Dating His Brother: Forbidden Affair (Heartstring Dating Agency Book 5)

by Lauren Wood

  Dating His Brother

  Heartstring Dating Agency Series

  Lauren Wood

  Copyright © 2021 by Lauren Wood

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Isabella

  2. Isabella

  3. Dawson

  4. Isabella

  5. Dawson

  6. Isabella

  7. Isabella

  8. Dawson

  9. Isabella

  10. Isabella

  11. Dawson

  12. Isabella

  13. Dawson

  14. Isabella

  15. Dawson

  16. Isabella

  17. Isabella

  18. Dawson

  19. Isabella

  20. Dawson

  Epilogue

  The Hot Mess (Sneak Peak)

  Chapter 1

  Also by Lauren Wood

  About the Author

  Exclusive Offer

  Prologue

  I descended the stairs of the Blasiago Luxury Hotel in my emerald Gucci stilettos and matching bag, popping perfectly against my plum-colored, tight-fitted Schiaparelli dress and long flowing wavy red hair. My diamond jewelry reflected against my pale skin. I had been tanning all summer, but never to a point of changing my complexion too much. I preferred my tan without the overbaked look.

  Paired with my flawless makeup, I knew I was looking fabulous. The envious stares of the female guests, combined with the lustful glares from the surrounding men (even the ones with dates) confirmed as much.

  The restaurant and bar were around the corner from the glamorous stairway—meant to give women a chance to show themselves off to the crowd before settling in for dinner. The walls were lined with lush greenery and fountains backed by neon lights. It was one of the most Instagram-worthy places on earth, but I didn’t join in with my friends when they stopped to take selfies in front of the most photogenic spots. My mother always taught me to maintain a certain level of mystery, so I steered clear of those kinds of displays. I preferred to wait to be tagged in others’ photos. It kept me from looking like I was trying too hard.

  And my friends would never hesitate to tag me, even if I didn’t really know why they looked up to me so much. They were a collection of designers, models, actresses, and top tier executives of multi-million dollar companies. They had titles. I was nothing more than an heiress, even if I did fit in seamlessly with the rest of the group. Maybe it had something to do with how often I footed the bill on our extravagant outings. Or the celebrities I had on speed dial in my contacts list.

  Fabulous look, fabulous place, fabulous friends. All with a fabulous price tag that I didn’t have to bat an eyelash at. It was just another night in my life. I had it all, right? Well…The problem with having it all for so long was that after a while, it started to feel like less. I was growing tired of all the same old places and people. Even if we were jet setting around the world—never wearing the same thing twice, much less eating in the same place twice. It was all starting to look the same. It was all becoming too predictable.

  These were the kinds of feelings my mom never warned me about. As an upper class socialite who never worked beyond organizing charity events for the fun of it, my mom raised me well. She taught me everything she knew—how to be graceful, alluring. She taught me how to spend money well (which according to her just meant spending a lot of it and always treating yourself to the best money could buy) and how to exude an air of “rich and classy.”

  Maybe if she was still alive, she could have told me what to do when it all started to feel empty.

  Not that my new feelings of discontentment slowed me down any. I let my friends cajole me into night after night, trip after trip, of flaunting our lives for everyone to envy. That night was no different. Until we settled into our VIP booth and were soon approached by what my friends deemed to be one of the hottest men on earth.

  “Hey, aren’t you that Heartstring chick? Isabella?” He flashed his perfect white teeth. Judging by his muscular body and designer suit, I pegged him for a professional athlete of some kind.

  “Isabella Landson,” I smiled tightly, extending my hand for him to kiss.

  “Got a hot date lined up for tonight?” he grinned.

  “Of course I do,” I yawned, already browsing the menu.

  “Well, if it doesn’t work out…I’m right over there at that table.” He flicked a card out of his wallet and scribbled something on it before handing it to me. “And that’s the suite number I’m staying in.”

  My friends whistled and howled as he walked away. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

  “Phew, girl. He was hot!” Miranda commented, watching his butt from across the room. “What’s the deal with this Heartstring thing anyway?”

  “I missed something,” Veronica leaned in, looking eager to hear more. “Heartstring? Like the dating app?”

  “It was all Jack’s idea,” I groaned. “And believe me…when stuff like that happens, I regret agreeing to it more than ever.”

  Miranda looked at the gorgeous guy, still smiling at me from his table, then back to me. “Oh sure. I feel so sorry for you,” she teased sarcastically.

  My brother, Jack, had been a business consultant since college—and a good one too. The kind that got to fly all over the world to luxury resorts while he worked without spending a penny of our inheritance. At least he did until his old highschool buddy, Lucas Meadows, convinced him to come on at his company full-time. It helped that Jack wanted to shack up with Lucas’s sister, Jada.

  “He doesn’t think I have enough to fill my time,” I explained. “So he ropes me into crap like this stupid campaign with Heartstring. He thought even if I didn’t find love or whatever, it’d at least give me something to do.”

