My Secret Valentine Baby Read Online Ella Goode

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
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She is my fourth secretary in as many months, and everyone says business is suffering because I can’t keep them from quitting. Tyrant, toxic boss, and worst person ever are some of the titles that have been conferred upon me. Human Resources says that if I lose this secretary, the hiring agency will ban us forever.

“Do we or do we not have a proofreading service here?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“W-w-we do,” she stutters.

“And how do you contact them?”

“V-v-via email.”

“Do you have their email address?”

“Yes.” It’s said so quietly it’s almost a sigh rather than a word.

I scrub my hands over my face. I can’t take it anymore. If I have to talk to her for one more minute, I’m going to lose it. “Go.” I dismiss her, but she doesn’t move. It’s like her feet have taken root in the two-hundred-year-old Aubusson carpet. Irritated, I rise to my feet and plant my hands on my desk. “Do I need to—”

“I’m here!” shouts a cheery voice just as I’m about to unload on the secretary. The intruder’s voice awakens my secretary from her trance, and the girl bolts out of my office as if I laid a whip to her back.

“What was that all about?” My sister, Ember, flops down in one of my Pierre Jeanerret chairs in a cloud of silk and Maison Margiela perfume.

“My secretary sent a gift basket to the Chinese dignitary staying in the palace penthouse with a note that said ‘on the horse’ rather than ‘on the house.’”

Ember grimaces. “Oh no. Isn’t his wife the one that has been insulted before for having the horse-like face?”

“Yes. In fact, we went so far as to replace every piece of art and statuette in that suite that had the slightest resemblance to anything equine.” All that work and double checking down the drain with a misspelling.

“What will you do?”

“Comp their entire stay. What else can we do?” The Chinese spend a ton of money at my hotels.

“I blame this on the girl,” declares Ember.

“Don’t bring her up,” I warn. The girl is not one I want to talk about. I spend most of my energy trying to drive thoughts of her out of my brain, which is why I have a short temper these days.

“I can’t keep quiet anymore, Archer. You have to give up on her! Not being able to find her is driving you crazy, and in turn, you are driving the rest of us crazy. We’re either going to have to put you down or find you a new woman. Which is it going to be?”

I clench my jaw and remind myself this is my beloved sister and I can’t throw her out the window because she’s my only sister and because my parents would then disown me. “People are not interchangeable like your shoes, Ember.”

“My shoes are one of a kind.” She sticks her stiletto-clad foot in the air. “Custom Louboutins. One of a kind.” She taps the red sole on the edge of my desk. “Actual diamond-encrusted.”

“Great. Next time I’m low on money, I will come to your closet and pry the jewels off your shoes. Until then, go.”

“I’m serious, Arch.” She pulls her foot off my desk and gets to her feet. “You need to move on. It’s not healthy to obsess over a one-night stand. That’s the whole point of one-night stands. You get your jollies on with some stranger and then you move on.”

“No.” I cross my arms. This woman was the one. I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on her, or I wouldn’t have slept with her. I figured we’d have phenomenal sex, and when we woke up, I’d take her to the chapel downstairs and wife her up. Instead, I woke up to an empty bed. Downstairs, I asked about the weddings we’d hosted. She said she’d been to one, but none of the photographs the hotel photographer had taken had her in them. Without a photo, it was hard to interrogate guests, too. The first secretary who quit was tasked with calling every wedding guest to see if they remembered a young woman in her early twenties wearing a black bodycon dress that showed off her shoulders and back. My secretary said that the dress was so common that she’d seen it on at least one hundred women in the security footage. The woman had come in for a drink and not spent even a penny at the tables or the slot machines. Her hair obscured her face at the bar and then, well, I’d disabled the security cameras after she’d agreed to come to my room.

My big fuck-up.

“Fine, but what if you don’t find her?”

“It’s not an option.”

Before she can argue, my intercom buzzes, and a voice from HR speaks. “Your fourth secretary just quit but I knew she would, so her replacement is coming today. If she quits, I will, too.”



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