Picture Perfect Love (Heartstring Dating Agency Book 3)

by Lauren Wood

  Picture Perfect Love

  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. Joshua

  2. Abby

  3. Joshua

  4. Abby

  5. Joshua

  6. Abby

  7. Joshua

  8. Abby

  9. Joshua

  10. Abby

  11. Joshua

  12. Abby

  13. Joshua

  14. Abby

  15. Joshua

  16. Abby

  17. Joshua

  18. Abby

  19. Joshua

  20. Abby

  Epilogue

  Certified Heartthrob Sneak Peak

  Chapter 1

  Also by Lauren Wood

  About the Author

  Exclusive Offer

  Prologue

  Joshua

  A horrible throbbing pain started pumping through my brain, pounding against my skull, the moment I opened my eyes. At first I thought the noise I was hearing was a ringing in my ears, but then I realized it was my phone on the nightstand. I slapped and smacked blindly in its direction until the incessant shrill tune and buzzing finally stopped. I was sure I heard it thud on the carpet floor next to my bed, but I couldn’t be sure… nor did I care.

  But as I swung my legs over the side of what I thought was my bed, I quickly realized I never made it to my room at all. I had barely made it to the couch, it seemed.

  My first attempt at standing made me feel like I was going to puke, so I sank back down to the couch cushion, defeated. I cradled my aching head in my hands, realizing this was an extraordinarily bad hangover, even for my standards, numbed as they were.

  I don’t know how long I sat there before I was finally able to move without my guts and head spinning, threatening to spill out on the floor in one way or another. But when I finally could, my feet located my phone, which I had tossed aside earlier. I picked it up and lit up the screen for the time. 1:22PM. Shit.

  The fact that my siblings and all of our employees had showed up to the office over five hours ago, without me, was troubling, but also nothing new. Working for yourself, or your pushover big brother, required a level of drive and self-motivation that I didn’t seem to possess. I had never adhered to the eight to five schedule the rest of them did.

  No, sleeping until noon or later was an all-too-frequent occurrence. What was really alarming, though, was the number of missed calls and messages in my notifications. Because said flaky behavior was expected from me, no one was putting out a search party when I was late to work or neglected to show up at all. That’s just one of the perks of your family owning its own business.

  The slew of texts and calls meant something else had happened, but I didn’t have the stomach for whatever it might have been yet.

  Instead, I opted to stumble into the bathroom for a shower to wake me up. I grabbed several bottles of cold water on the way to chug while I washed up, but what I really needed was a whole gallon or more to set me right again. I made a note to myself to buy another bottle of pedialyte, which worked wonders for hangovers.

  With a towel wrapped around my waist, I emerged into the living room again while scrubbing my teeth down with the toothbrush. I flipped on the TV as a mindless habit and meandered into the kitchen to decide if I should order food or whip something up myself. But while I was surveying my fridge, a startling stream of words blared out from the announcer on the television.

  “Heartstring executive, Joshua Meadows, is living up to his reputation as playboy party boy. He was in full force at the Veranda club opening yesterday evening, as you can see in this video and the photograph that is trending on social media networks this morning.”

  I froze, my mouth still foaming with toothpaste, and cautiously approached the TV again. There on the screen was a clip of me standing on a bar, incredibly wasted and grinding between two scantily-clad blondes that I could no longer remember having ever seen in my life. The video cut off just as we all started to strip while the crowd cheered us on.

  Spitting my toothpaste into the sink, and tossing my brush in after it, I rushed back to my phone and examined the notifications again. Now I understood all too well why it was lighting up with calls and texts.

  The photo mentioned on TV was similar to the video, but in much better focus. It left no room for me or anyone to question my level of drunkenness or just how reckless of a mood I was in. My eyes had a hazy but mischievous and reckless glare to them, leading everyone to believe I’d do just about anything for the sake of fun.

  As I stared down the photo on the screen, things only got worse when another call came through. My big brother Lucas’s name scrolled in front of my eyes over and over again, only to stop and immediately start all over again.

  I wrinkled my face and reluctantly answered. He wasted no time in laying into me full force.

  “What were you thinking!?” he barked. “It’s not bad enough that we’ve had to overcome my and Camille’s media scandals, now you’re just begging them to come after you next! We’re execs for a dating app for christ’s sake, Joshua… not Girls Gone Wild!”

  “I know, I know,” I groaned. “Listen, I’m throwing on some clothes now and then I’ll be on my way.”

  “Oh, how kind of you. It’s only,” he paused to confirm the time. “After two o’clock in the afternoon. Thank you for taking time out of your busy morning to come in and deal with this crisis in a prompt manner.”

  The sarcasm dripping from his tone would have been offensive if I wasn’t so used to it.

  “Don’t bother coming in,” he decided. “It’s too late. The damage is done.”

