anyway. Someone always finds out, and then it’s an even bigger mess.”

“But if you put it out there, you know it will take on a life of its own,” Bailey said.

“I know. I know.” Damned if I did, damned if I didn’t.

Tom was going to be furious.

“I guess we keep it quiet for now until we know more. I will tell Tom tomorrow, at least, and the lawyers, of course.”

“I’m sure they’ll know what to do.” Bailey sounded way more confident than I felt. I’d seen this played out a dozen times, and it never ended well for anyone.

“I hope so.”

We went to bed without eating—I couldn’t stomach the thought of anything. And though Bailey had promised to work through her issues, and I had promised to give her time to do it, we still went to bed with tension between us.

I lay awake for hours, even after Bailey’s breathing had slowed in sleep, staring at the ceiling as rain continued to drum on the roof. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. We’d had difficult times, rivals who had tried to beat us at our own game, some by dishonest and even criminal means. But blackmail? About the funding on which I had built my business?

Who had I pissed off? I couldn’t remember a single person, ex-girlfriends included.

I could hope this was a one-time thing, something to intimidate me or fracture my relationship. But something told me worse was coming down the pipeline. And I hoped Bailey could see past her trauma enough to stay with me through it, to support me, because I was going to need it.