Ella Goode – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Ella Goode – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:09 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Ella Goode – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Wicked Rider (Bad Boy High #2) Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/wicked-rider-bad-boy-high-2-read-online-ella-goode Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:09 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wicked-rider-bad-boy-high-2-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Virgin Authors: Ella Goode Series: Bad Boy High Series by Ella Goode
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)

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Josie

The high school news beat is usually about cheating, both on tests and on people. Recently, all that’s changed. Missing boys, thrown basketball games, a body. I might be in over my head with a murder investigation but this new guy with shady connections wants to help. My dad wouldn’t like him. He doesn’t fit in with my future plans but I can’t stop thinking about him. And honestly, with Bam at my back, I feel like I can do anything.

Bam

I’ve got no family and no future. Joining a gang was a natural move for someone like me. I take each day on its own, happy I’m still alive. Meeting Josie tilts my world. I’m starting to think tomorrow might be just as important as today so long as Josie’s in it. She ventures into places I don’t think are safe, but her light’s so bright I can’t hold her back. All I know is that if she lets me, I’ll watch her back forever

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

BAM

Icatch my breath as Niki, my partner in crime, rolls over the inert body with his shoe.

“That’s Cole.”

Niki tilts his shaved head in my direction. “You know this guy?”

“I recognize him. He was in Josie’s book.”

“Josie who?”

My buddy isn’t slow. He just doesn’t have room in his head for anyone who is not his girlfriend, Andy, or his family. He’s especially not going to remember another girl, which is fine by me. Other people perceiving Josie is irritating. Not that she should be hidden indoors all the time, but it would be nice if other people—guys in particular—would keep their peepers to themselves.

“From Andy’s school. The junior reporter girl.”

“Don’t remember her or her book. She’s a writer?”

“She’s put together a notebook of stuff about different guys going missing. This is one of them.” I squat down next to Niki and pull the collar of the dead boy’s flannel shirt away from his neck to expose the bruise marks. Someone strangled him with their hands. “He played basketball. Went missing about four weeks ago.”

“Body’s pretty fresh for someone who has been missing a month.” Niki straightens and glances around the dilapidated warehouse. It’s mostly empty. Whatever machinery this place once held was scavenged for parts years ago. The floorboards are cracked, and vines and weeds are sprouting in the crevices. If the gerbil, the marks we have to collect payment from, hadn’t told us about the kid, he might have decomposed before anyone found him.

Niki and I are the muscle in community collective, as our fearless leader Carter calls it. The alliteration is catchy but dumb. We’re a gang, and Niki and I enforce the rules. Today, we were out collecting dues owed for services rendered. That’s another Carter phrase. Essentially, we’re bill collectors. When we arrived at the door of our debt owing gerbil, he offered to show us a dead body in lieu of the five big ones he owed Carter.

“Let me take a few photos and then we can jet.” I pull out my phone before my partner responds. He walks over to the entrance and speaks in a low voice to the gerbil who led us here.

“You let him off?” I ask.

Niki shrugs. “Information is currency too.”

“I would’ve done the same.”

“I know.”

And that’s why we’re partners and have been for three years now since we joined the Riders. Technically, I suppose it’s only been two years since we were tatted and pinned. The tattoo is the public sign of our allegiance to the gang. Pinning is the private ceremony where you fight the existing crew, and if you are still standing at the end, they pound a pin into your bleeding and bruised chest. Initiation into the Riders gang isn’t easy, but since most of us spend our time chasing people and fighting them when we catch them, it makes sense to test our endurance and strength.

A few weeks ago, I thought Niki might leave the Riders. He’d fallen for a girl and thought, at the time, that the Riders would be too dangerous for her, but in the end, he came to the conclusion that hhaving someone to help watch his back—someone like me—made everyone safer.

It’s not like I was going to fall to my knees if I had to break in a new partner, but it’s nice that he’s still around.

“Need me to read to Julie tonight?” I offer. He doesn’t get a lot of alone time with his girl, so sometimes I pitch in and read to his baby sister. It’s not like I’ve got anything going on, what with being on my own for as long as I can remember.

