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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“He got to you, though,” Ella said. “I can tell.”

I shrugged. “He was a Hurricanes fan.”

Nora laughed. “So is all of Charleston, there’s more.”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “There was something about him. Maybe it was the fact that he showed up and saved me from a waste of one of my free nights. You know I don’t have many of those.”

And for good reason. The busier I stayed, the more I could help others. Plus, if I didn’t stand still for too long, the memories didn’t come back to haunt me as often. Even acknowledging the thought now had my throat closing a fraction, panic trickling through me as if my ex would stomp through the door and remind me of my proper place.

“Time’s up,” Ella said, and we all took a collective deep breath. We absolutely loved our jobs, but there was something to be said about micro-meditation right before the day started. “You’re going to call him tonight, aren’t you?”

I bit back my smile.

“Oh, she totally is,” Nora said before I could answer. “Look at her. She has stars in her eyes.”

“I do not!” I said, opening my door for the two of them. “You’re both going to be late.”

“We’re right on time,” Ella chided as they headed into the hallway outside my apartment. “I want all the deets later.”

“Same,” Nora said.

“We’ll see,” I said. “I have to meet my new client at the coffee shop down the road in thirty minutes. My company flagged it as a high-profile case, hence the in-person meeting as opposed to online. I may be too exhausted to even remember last night.”

“Oh, high-profile this time? That’s intense,” Ella said, wrapping me in a hug. “Deep breaths. You’re the best, that’s why they assign you the tough ones.”

I squeezed her back, then Nora. “You two are the actual heroes,” I said. “Have fun with a room full of eight-year-olds and a school full of kiddos.”

They both saluted me, and I closed the door behind them, slowly finishing my morning ritual of getting ready. I was out the door with ten minutes to spare, showing up at my favorite coffee shop so I could peruse the profile my company had sent over for my new client. I hadn’t had a second to read it last night, knowing my brain was nowhere near focused enough to give it the proper attention it deserved. Armed with a clear head and a coffee being made by the barista now, I headed to a two-top table and swiped open my phone to read.

“Alexandra?”

Every nerve in my body stood at attention at the sound of that voice—smooth, deep, and a dash of surprise.

“Ethan?” My lips parted as I found him striding toward my table, looking as expensive as his jokes in a navy-blue suit that looked specifically made for his body. God, who looked like that at seven-thirty in the morning?

“What are you doing here?” I asked, suddenly wondering if he’d somehow followed me here. I immediately dismissed the idea, not sensing any of my well-tuned red-flag gauges going off.

“I have a meeting,” he said, brow furrowed. “I’m early—” His phone rang, and he gave me an apologetic look that I waved off as he answered it. “Declan,” he said. “Yes, I’m here. What was the name again? Mr. Kinder?”

Shock jolted my system at the sound of my last name.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

“Ms. Kinder?” he asked into the phone.

Jesus in a rainbow hat. I hurried to open my phone, frantically opening the file my company had sent me last night. A short-notice case that was given top priority for a Mr….

No fucking way.

Mr. Ethan Berkley.

“Thanks, Declan,” Ethan said, hanging up and pocketing his phone. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Are you all right?” he asked, clearly noticing the absolute shock playing out on my face.

I laughed.

There was nothing funny about this, but I laughed because I was nervous as hell.

Shit, laughing at the situation was wicked unprofessional, but so was fantasizing about my new client fucking me against a wall.

Shit, shit, shit.

I cleared my throat, straightening my spine.

“I’m fine,” I said, giving myself a few seconds to breathe and adjust to the situation. The one where the man who I’d kissed last night, who I’d gone home and fantasized about last night, the one I’d had every intention of calling tonight, was my new high-profile client.

Someone who needed my help because of his inability to control his anger.

God, I could sure fucking pick them.

I let go of any romantic notions, or at least I told myself I did, as I smiled up at him.

“Can I get you a coffee?” I asked. “I just need a few minutes to read through something and then I’ll be ready for the meeting.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed, his gray eyes churning as he tilted his head.


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