Certified Heartthrob: An Enemies to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Heartstring Dating Agency Book 2)

by Lauren Wood

  It was easy to put it off my mind, since the mission I’d laid out for him was not premeditated. It was one of those magic things that just sort of slipped out when I was put on the spot. And it was pretty genius, the more I thought about it.

  Mark Silver was hot and potentially wealthy. And his only flaw so far appeared to be his bitterness towards relationships. Fix that and we fix the whole problem. Not just for the company, but for his happiness as a human being as well. But...why did I even care about that anyway?

  I didn’t. I definitely didn’t. I didn’t even know Mark. Not really. I mean, I could see that his muscular body was even more impressive in person. God, I loved a tall guy who towered over me like that. Enough to where if you were to kiss him, you’d have to stand on your tiptoes. And in bed...oh, how he could throw you around any way he wanted.

  I cleared my throat and tried to shake it all off, snatching up my purse to finally leave and call it a night. All of those things would be great for whatever lucky girl I paired him with. I, uh, may have needed to remind myself of that more than once on the way home.

  In order to find the perfect girl for Mark, I needed to know more about him. I spent several hours falling even deeper down the rabbit hole of his online persona. I still couldn’t figure out why he would create profiles that made him appear to be an unattractive loser, but as for his more accurate profile…

  He claimed to do a lot of charity work, but I wondered if he considered his vigilante mission against love to be his form of philanthropy. Which was laughable. He worked out regularly, liked to travel, and therefore enjoyed lots of ethnic foods. He claimed to be a good cook and loved pets and kids. One of his profile pics even featured him posing with a friend’s dog. Jeez, no wonder this guy had no problem finding matches and dates. And no wonder the girls were so disappointed when he showed up to give them a lecture about the hopelessness of modern love.

  After finding everything I could about Mark, I needed to browse our female profiles and find the best match. Rarely did we ever handle this process ourselves. Actually, I never did. Jada had occasionally done personalized matchmaking for disappointed customers, but I stayed as far away from it as I could. But now that I was giving it a go...it was actually kind of fun.

  I clicked through the options, ignoring anyone who wasn’t at least better looking than me. I had to admit I’d be pissed to see a woman who was less attractive than me snag a hottie like Mark, as obnoxious as he was.

  He seemed to be a pretty neat and organized guy, as far as I could tell. What I could see of his place in the background of his pics was spic and span. He ate healthily enough and worked out regularly. I decided a guy like Mark needed a doctor. Or a lawyer...or maybe a businesswoman like myself.

  After hours of scanning through thousands of potential matches, I picked three. Lane Fantano, who ran her own medical practice—Italian with dark hair like mine and darker skin. She wore too much lipstick, but hey...he had options. Then there was Lucille Carmen, who was Hispanic, ran a non-profit, and owned two dogs. She was outdoorsy and liked to hike. Finally, there was Sydney Borday...She worked in marketing and was a little too gorgeous for comfort.

  The moment they were all selected, I reached for my phone...which I had plugged Mark’s phone number into earlier after reviewing his file. I hated the way my heartbeat pounded as I waited for him to pick up.

  “Silver speaking,” he announced.

  I tried not to laugh at the way he answered. Instead, I cleared my throat and remained professional. “Mark Silver, this is Camille Meadows. We met earlier today.”

  “You mean you showed up unannounced at my home earlier today.”

  “Hm. Right...well, sorry to call so late. I actually wanted to extend an offer to you.”

  “If you’re going to offer a free month of premium membership, I’m not interested.” He sighed. “The tech team already tried that.”

  “No, actually, I took the liberty of scanning our database and handpicking three potential dates for you,” I explained. “While I am fully confident in the proven success rates of our algorithms, I do recognize that certain people may require something more personal. I was wondering if you would consider taking a look at the matches I’ve pulled for you and going on a date with one of them. I think you’ll find this process will produce much more satisfactory results.”

  I heard him blow out a laugh over the line. “No offense, Camille, but you talk about love like it’s a math equation. Forgive me if I’m not entirely confident in your ability to pull this off.”

  “And you talk about love like it’s a completely foreign concept—or a myth—even while millions of Americans find themselves happily married and in love,” I shot back. “I sent the matches over to you. Go ahead and take a look.”

  “You have my home address, my phone number...and my email address?”

  “All information you provided when you created your account.”

  “I must say...this is some very questionable, yet thorough customer service,” he quipped. “But alright. I’ll bite. Give me one sec.”

  I waited and heard shuffling in the background while he browsed the matches I’d sent over to him. I knew I had done well when I heard him whistle.

  “Okay. Camille, I’ve got to hand it to you. These are some impressive picks.” I could hear him smiling. “I can go on a date with any one of them?”

  “Or all three, if you want. Preferably not at the same time. All I ask is that you give them a fair chance.”

  “Thanks, Camille.”

  He hung up, but never gave me his word he would actually try and make one of these work. That left me feeling uneasy, but even more than that...I couldn’t stop thinking about him or these potential dates. It had my stomach all twisted up in knots...like the time in high school when I didn’t think I stood a chance with my crush, so I set him up with one of my girlfriends instead. At least I could live vicariously through her...