“Not unless you want to get murdered. Andy’s been reading a dragon story to Julie. Temmy something. Can’t remember the name exactly, but anyway, if you interfere with that, Julie will stab you with a fork.”

“Appreciate you looking out for me.”

He bumps my fist and peels off in the direction of his new place where he lives with his mom, his sister, and now Andy.

My choices are to go hang out at the laundromat, the place the Riders call home base, which these days is emptier than a tomb after Easter, or my apartment, which is also very empty.

I’m a guy, so I shouldn’t need company, but my feet don’t want to move in the direction of my place. Ten minutes later, I find myself outside of a small café near the school. Because I know things about people, because it’s my business to know where they live, where they hang out, the sight of a curly-haired head bent over a book isn’t a surprise.

I’m here, I tell myself, to give Josie an update because she deserves it, not because I’ve been thinking about her for days, not because I see her when I close my eyes at night, not because my apartment feels like a tomb that isn’t going to have any Easter surprise.

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Rough Rider (Bad Boy High #1) Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/rough-rider-bad-boy-high-1-read-online-ella-goode Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:15:43 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/rough-rider-bad-boy-high-1-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Ella Goode Series: Bad Boy High Series by Ella Goode
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)

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Niki

I’ve been hustling for as long as I can remember. Making sure my family is safe is my top priority which is why I joined the Riders in the first place. They gave me aid at my lowest and I trust them. It’s a hard and dangerous life but it works for me. At least it did until I met Andy and now all my thoughts are filled with her. I want her. Forever.

Andy

I’ve been hustling longer than I can remember. My mom is in a downward spiral. The bills keep piling up. Between taking care of her and making sure I graduate high school with honors, I don’t have time for even friends let alone boyfriends. I can only rely on one person and that’s me. This rough rider isn’t going to change my mind even though he’s more attractive than sin and I can’t keep him out of my head. I want him. Forever

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

NIKI

Sometimes violence is the answer.

That’s a recurring thought I have whenever a little fist in the gut nets the results I want. Like in this case.

“Here. Take it.” The guy hands me a stack of Bens. Since I’m holding this guy’s head with one hand, I gesture with my chin for my partner in crime, Bam, to count the money.

He hitches up his leg, placing his boot on the rich boy’s back, and then leans his elbow against the propped-up knee. The boy’s breath whooshes out, and he starts to collapse, but I pull his head up.

“You’ll want to watch him count it. Make sure we’re not ripping you off.”

Bam licks his thumb, gives the boy a wink, and rifles through the bills.

“I-I trust you,” the boy stutters. “Keep the extra. It’s a tip.”

“Nah, we run a tight ship. Nothing more. Nothing less. You’ll need the money for your next order. We good?” I ask Bam.

“We’re good.” He taps the boy on the top of the head. “Pay in a timely fashion so we don’t have to have this conversation again.”

I drop the boy and shove my hands into my pockets, ignoring the pain when my raw knuckles scrape against the worn denim.

“Why anyone would start using, I’ll never know.” Bam shakes his head. He says this after every encounter, but to be fair, I think the same thing. Once a drug addict, always a drug addict. It’s great for business. You will always have repeat customers. The downside is that they don’t want to pay as their addiction grows. Once that happens, Bam and I get sent out. You don’t want a visit from us.

At some point, though, Clark stops selling because, as he says, you can’t get blood from a stone. There’s a limit to how much they can beg, borrow, or steal, and once you come up against that wall, it’s our policy to walk away. Some other dealer may pick that addict up and try to shake him down for more, but Clark thinks it’s more trouble than it’s worth.

He came to that decision based on Bam and my feedback. You can pound someone’s head into the concrete, but if they’ve lost it all, they just let you turn their heads into mush, and then what good are they? They’re dead, and instead of a little assault charge over your head, you’re under the microscope for murder.

Our group, I guess it’s a gang, has a few rules:

1. Don’t talk about group business to outsiders.

2. Don’t fuck over anyone else in the group.

3. Don’t do useless acts.

Useless acts include killing an addict for non-payment. A dead man can’t pay his debts.

