Page 20 of Dating His Brother

“That’s about all he’d be good for. Entertainment…in a pitying sort of way,” Jack teased. “He may be well known in certain circles, but not for anything good. He’s a fool and far too proud for someone who lives in squalor. He’s completely broke.”

“The Hayes family has money,” I argued.

“Exactly. That makes it even worse. He lives that way by choice. Can you imagine some of the homeless people on the street knowing that guy was walking around acting piss poor, shunning his family’s own fortune?”

“Or all the starving children in the world,” Jada added, looking painfully sad.

“You two never cared about homeless people or starving children before,” I noted. “I don’t know anything about Dawson’s finances. I don’t see what it matters. But I could find that kind of thing out as the show went on. Isn’t that the point? To engage viewers?”

“He’d never agree to it,” Jack insisted. “He thinks he’s too good for everything…even things that are actually too good for him.”

I had to admit, it was a stunningly accurate assessment of Dawson Hayes. I couldn’t help but laugh a little at just how spot on it was. But still, something didn’t sit right with me in hearing Jack say it. I felt oddly protective.

Meanwhile, Jack’s eyes kept stinging into me. “Why are you so concerned with the success of this thing all of a sudden anyway? And why so interested in Dawson?”

“I told you, I just think he’s amusing is all,” I rolled my eyes. “If I’m going to have to do this thing, I might as well be allowed to have a little fun along the way.”

Jack cleared his throat and leaned forward with a stern look. “To answer your question, no, I don’t think anyone would enjoy watching an arrogant, smarmy guy like Dawson parade around like he owns the place—all while being an idiot who walked away from millions for no good reason. He’s not going to date my little sister. That’s for damn sure.No onewould be rooting for him. Includingme.”

I sat back with a pout, feeling embarrassed for bringing it up at all. What was I thinking? Of course Jack didn’t like him. He was worse than just not being from the right kind of family or pedigree. He came from all the right places and apparently refused to ride on his family’s coattails, for whatever reason. I couldn’t relate. I certainly wasn’t in any hurry to give up my inheritance and all the perks and the lifestyle that came with it.

“Wait a minute,” Jack barked. “You’re not already seeing him, are you?”

“No!” I shrieked, defensively. “Of course not. I mean, I haveseenhim…as in we’ve run into each other around town and all. But that’s it.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” He gave a sharp tug to his suit jacket, obviously annoyed and slightly enraged. “I forbid you from messing around with that guy. I don’t trust him. There’s something seedy about him. Like a used car salesman.”

I smirked a little, remembering how I thought the same thing about him at first. And I still did, didn’t I? It’s not like he had done much to change my opinion since we first met, other than coming onwaytoo strong.

But the longer I sat there, the more I resented Jack for ordering me around the way he did. It was starting to feel like I had chains around my hands and feet…and even my neck, which didn’t help my relentlessly dry throat. I was starting to feel suffocating and claustrophobic. I wanted to break free and take off running, never looking back.

I tolerated the rest of the meeting, going over all the details with the two of them—which meant a lot of listening, since neither seemed to care about my input. The moment it was over, I took off as fast I could—racing off to nowhere in particular.

Whatever restlessness was plaguing me, Dawson Hayes only seemed to be making it worse. I felt determined to get to the bottom of my weird fascination with him.

11

Dawson

Isqueezed out an array of cool blues and warm yellows on my palette and stared at them for a long time before picking up a brush.That’s it, Dawson. Nice, calming colors. Sunny and cheerful. It’s a beautiful afternoon. The windows are open. The birds are chirping. What reason do you have for being bitter or angry?

My hand lurched for a tube of red paint instead and squeezed it out across the middle of the palette, covering everything else.My brother and Izzy.That’swhat I have to be bitter and angry about.

I couldn’t stop seeing the reel play in my mind over and over again—them leaving together and her glancing back over her shoulder at me as his hand smoothed along the small of her back. Just the thought of it made my skin crawl. Was she taunting me with that last little look? Rubbing my face in it? Torturing me?

Richard was used to getting his way, so surely he didn’t think much of snagging a date with the current most coveted bachelorette of the city. And why, oh why, did the woman who caught my attention just have to be that same woman?

I didn’t care anything about Heartstring or how much money Isabella had or that there were hoards of other men lined up, fighting for her affections. She was just a beautiful, intriguing woman I met in the park. I had no idea who she was. The universe was toying with me. I was certain of it.

Just as I angrily splattered red across the canvas, reflecting my frustrations, a knock came to the door. I froze and tried to be as quiet as possible, intending to ignore it so I could continue working without interruption.

“Hello!? Dawson!?” A woman’s familiar voice called out from behind the door.

No. It couldn’t be.I put down my brush and sneaked over to the door, peeking out through the hole to confirm that it was indeed Isabella pacing outside. She looked frazzled, upset, restless. When I extended the offer for her to visit my studio, there was a big part of me that never actually expected her to come. Especially after I saw her leave the gallery on my brother’s arm.

I unlatched the line of locks and swung open the door. I didn’t have time to offer a single word before she pushed right past me, forcing her way into my studio like she owned the place.

She immediately started pacing the room, taking everything around her in with wide eyes. “I guess I interrupted you. Shoot.”

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