  But I didn’t want to live vicariously through Mark Silver’s dates, did I?

  4

  Mark

  Sydney Borday. All I knew about her was that she was gorgeous, based on her profile pics, and that Camille recommended her. Honestly, the only reason I’d accepted the date was to see what kind of woman this Camille Meadows thought I would be a good match with.

  I had to hand it to her. She really cared about her job. More than I thought any of the Meadows siblings would. Or maybe she was just bitter about the money they were losing from my scathing reviews. Either way, she intrigued me. And even more intriguing was the prospect of seeing what kind of woman she picked out for me.

  As I waited at the bar where Sydney and I had agreed to meet, I considered what Camille had asked me. To give it a fair chance. It had been awhile since I’d been on a real date. Three years to be exact. Back when my ex and I had first started seeing each other. Maybe it was time for me to retest my theory about relationships. If I gave it a fair chance and it still didn’t work out...it only further proved my point, right? And having that gratification in the face of Camille’s stubbornness was appealing.

  But the thing was...it didn’t always seem glaringly doomed to fail right away. That was the problem. It wasn’t until you were in the thick of things with someone that the problems started to surface, and by then it was too late. I wasn’t so sure that was a risk I wanted to take.

  I was distracted by the woman who slipped onto the barstool next to mine. It took me a minute to recognize her because she was even prettier in person than on her profile. But when she removed her trendy hat from her caramel waves, I realized it was Sydney.

  “Oh. Hello. I’m Mark.” I extended my hand.

  “Sydney Borday.” She smiled. “Nice to meet you.” Her plump lips spread to reveal an adorably slight gap between her front two teeth. Her voice had a sexy hoarseness to it that was already driving me wild. It might be worth it not to botch the date right off, just to hear her talk some more.

  “Thanks for meeting me. Ca
n I get you a drink?”

  “Sure.” She nodded. “I was surprised when one of the CEOs reached out to me personally. That’s never happened to me on Heartstring before.”

  “Apparently, I’m a real troublesome guy to match.” I grinned.

  “And why is that?”

  Her brown eyes stared at me expectantly. There it was. My shot to tell her my whole theory on how this was all just one big, futile game. Or...I could give it a fair chance, like Camille asked.

  “I’m a little cynical, I guess.” I shrugged.

  “I don’t think many people who are single at our age can say they’re not at least a little jaded.”

  I laughed. “I may...take it to an extreme.”

  “Does that mean you’re an axe murderer?” she teased.

  “An axe murderer of the concept of modern relationships, maybe,” I confessed.

  “Eh. Modern relationships.” She winced. “They’re not so different from how relationships have always been. We can just afford to be pickier now.”

  There was something intoxicating about her. Something that made me not want to debate it too much. She was a beautiful, smart, and witty woman...just trying to get to know me. It saddened me to think I had gotten so bad that I couldn’t ride it out for at least a little while longer.

  “Should we go to our table for dinner?” I suggested, and she nodded. “After you.”

  An hour later, we had moved on to dessert and cocktails. Sydney didn’t exactly work in marketing, like her profile said. She was a social media influencer, but hated that label. She was interesting and funny. Truthfully, I was having a great time. Camille had, as much as I hated to admit it, done a great job.

  “I’ve had a really great time tonight,” Sydney admitted after a while.

  “I have, too,” I agreed reluctantly.

  “Perhaps we could see each other again? Friday night?”

  My smile faded as I sipped my drink, buying myself time. There was no reason to say no. Except my certainty that within a few months or years, one of us would inevitably get burned. I knew I needed to walk away now while I still could, before emotions had a chance to get involved.

  “I have to be honest with you about something, Sydney.”

  “Oh, no,” she groaned. “You’re married?”

  “No! No way. Not married.” I shifted in my seat. “I just...well, I’m not really looking for a relationship.”

  Her face wrinkled. “You’re not? Then why are you dating?”

  “Because I don’t think anyone should be looking for a relationship. I guess you could say I’m sort of an anti-love prophet, and I use dating as my window to spread the gospel of giving up on romance.”

  She was looking less amused by the second. “So...you’re crazy?”

  “I think it’s the rest of you who are crazy,” I huffed.

  “Then how is it any of your business?” she argued. “If people want to be crazy and go on believing in love, why do you need to waste everyone’s time trying to prove it otherwise? Why not just go on with your own life—loveless and alone?”

  I laughed awkwardly. “I’m not loveless or alone. I have plenty to keep me busy and plenty of great friends and family whom I love...who love me in return.”

  “Go do that, then. And leave the rest of us alone,” she scoffed, grabbing her purse from the back of her chair.

  I watched as she stormed off towards the front of the restaurant, but this time I felt guiltier than I ever had before. I should have ripped the band-aid off fast in the beginning, rather than get her hopes up through the whole dinner.

  I couldn’t resist running after her, chasing her out onto the sidewalk. “Sydney! Wait. I’m sorry, I really am. I should have been more honest with you about why we’re both here tonight.”