“Who’s next?” Bam asks.

I check my paper list. We’re old school because tech is too easy to track, and paper, well, I’ve eaten a few pieces, and I’m still alive. “Andy Nunn.”

“That name sounds new.” Bam looks over my shoulder. “A senior from Central Academy. Owes two big ones.”

“Heavy user.” I pocket the list and raise my arm to make sure the bus driver sees us.

Bam groans. “Not the bus again.”

“It’s a twenty-buck ride to Central or a free one with the pass.” I wave my card in his face.

“The buses stink. And there’s always some deranged old man who wants to shove his dick in your face.”

“You must have a fuckable face, Bam. What can I say?”

“Dude. I’m not riding the bus.”

“Great. Pay for the taxi. I’ll see you there. Don’t start without me.” I hop on and swipe my Metro card.

Bam clambers on board behind me, muttering under his breath about how I’m tighter with money than a virgin’s cunt. Probably true, but it’s not like I want to be an enforcer for the rest of my life. Beating up people and taking their money isn’t real satisfying work. At least it’s not something I see myself doing in ten years. Maybe five. I can still see myself doing this in five. Actually, I could see myself still doing this in ten, and that’s what makes me take the bus because I have to change my future somehow.

Bam spends money like it’s tap water: free and always available. He spends it on crazy stuff, too, like shoes that cost a grand and a leather jacket that ran him five cool ones. It’s a fine jacket, don’t get me wrong, but nothing on this earth is worth five thousand. But knocking the shit out of people is fun for Bam, and he plans to do it for as long as he can. We had a run-in with the Pipefitters, a gang that runs the territory between Sixth Street to the south, Fifteenth to the north, and Templeton to the west. The east is a warzone between them and Smoke Crew. Both groups are always vying for power. One of our addicts ran away from us into that no-man’s-land, and we had to fish him out from under the nose of a couple of Pipefitter enforcers who were beating the daylights out of a stray Smoke Crew member who had the unfortunate luck of being caught by himself.

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Hot Hearts (The Heart Connection #4) Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/hot-hearts-the-heart-connection-4-read-online-ella-goode Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:26:40 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/hot-hearts-the-heart-connection-4-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Virgin Authors: Ella Goode Series: The Heart Connection Series by Ella Goode
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Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)

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Slater

There isn’t a better restaurant in town than The Plate and there isn’t a better chef than Brooks Neal but that doesn’t mean he’d make a good partner. My life is falling apart and so is my career as a food critic now that everyone knows I’ve slept with Chef Neal. I’m not sure how to right my faltering ship but I know it’s not with him! But he’s so hot and he’s kind and I can’t stay away.

Brooks

I can make any dish perfectly. I know the exact wine pairing for each course. There’s no one in the city that makes a superior meal. None of these skills are helping me to lure Slater back to my bed. Her life is unraveling but mine will be completely cooked if I can’t win her over. The only thing I can do is turn up the heat until her icy heart melts and I make her mine forever

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

SLATER

This is probably going to make a bad situation worse, but that still doesn’t stop me from ordering a dirty martini. I have never had one before, but in the movies the girls order them when they’ve had a shit day, and I’ve had a shit week. Maybe I should have made it extra dirty even though I don’t know what that means.

The bartender places the drink down in front of me before moving on to the next patron at the bar. It’s not that busy, which is surprising being it’s a hotel bar, but there is a decent crowd. I pull out my phone and take a picture of the cocktail.

It’s a habit, I suppose. Except I typically review food. There will often be a wine pairing, but I'm not very knowledgeable about wine. No, that is what my now ex specialized in. He’s a sommelier and claims to know everything about wine, but he also thinks he knows everything about freaking everything. It’s charming at first, but it wears on your nerves after a while.

Once upon a time I would listen to him ramble on or try not to get my feelings hurt when he'd correct what I said. I was so stupid. Naïve, really. I only have myself to blame. I should have known better when he slid into my DMs only to then slide right into my best friend’s vagina.

I pick up my martini and take a sip. It burns all the way down.