  “Look, Lucas,” I sighed. “When Pops was still around and we were gearing up to go into his line of work, we were nowhere near this kind of media spotlight. It takes some getting used to, alright? I’m not accustomed to having photographers following me around, waiting for me to slip up.”

  “We launched six years ago, Joshua. How much time do you expect to have? And anyway, a slip-up implies a mistake,” he argued, unmoved. “Those shots you were guzzling seemed pretty intentional.”

  “What do you expect, Lucas? Maybe if you gave me some real responsibility in the company… something to challenge me and keep me occupied… I’d have a reason not to go out and drink myself silly all the time.”

  “That’s not how it works,” he replied incredulously. “Can you imagine any other employee coming to me and saying Oh, I know I’ve missed enough days and been late enough to deserve being fired. On top of that, I’m well on my way to scandalizing the whole company. But if you’d just give me a promotion! I’d meet the bare minimum requirements of my job then!”

  All I could do was sigh and listen. Nothing was going to talk him down when he got like this, and I also really couldn’t say that I didn’t deserve it.

  “Just be ready for the Heartstring Gala next week,” he snapped. “Show up, sober. Act professional. Try to prove yourself useful for once. Until then, just stay home and out of the way.”

  “No, I’ll come into the office on…”

  “Stay. Home. And out of the way!” He repeated more sternly.

  Before I could argue again, he had already hung up the phone. Maybe a couple of
years ago, I would have delighted in a free pass from work, my only upcoming obligation being to show up to a black tie cocktail party with tons of hot chicks, free booze, and a band.

  But the truth was, I had been getting restless for a while, which only seemed to make me act out more. Something Lucas would never understand, especially not after being married with a kid for a few years now.

  I couldn’t blame Lucas for being so determined and hard on us. We had all grown up rich as hell in the top social tiers of the city. Our dad was a businessman and we assumed whatever work he did would just be passed down to us. But when he died suddenly, we realized he hadn’t been as successful as he claimed to be when he was alive.

  Far from it. We were in debt. All of our assets were seized. Our trust funds—frozen, then wiped clean. We had no education, no work experience. And we were suddenly broke, with no way to continue living the only kind of life we had ever been accustomed to.

  Lucas was our savior, in a way. He threw himself into researching and decided a dating app was the best investment of our time and what little money we had left. And he was right. It all paid off. He had rebuilt our empire with our sisters at his side, and me… Well, I was left somewhere behind in the dust, like a useless joke.

  But I was determined not to let it stay that way forever. I would find some way to prove him, and the rest of them, wrong. Until then, however, there was no reason not to keep having a little bit of fun.

  My phone lit up with messages from one of my blonde dancing partners from the night before. She was reaching out to commiserate over our sudden shared infamy.

  Lucas said I couldn’t go out, but maybe I didn’t have to. I quickly fired off a text to invite her over. I could finish the job I had surely intended to last night.

  1

  Joshua

  As Lucas and I got out of the limo in front of the ballroom we booked for the Heartstring Gala, I was bracing myself for the moment I knew would come just before we went inside.

  We started down the red carpet, with our sisters Jada and Camille trailing behind, each of us stopping to pose for the cameras. Just as I predicted, after we reached the top of their stairs and made our final pose as a group, he stopped me in front of the big ornate double doors.

  “All you have to do is stay relatively sober and charm the guests. That’s it. Don’t try and make a show of anything. Just remember… you’re on damage control. Don’t fuck this up,” he hissed.

  I forced a smile and followed him inside. Big crystal chandeliers lined the middle of the enormous vaulted ceiling, sparkling across the marble floors where the guests mingled and the wait staff scurried back and forth. Everyone stopped, turned, and applauded our entrance. Lucas stepped forward to bask in it all like he was the man of the hour. Nevermind that this was a family business, and that this whole party was supposed to celebrate the success of all of us.

  “He still pissed at you?” Our youngest sister, Jada, appeared at my side.

  “Oh yeah,” I sighed.

  She snagged a glass of champagne from one of the passing trays. “Hang in there, brother. If you behave, he’ll eventually get over it.”

  After she slinked off into the crowd, Camille took her place next to me. I didn’t expect much sympathy from her. She was just as uptight as Lucas was.

  “Lucas gave you a rundown of what we expect from you this evening?” she asked.

  “To be present, but also mostly invisible,” I quipped.

  Looking unamused, she shot me a death glare and then slipped out onto the ballroom floor with everyone else. I was quick to arm myself with my own alcoholic beverage and hang back on the sidelines to scan the room. It was a shame I had to be on such good behavior, because there were plenty of hot chicks at the party with plunging backs and necklines on their dresses. There was enough hint of skin floating around the room to give me a hard-on, but as long as I kept my drinking in moderation… I would manage to contain myself.