  “Yeah…so…how’s it going?” they asked with eager, expectant smiles.

  I paused for a moment before replying, “It certainly gives me lots of someones to do.”

  They erupted in laughter and applause, swooning with envy. They would have loved to be put on a pedestal as rich single ladies—plastered all over the internet as Heartstring’s poster child for what people might find on the app. Me telling them what they wanted to hear only fueled their admiration for it all.

  But the truth was, I hadn’t slept with a single person I met through Heartstring. For one, being such a prominent and featured user—I was terrified that I would be targeted by serial killers and date rapists. Even with Jack’s strict rules and protection to prevent such a thing, I had yet to meet anyone who could hold my interest for longer than dinner and a drink or two.

  “So will you go see Mr. Hottie over there after dinner? Or are you holding out for one of your Heartstring dates?” Veronica asked.

  I put on my classic indifferent and breezy expression. “Who knows what could happen. The night is young.”

  “Cheers to that!” Miranda shrieked, lifting her glass in the air.

  They cackled like hyenas as we toasted. Conversation quickly devolved into shallow talk about all the hot guys in the hotel bar that night, or stories from some of their recent one night stands. I used to be just as boy crazy as the rest of them. Until I had so many boys that they all seemed mind-numbingly boring.

  As they talked, I found myself drifting off into the bac
kground. I silently sipped cocktails and tried to force a smile when they expected it. Deep down, I was bored. And even worse, I was lonely. It was one thing to be lonely when you were actually alone. But it was another thing entirely to be lonely while surrounded by people.

  After a while, our model friend Kate tracked us down and joined the table. Not being in on the conversation, she was quicker to pick up on my disenchantment.

  “Hey,” she nudged my shoulder. “You okay, doll?”

  “I’m too sober,” I decided. “Waiter! More drinks, please! The next round is on me!”

  The whole table cheered, and somehow more people seemed to keep joining our party. All the other guests stared at us with desire and resentment. They wanted to be one of us. I just wanted to go home.

  But home that night was an empty hotel room. Luxurious as it might have been, I needed to get my kicks where I could. So I drank more, hoping that I was just one cocktail away from having fun with the rest of them.

  After dinner and drinks at the hotel, we were off to another VIP area of some club that just opened. We drank Cristal and slipped the DJ hundred dollar bills to only play our requests and no one else’s. It led to a sweaty night of dancing that stretched into the early morning hours.

  As closing time was nearing, each of the ladies I came with appeared to have found themselves in the arms of some guy for the evening. I kept a close watch in case any of them ended up with a dud and needed to be saved. But all seemed to be going well for them that night. Good for them, I thought. As shallow and obnoxious as they could be at times, everyone deserved to have a little fun.

  I stayed on my perch in a dark corner, sipping my drink and watching the dwindling crowd. I was just about to call it a night when a guy walked up. He was even beefier than the one from dinner, and he was more my type with dark skin, hair, and eyes.

  “Hey, mystery woman,” he winked. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Mystery woman?” I winced. Of course a guy I was actually attracted to would mess it up with some cheesy line right off the bat.

  “I’ve been watching you all night. I can’t seem to figure you out. I thought maybe if we had a drink together, I might be able to tell why a woman who looks like you is sitting all alone in a place like this.”

  As he talked, he moved in closer. Our eyes locked and with all the alcohol buzzing through my body, it was more than just a little tempting to want to invite him back to my room—even if he did say all the wrong things. But just as we were inches away from kissing, I hopped down from my stool and grabbed my bag.

  “Maybe some other time,” I lied. “There’s really nothing so mysterious about me. My legs were tired, so I quit dancing. I’m alone because I wanted to be. And right now…I’m going home. Have a nice night, handsome.”

  He gawked as I walked away, giving me the feeling that he didn’t get rejected often. But I kept going all the way back to the hotel. Some cold water to drink and a hot bath to soak in was starting to sound more appealing than another disappointing man.

  Maybe my brother was right. Maybe Heartstring did give me something to do, and it might be good for me. And maybe love was just the cure I needed for the funk I had slipped into. But even with the stupid dating site parading me around as one of it’s most coveted bachelorettes, I didn’t have a clue how to find real love. I just kept waiting for it to find me.

  1

  Isabella

  Recovering from jet lag and the disappointment of yet another trip abroad was bad enough. Now I had to go meet with my brother’s annoying new wife, Jada, on top of that. Actually, it was wrong to say Jada was annoying. She was actually very sweet. I liked her from the first time we met, even if back then I saw her as more of a project, than a real friend. Maybe I just didn’t know how to spot those anymore.

  But it was easy to underestimate Jada. Jack had done the same when he started at Heartstring. That’s how he never saw his feelings for her coming, and why he ended up deciding he couldn’t live without her. She blindsided him. Just like she had done with me in roping me into this stupid campaign of hers to fix me up, promoting her dating app along the way.