"That bad?" a man asks, taking the seat next to mine at the bar. When I turn my head, my heart drops. Not only because the man is beyond handsome, but I know who he is. I've been trying to get into his restaurant back home for a few months now. The Plate is the hottest reservation these days.

I'm a food critic, but I try my best to go to restaurants without them knowing that I'm coming, which can make it harder to get into places. How the hell did I end up at the same hotel and bar as Brooks Neal? Neither of us lives here.

I shamelessly know way too much about the man, but that still isn't a ton. Believe me, I’ve tried all my usual tactics to learn about the newest top chef, but they haven’t panned out. While Brooks is a big deal and everyone knows who he is in the foodie world, he is fairly absent on social media. The only time you can get some details on him is when he does a random article or TV appearance to promote a new restaurant.

Oh, and the occasional gossip you might hear, which I try and pay no mind to. The internet can take a tiny detail and make it bigger than it is. Basically, do anything to create a more compelling narrative and story, and people will eat it up, whether it’s all fiction or not.

Damn, it's going to suck when word gets out about my ex and me.

"It's strong," I admit, while taking in every inch of Brooks. He's bigger in person. People generally hate to hear that, but it's not a bad thing when it comes to him. A person should really have no right to be this handsome, and that's not a filter over him either. Every inch of Brooks is all him, from his sun-kissed brown hair to his dark green eyes and lickable physique. I wish he was on the menu for me to try. Wow, Slater, get it under control.

"How about I try it?" he offers as he signals for the bartender to come over. The bartender offers Brooks the wine menu, but he turns it down.

That makes him even hotter. He really is the opposite of my ex in every way. Felipe would have already given you a full rundown about all he knows when it comes to wine and would be in the middle of criticizing the menu to the bartender. I want to kick my own ass for putting up with him for so long.

That was always so embarrassing. My best friend Sara said it was hot how much he knew.

Maybe that should have been a red flag, but I was new-ish to the whole making friends thing when Sara came into my life.

“I’ll have what the lady is having. Thank you,” he says to the bartender. Hot and polite. I would have never guessed. Usually chefs of his caliber tend to be dismissive and rude once they get a taste of success.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I take another sip of my drink, trying not to make a face as I force it down. Next time I’m going to try to stick to one of those girly pink concoctions instead of this.

“Damn, that is rough,” Brooks agrees. “I should stick to cooking with my vodka.”

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Hard Hearts (The Heart Connection #3) Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/hard-hearts-the-heart-connection-3-read-online-ella-goode Wed, 09 Jul 2025 19:15:43 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/hard-hearts-the-heart-connection-3-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Authors: Ella Goode Series: The Heart Connection Series by Ella Goode
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Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)

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Frankie

I’ve got no time for men and not much use for them either. I’m busy with my friends, my career, and my family. Some may call it hard-hearted, but I prefer smart. I’m on the verge of closing a deal of a lifetime and no famous quarterback trying to make his rehab time go by faster is going to convince me to give up being single.

Kaden

Even though I throw a football for a living, I know a good thing when I see it. Frankie Lodato is the whole smart, funny, and a total smoke show. While I hate that I’m spending my off season recovering from rotator cuff surgery, the bright side is that I have all the time in the world to woo Frankie. She’s a hard nut to crack, but a small town boy doesn’t get to be a star football player without overcoming every tough challenge I’ve ever faced

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

FRANKIE

“You got a date too?” There is no missing the excitement in my mom’s question. I snap closed the compact I was using to make sure all my freckles were covered and put it back down onto my vanity.

“When do I ever have a date?” Quickly I swipe on my peachy lip gloss before going in search of heels.

“You went on one a bit ago with some football player.”

“I went and left.” My date with Kaden Gunner, Pro Bowl quarterback nursing a torn rotator cuff, had barely lasted five seconds before I was rushing out the door. It was a date I never should have gone on, but in a moment of weakness, I had agreed.

I had far too much fun with Kaden. Arguing with him had been stimulating. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was different than when I fought with others, which I often do in my line of work. It’s a required skill set as a lawyer. But when I bickered with Kaden, it felt intimate. It was almost as if we were engaged in some kind of foreplay. I had no idea that arguing with someone could be erotically charged.