  Or so I thought, until I saw her. Except the young brunette in question wasn’t a guest at all. She wore the same black and white attire as the rest of the wait staff, yet she stood out like a diamond in the rough. It didn’t take long for her to catch my eye. Her short, bouncy ponytail swayed behind her as she rushed around the room, tending to her job. She had flawless fair skin, big gorgeous blue eyes, and a smile that could slay any man. And it seemed to be carrying its weight, as I watched countless guests of the old-man variety slip bills into her pockets as tips.

  A while later, the party was in full swing. Everyone began clinking forks on their glasses as Lucas took the stage. Camille joined his side, but Jada and I opted to stay in our seats at the front row table reserved for us.

  “Good evening, everyone, and thank you for coming,” he started, flashing his most charming smile. I loved my brother, but sometimes he laid it on so thick it was nauseating.

  I needed another glass of champagne to stomach it. No, actually what I needed was something stronger. Like a whiskey neat. I was contemplating how scandalous it would be for me to sneak off to the bar in the middle of his speech. I turned in my seat to judge the distance from our table to the bar, but the timing of me inserting my foot out from under the table was unfortunate.

  Just as I turned, the brunette waitress was walking past with her arms full of trays of food. My foot managed to obstruct her path in just the right way to send her flying across the floor. Shrimp and sushi and every other manner of hors d’oeuvres plopped down all around her.

  Lucas froze along with the rest of the room, except for me. I leapt up and raced over to help her. With her hands in mine, she climbed back onto her feet and stared deeply into my eyes.

  “Thank you,” she smiled, showing off her endearing dimples.

  I was taken back for a moment by the current that seemed to surge between us, but before I could process it she was already dashing off to clean up the mess. The other waitresses jumped into help, and within no time it was like the whole thing never happened. Aside from the teasing snickers of some of the guests every time the brunette walked by. Poor thing. And it was all my fault.

  Lucas recovered and finished his speech. Everyone clapped and the evening went on. But I was fully distracted by the brunette, and was painfully aware of her every move. It was like there was some kind of siren on top of her head that alerted me to her presence everywhere she went.

  After downing that whiskey neat, as soon as I was able to obtain it, I decided I had to know her name at the very least. She deserved an apology for me tripping her and embarrassing her in front of everyone.

  I noticed her in the far corner of the room, scanning the crowd for anywhere she might be needed. I made a point to stroll over and corner her before she could be summoned again.

  “Sorry about earlier,” I said with a smile.

  She laughed and shrugged, “Things happen. Don’t be sorry. That is, unless you did it on purpose.”

  “Well if I had, I wouldn’t admit it.”

  “Then I’ll just cling to the hope that it was all a happy accident,” she grinned. “That kind of thing happens all the time, anyway. There’s not a waitress in this room that hasn’t fallen and made a fool out of herself at least once. It’s bound to happen with as much as we rush around. There’s only so much running around you can do before the odds of a fall are against you. Only the rookies let it get to them.”

  “I take it you’re not, then. A rookie?”

  “Goodness, no. I’ve been waitressing for five years, going on six. It’s just to put me through school, though.” Her eyes flickered across my face. “I’d ask what you do, but I already know.”

  “Oh do you?” I raised a brow.

  “This is your party,” she nodded. “I recognized you. Joshua Meadows.”

  “That’s almost never a good thing. When someone recognizes me.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth… I love your app,” she offered. “I met the guy I’m seeing right now on Heartstring, actually.”

&
nbsp; “Oh? I wish I could say I was happy to hear that.” I let that line sink in as I took another long slow sip of my drink.

  She averted her eyes and blushed a little, but left it alone. Meanwhile I felt a desperate urge to know more about her, and to feel more of this intoxicating energy between us.

  “Hey, do you wanna get out of here?” I blurted.

  Her brow wrinkled with a confused laugh. “Out of here? What… you mean like out of this room? This party? This building?”

  “Yeah, let’s go somewhere else. Get some drinks around the corner.”

  She shook her head, laughing it off. “You’re not serious.”

  “I am.”

  “But I just told you I’m seeing someone. And anyway, I’m working.”

  “How much will you make tonight?” I asked. “Tips included?”

  “Ugh! Rude much?” she scoffed.

  “No, no. I only ask because whatever it is… you name your number… and I’ll double it.”

  She wasn’t laughing anymore. “I know you probably think waitresses make chump change, but I take home a pretty impressive amount with tips and all.”

  “Do your worst. Like I said, name your price.”

  “I’m not some escort you can buy for the night,” she rolled her eyes.

  “I never thought you were,” I shook my head. “But you are the most beautiful, captivating woman in the room. In fact, you’re the most intriguing woman I’ve encountered in a while. A long while. And I’m just willing to do whatever it takes to get to know you better.”