  “You know what your problem is?” she scolded me, spinning around on her heels. “You’re hell-bent on ruining love for everyone else just because you’ve been burned. That’s easier for you than admitting that you got hurt. Or that maybe you’re the one who’s actually the problem.”

  My stomach churned. In the months after my ex left me, I had done nothing but blame myself as “the problem.” Until one day, I had the epiphany that she really was the problem. She could have just left me after all...rather than sneak around behind my back for over half of our relationship. I still wondered, if I hadn’t caught her, if the truth would have ever come out.

  “I can admit I got hurt,” I replied. “Just as easily as I can admit it’s mind-boggling to watch all of you running around and diving headfirst into anything you can remotely pass off as love, knowing you’re just going to keep getting hurt over and over again.”

  “Because it’s worth it! Did you ever think of that?” Her eyes burned into me and she crossed her arms.

  “What?”

  “We know the risk of getting hurt. But the way it feels before that...it’s worth it. And still worth it to risk it again. We’re the brave ones, Mark. And you’re just a bitter old coward.”

  She huffed off down the sidewalk before I could say another word, leaving me there, speechless. But her words echoed through my mind all the way home.

  It wasn’t the first time a woman had gone off on me, but something about Sydney doing so really struck a nerve. Maybe beneath my angry defensiveness, I would find an ounce of truth in what she said, but all I wanted to feel that evening was rage.

  The moment I got home, I jumped onto my computer and started firing off on a new document. I typed up my next review…

  Heartstring execs will go through extraordinary lengths to try and prove they care about their customers and their hopeless, useless quests for love. But the truth is their facades are no better than the rest of the singles out there...saying and doing whatever it takes to win you over, only to disappoint you when it comes down to it. We’ve all fallen for it. Take Lucas Meadows for example. He conned everyone into believing he was engaged to his true love. Right when his fiance was going to expose their lie, he pops up and conveniently claims his feelings were real the entire time. He did what he had to...to deceive all of us and keep us buying into his false promises of real romance. Lucas didn’t feel compelled to do any of this until you, the media and Heartstring’s followers, called him out on his own lack of a partner in true love. So, what about his siblings?

  I have it on good authority that some execs are claiming they do have a love life that is just kept private. Is such a thing even possible anymore? I challenge all of you...Find the proof of these alleged love lives or disprove them. I am betting that the moment we call out the rest of the Meadows on their own lacking love lives...a few more “arranged marriages” will start popping up. —Mark Silver

  I wish I could say I felt better after posting it, but I didn’t. I felt compelled to keep going until something soothed the nagging feeling in my chest. Posting it on the Heartstring app wasn’t enough. I pulled up the email addresses for all the major gossip columnists in the city and fired it off to them, too, with corresponding links that told the story of the convenient Lucas Meadows marriage.

  But the twisting feeling in my gut persisted all through the night. By the next morning, when I saw that many of the gossip sites had chosen to publish what I sent...and were now posing many hard questions of their own...the uneasiness I felt was topped off with guilt.

  Regardless of her true motivations, all Camille had tried to do was set me up with someone. And what had I done in return? Dragged her company and family’s names through the mud. I didn’t think not mentioning her directly would make that any better.

  Sitting in front of my computer, I raked my hands down my face and felt furious with myself. What was wrong with me? Had my mission against romance gone too far? And then I felt it...the ounce of truth beneath all that anger at Sydney’s words. Only it did nothing to make me feel better. I only felt worse.

  5

  Camille

  I had no choice but to return to Mark’s front door and wait for him. After s
iccing the gossip columns on us, he’d stopped answering my phone calls and messages. All I’d tried to do was help, and all it got me was one big, fat negative spotlight on me, my family, and my company.

  Just after ten AM, after he didn’t answer my knock or the doorbell, he finally emerged. But it was obvious he hadn’t expected to see me out there, still waiting.

  “You ever heard of stalking?” he huffed when he saw me. “You know it’s every bit as punishable an offense as defamation is.”

  “Great. Maybe we can be cellmates,” I fired back, blocking him from going down the steps. “Why’d you do it, Mark? You could have just called and told me what you didn’t like about the date.”

  “The date was fine,” he insisted, shoving past me and taking off down the sidewalk.

  I took off running after him. “Then what’s your problem!?”

  “Dating is the problem, Camille. I’ve told you!”

  “Then stop dating!” I shrieked, waving my arms around in the middle of the sidewalk like a madwoman. At least it was enough to get him to stop and look at me. “Get the hell off our app and just stop dating! Why ruin it for everyone else!?”

  “I’m only trying to save everyone a lot of heartache,” he said finally, spinning around to continue on his way.

  “Oh no, you don’t, buddy.” I chased after him. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

  He kept marching at full pace and my legs, short in comparison with his, struggled to keep up. But I ran after him anyways.

  “Where are you going!?”

  “Soup kitchen,” he stated plainly.

  I laughed, thinking he had to be kidding. But he was straight-faced and not slowing down one bit.

  “Is that why you’re so bitter? You’re too poor to afford food? Hell, you should have told me. It would have been easier for me to buy you groceries than send you off on another date that was doomed to fail.”