“I googled him. He’s a good-looking man.” That’s an understatement. Kaden is beyond good-looking. The man was once on the cover of GQ. He could moonlight as a model. I don’t even want to start thinking about his body. The way he’s lean with muscle but thick in all the right places. Don’t even get me started on his thighs.

“It’s not happening.” I grab my black Tom Ford heels. They’re comfortable, and I have no clue how long tonight is going to go. I already spent the whole day in the office wearing heels.

“Then why are you getting all dolled up to go out?”

“It’s a work thing.” If I was only going to meet the girls, I’d throw on jeans and pull my hair up. I was happy that my last meeting of the day got out early so I had time to prepare for tonight and freshen up.

We’re meeting a potential new customer the company I’m working for is trying to acquire. Elite Motors is in the market for a steel production company, and we’re trying to land that contract. Things have been going back and forth between them and us. My boss is foaming at the mouth for this deal, and I’m happy that I was selected to be on the team to make it happen. It can be hard to get picked for some projects when you’re not in the boys’ club.

“The man I’m seeing has a son.” I glance over at my mom. Now she is all dolled up. It’s still hard to believe I came out of her. She’s tall and slender with hair so shiny you’d think she spent thousands on upkeep. She also has flawless skin. There isn’t a freckle in sight.

I’m the polar opposite; my father’s genes are running fully through me. I have wild red hair that takes far too much time to control. Freckles cover my fair skin, which I struggle to conceal.

I truly wish I could have gotten my mom's height. Instead I've had to train myself to wear killer heels so that I don’t get lost in the mix. It's either that or you fall to the back. I work with all men, and they would all tower over me if not for the four inches I can get out of a pair of heels.

“Mom, no.” I wag my finger at her. She’s always trying to set me up with someone.

I adore my mom, but she is a romantic at heart. I have seen her fall in love so many times only to get her heart broken. I have to give it to her, though. She always dusts herself off and puts herself out there again.

“Fine.” She lets out a little huff. I’d never tell my mom this because it would hurt her feelings, but she is a part of the reason I stay away from dating. I have no time for that kind of drama in my life. I imagine it’s exhausting to spend your nights worrying about what a man is up to or if he will return your texts or calls. That’s not a position I ever want to be in.

“You look gorgeous, though.” Mom has a wrap dress on, showing off her slim figure.

“Thanks.” She walks into the room, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I have an early shift I picked up for one of the girls at the hospital.”

“Have fun,” I tell her before she is out the door.

Quickly I switch my purse over to a smaller one before grabbing my phone off the charger. I notice I have a few missed texts. I order a ride before I check them.

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True Hearts (The Heart Connection #2) Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/true-hearts-the-heart-connection-2-read-online-ella-goode Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:29:19 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/true-hearts-the-heart-connection-2-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Authors: Ella Goode Series: The Heart Connection Series by Ella Goode
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >29

Luna

I was raised poor and the only thing I had going for me was my looks. My fiance had the same low opinion of me which is why he never bothered to give me anything not my ring, not the gifts, and not his heart. Graham Dessault is another rich man and I should stay away from him because I’ve learned the hard way that all that glitters isn’t gold.

Graham

Luna’s the one for me. I knew it the minute I picked her up and carried her out of the bakery. It didn’t matter to me that she was engaged, that she had a bad experience with other guys, that she was reluctant to start a new relationship. None of that mattered. Only us. I just have to convince her that in a world of fakes, our love is true.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

GRAHAM

“Can you step back?” I wave at the black-suited man with the stern face. He doesn’t look like he’s smiled a day in his life. He does, however, take one step back, which allows me to walk around my desk without stepping on his foot. Ever since I gave my nephew his birthday gift, I’ve had four of these unfriendly bodies near me at all times, including at my home. I really need to move. I cross the hall from my corner suite to the other corner suite and find my prey. Two of the black-suited men fall in step behind me. I can feel their presence like a wet wool mantle on my shoulders. Itchy and uncomfortable.

