Ethan (Billionaire’s Game #3) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire's Game Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
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“Right. Like I said, I would’ve read your file this morning—”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he cut me off. “I like that you don’t know who I am right now. Can we live in that moment a little longer?” he asked, lifting his coffee mug. “Treat this like…”

“A friendly coffee meeting?”

“I was going to say first date, but sure,” he teased.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Still trying to get me to fall in love with you?”

“Always,” he said instantly, and we both laughed.

“Not that there was a chance before,” I said, leaning over the table a little closer to him. “But now that’s definitely not a possibility.”

“Not one to mix business with pleasure?”

“Never,” I said. “The client/coach relationship is intimate on its own without involving romantic feelings,” I explained. “I’m here to help you, Ethan. Help you heal and learn and grow into the version of yourself you want to be. I take that seriously, and would never let any feelings I may or may not have for you get in the way of that.” I sighed, leaning back. “If that’s an issue, the offer to assign you to someone else still stands.”

Ethan visibly swallowed, then shook his head. “I don’t have time to be reassigned to someone who isn’t the best.” He gave me a broken smile. “I need help.”

The admission looked hard to get past his lips, and warmth spread through my chest that he’d trusted me with it.

“That’s what I’m here for,” I said.

Silence stretched between us, the moment tense and crackling with all kinds of energy—charged, reserved, worried, excited. It all swirled together until this totally felt like a first date.

“Okay, so this is awkward,” I said, and Ethan laughed.

“Not at all,” he said sarcastically.

I took another drink of my coffee, then waved my hands. “Okay, let’s work on easy stuff.”

“Is anything easy with you?” he teased.

“Everything is easy if you adjust your mindset.”

“Should I be taking notes?” He grinned.

“Not today,” I said. “So, easy stuff. I’m Alexandra Kinder. I’ve been a life coach specializing in anger management for four years. I have a background in behavioral psychology and have helped over forty clients regain control of their lives. I love what I do, but I also volunteer as much of my free time as I can to charities I support, including the ASPCA. And during the season you can find me either at a Hurricanes home game or in front of my TV watching them on the road.” I took a breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, now you go.”

He shifted in his seat, undoing the button of his jacket like it was a nervous tick. “I’m—”

“Omigod, you’re Ethan Berkley!” A young boy jerked his hand out of his father's and raced over to our table. “Dad! Dad! He owns the Hurricanes!”

“What?” I blinked a few times, feeling like I might fall off my chair.

Ethan gave me an apologetic look, then turned to smile down at the boy, then at the father who’d hurried over. “That’s me,” he said, and shook the little boy's hand, then the father’s.

“We’re looking great this season!” the boy said. “Maddox Porter is going to pitch a no-hitter, I know it!”

“I love to hear that,” Ethan said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed the boy a small card, but I couldn’t make out the writing. “Next time you’re at a game, hand that to anyone at a concession stand and you can get anything you want.”

“Thank you!” the boy said, practically jumping up and down as his father gave his thanks as well before steering them away.

Ethan sat back down, silent as I stared at him.

“Say something?” he finally asked.

I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea the man I’d kissed last night had been the owner of my favorite baseball team, let alone my newest client. What TV show was I living in because whoever was scripting it had a fucking cruel sense of humor?

“Well, it’s a good thing we already established how much I can’t fall in love with you,” I said. “Because if we hadn’t, that little fact certainly would’ve done it.”

Ethan shook his head. “You don’t strike me as someone who falls for someone just because of what they do for a living. Besides, you said money doesn’t matter to you.”

“But baseball does,” I said, smiling at him.

He laughed, the sound rich and full of life in a way that made me wonder how he could ever have anger issues hiding beneath this approachable, irresistible surface.

“Falling for me is still on the table,” he teased.

“It’s really not,” I said. “So, Ethan, owner of my team, what else do you want to tell me about yourself? Feel free to be honest, blunt, whatever you need. I can handle it.”


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