  Not all of my advice from back then had been lost on Jada. She may have stopped trying to be quite as fashionable and pristine as me, but she kept the fringe and heels. She was looking especially cute that day when I showed up to her office for our meeting. Too bad she didn’t look happy.

  “How was your trip?” She forced a smile, giving away that something was eating at her.

  “Good enough,” I shrugged. “How was yours? You and Jack just got back from the Bahamas, didn’t you?”

  That brought a real smile to her face. “It was magical,” she said with a dreamy sigh. But the magic and her smile quickly faded. “The state of our campaign with you though…not so magical, I’m afraid.”

  “And just what is the problem?” I groaned, leaning back in my chair across from her desk.

  “Well, the whole point was to prove how effective Heartstring was in helping people find love,” she explained. “But you haven’t found it. You certainly piqued everyone’s interest. You’re beautiful, rich, mysterious. People love following you. But…they see someone like you not finding anything serious through Heartstring, and it makes them think if we can’t help you…there’s no way we can help someone who’s more…well…average.”

  “What am I supposed to do about that?” I defended. “I can’t force myself to have feelings for someone. Maybe I should just pretend I’ve fallen for someone. Didn’t your brother do something to that effect?”

  “No, Lucas pretended to be pretending to have feelings for Victoria,” she corrected me. “But he really did love her ever since we were teens. It’s a bit different.” She stood from her desk and started pacing the room. “I know you can’t force feelings, but I do have a solution. We’ll just have to capitalize on everyone’s interest in you until we give them the happy ending they’re looking for. And I want you to know, Izzy…This is about more than just Heartstring’s reputation. Jack and I both want you to be happy. We want you to experience that happy ending…not just for the sake of the public, but for you and your happiness.”

  I cringed at the phrase “Jack and I” rolling off of her tongue so easily. After growing up so close with Jack and usually having him all to myself, sometimes it was hard not to be jealous of his new wife. After all, we were without parents now. He was the only family I had left. But now…I was not the only family he had to lean on. He had Jada.

  “I want to make this campaign even bigger,” she continued. “We’ll rise up to the challenge and put our focus entirely on you. You’ll be the focal point of this whole campaign from now on. It will be your name and face all over our website and social media… until we find the right guy for you. And when that happens, people will go crazy for Heartstring. It will restore their faith in us. And like I said, the best part is you get true love out of the whole thing.”

  “I don’t know, Jada,” I sighed. “This whole thing was really just a favor to Jack. Now you want it to go on even longer and be even bigger?”

  “Just think about it, Izzy. Some people settle for whoever they can find when there may be tons of people out there in the world that they’d be more compatible with. Someone else better suited for them that they’d be happier with. You get the rare treat of being exposed to every potential suitor in the world. You get your pick from the cream of the crop, and you’d never have to wonder if there was someone better out there for you.”

  Her eyes were twinkling with excitement as she snatched up a binder from her desk and handed it to me—a catalog of this new spin on the old campaign. “I’m thinking of tagging the whole thing with something like…Finding love for the wealthy, single, socialite—Isabella Landson.”

  I flipped through the pages, plastered with my photos and her slogans and all the notes about my new revamped featured profile.

  “What do you think?” she asked eagerly.

  I slammed t
he binder shut and tossed it back down to her desk. “I think it sounds pathetic.”

  Her demeanor morphed rapidly into disappointment.

  “Wouldn’t you rather use one of those more ‘average’ people for something like this? Wouldn’t that make it more effective?” I proposed.

  “Just think of all the guys who will flock to the site, signing up for premium memberships and whatever other features they can to get noticed by you. Or us…to set them up with you. Our profits will skyrocket. I mean, look at you. What guy wouldn’t want a chance to go on a date with you? Besides…It’s too late to use someone else. The media and the public would have our heads. They’d think we really couldn’t find a good match for you and that we just gave up. And if we can’t do it for you…”

  “Then you can’t do it for anyone,” I huffed. “I know. You said that already.”

  “Jack was so excited about this,” she went on to say, her excitement renewing. “He started going on about double dates with vacations and holidays. I think for him, this is sort of like rebuilding your family. He talks about how hard it’s been on you both since your mother died, and you were already grieving the loss of your father.”

  “You don’t have to remind me,” I snipped. “And just what does Jack have against us rebuilding our family with me as a single woman?”

  “Maybe he just doesn’t want you to feel like a third wheel around us,” she shrugged.

  I chewed on my lip, hating feeling like I was being backed into a corner. But I did want to make Jack happy. He had done a lot for me, and even though he controlled my access to the inheritance…it was really just so he could make it last. He barely touched a penny of it and rarely told me no when I asked him for anything extra. Plus, he was all I had left in the world. I could do this for him, couldn’t I?