Uncle Norris startles when his door bangs against the wall. He drops his phone between his legs and stutters. “G-graham, do you have an appointment?”

“Yes, a meeting at”—I check my watch—”one fifteen.”

Norris swings his daily planner and scrolls down until he finds the current time slot. “You’re not on here.”

I pull out my pen and scrawl my name across his empty planner page. “Now I am.” I sit down.

“I know why you’re here, and let me tell you that I argued in your favor.”

“Liar. I read the minutes. The agenda item to employ bodyguards for Graham Dassault was proposed by you and passed unanimously.” I half-turn to look at the two men standing just outside the door. They have the good sense to pretend to be staring at a spot on the hallway wall instead of listening in on my conversation with my uncle.

The traitor hangs his head. “I had to. The girls were ganging up on me.” The girls being his three sisters, one of whom is my mother.

“I’m thirty, Uncle Norris. I do not need a babysitter.”

“Great, and we want you to live until you’re twice that.” He opens the cigar box and offers one to me.

I shake my head. “I’m the CEO.”

“Correct. You run this company, and we as the board make sure you’re alive to do so.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, pup, but we had to. That one CEO was shot on the street, and the writings from that thing”—he waves his hand in the air—“that Facebook thing say that they’ll be looking for other rich, irresponsible CEOs.”

“I’m not irresponsible, and that other man was targeted for other reasons, not because he bought his nephew a car. A car that will appreciate in value,” I add. In retrospect, buying a one-year-old a sports car was incredibly dumb, but in my defense, Nicky is my first nephew, and my sister told me he liked cars. How was I supposed to know she meant toy cars?

“What’s it going to take for these bodyguards to go away?”

“Probably grandkids for your mom?”

My jaw drops. “This is all because I turned down her matchmaking attempts last month?”

Uncle Norris tries to hide his head, knowing that this is all so much bullshit, but like he said earlier, the girls were ganging up on him.

Deciding not to heap more misery on him, I leave. There’s a café on the first floor of our building, but it’s suffocating even there. I stride down the sidewalk, dodging a couple of kids on electric scooters, allowing the aromas of the food trucks to fill my lungs. Running the conglomerate can be stifling even on the best of days, but the presence of four bodyguards in my space is making me crazed.

A bakery window filled with an assortment of desserts catches my eye. My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I skipped lunch. “I’m getting a snack. What can I do to make you guys stay outside?”

“Sorry, sir, no can do,” the head stone-faced guard says. He pulls open the door and waves for me to go inside.

I almost want to wrestle him for the door but decide that would look even more ridiculous. I’m going to have to plan something. I’m not sure what. Maybe I buy the personal protection firm that these autobots come from and then I fire everyone.

The café is busy, and I use the crowd to put some separation between the guard and me. In line ahead of me, I spot a familiar face. An idea coalesces. It’s not the greatest plan, but as an impromptu one, it could work.

I cut in front of two others and throw my arm around the woman. “Pretend you’re with me, Luna,” I say.

The gorgeous blonde’s eyes widen at her name. “Do I know you?”

“Maybe? Graham Dassault. We haven’t met formally, but we both were at the Orchard Charity Gala last October. You were with Michael Montclair.” My eyes fall to her hand, where a big rock glitters on her finger. The sparkles are odd, not fully reflective.

“It’s ostentatious, isn’t it?” She rubs the ring with her finger.

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Tangled Hearts (The Heart Connection #1) Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/tangled-hearts-the-heart-connection-1-read-online-ella-goode Mon, 21 Apr 2025 22:20:37 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/tangled-hearts-the-heart-connection-1-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Virgin Authors: Ella Goode Series: The Heart Connection Series by Ella Goode
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Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)

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Natalie

Being a lawyer seemed like a way to do good in the world but dealing with sketchy clients and questionable deals is draining my idealism. I want out, but I don’t know where to go. Dylan seems to have his head screwed on straight but I can’t fall into his arms when I’m not sure about my own future. He's so perfect that it's getting me all tangled up inside.

Dylan

I’m giving up my prestigious law practice and taking up knitting. All my friends think I’m crazy but life’s too short to be not be doing exactly what you want which is why when I meet Natalie, I’m ready to tie her up—permanently. I plan to unravel her resistance and convince her that true love is worth taking a risk on.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

DYLAN

“You’re not going to ask for guaranteed money?” I push down my glasses to peer at the man across the table from me.

“Guaranteed would be twenty to twenty-five million less, maybe more. They don’t think I’m going to last the season. This”—Kaden Gunner taps his shoulder—“is too fragile for guaranteed money.”

I make a couple of notes and hand the contract back to him. “There don’t appear to be any hidden clauses, although this merchandising clause is a bit ambiguous. I’d make a couple of changes so it’s clear that you get your licensing fee off the top instead of net. You know how those big corps like to do funny business with net receipts. Also, there’s no reason your team should be taking any money for film, TV, or streaming rights, so I’d strike that. Otherwise, I think you’re good to go.”

“Thanks. It’s not that I don’t trust my agent, but it’s always good to have a second set of eyes look things over. You don’t want that Harvard education to get rusty.” Kaden slips the contract into the inner pocket of his coat.

“You light on business these days?” asks Brooks. Chef Brooks runs The Plate, a restaurant that was awarded three stars by Michelin in its first year of operation and hasn’t lost them since. The waiting list to get into The Plate is about a year long despite the two thousand dollar per plate price tag. My law office is on the fifth floor of the building which is owned by the fourth man at the table—real estate mogul Graham.

“Been taking fewer clients,” I admit.

“That’s good. My sister’s always telling me that I need a better work-life balance,” Graham says, his face buried in his phone.

“Is that because you missed your nephew’s birthday?”

“I didn’t miss it. I sent a present.” Graham finally lifts his head from out of his phone.

“You sent him a car.”

“He will eventually need one,” he replies defensively.

“Graham just wondered what it meant to be the internet’s main character,” Kaden drawls. “Once you’ve been the subject of a viral hate campaign for a week, that novelty wears off.” Last season, Kaden fumbled the ball on the one yard line, resulting in the Mavericks not making the playoffs. From the posts online, you would have thought he went into people’s houses and murdered their mothers. Graham gifting his five-year-old nephew a car got varying responses from “I need a sugar uncle” to “out of touch billionaire needs to be next on the lone gunman’s list.” His board of directors is making him get a bodyguard.

“Are we done talking shop? I want to get a few hands in before I have to get home.” Brooks’s phone beeps. He curses but stands up and starts shoving his arms into his coat. “The butcher did what? Oh hell no. I’ve got a VIP coming in tomorrow, and I need that wagyu. I’m on my way to the restaurant. In the meantime, try to call over to the Cow House.” He pockets his phone with a frustrated sigh. “I’ll fund the first round next month. Sorry, gents.”

“I should go, too.” Kaden rises. “I want to send these changes to my agent and get the deal locked down. Thanks for looking it over, Dylan.”

I give him a salute. Graham leans back in his chair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Poker with two people?” I arch an eyebrow.

“We could play blackjack.”

Or I could go home and get some work done on a project that I’ve been messing around with. Graham takes a drag on his cigar and exhales the smoke in one long stream. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others, but you and I have been friends for a long time.”

“Since college,” I acknowledge warily.

“Right, so from one friend to another, do you have something you need to share? This is a judgment-free zone.” He opens his arms. “Whatever you’re doing is okay with me.”

I roll my eyes. “Thank God, the human trafficking I’ve been handling has been weighing on my shoulders. I’ve got four kids locked up in my basement, but I need some place to stash them because the feds are on my ass. You got a place for them?”

“No need to be sarcastic, buddy.” Graham looks a mite offended. “I was just trying to help.”

“What bird is whispering in your ear?”

“Julie came by the other day,” he admits. “She was upset and said you two had broken up because you didn’t care about law anymore and just wanted to stay home doing your little”—he makes a motion with his hands that I can’t decipher—“thing.”

“My jacking off?”

“No! I don’t know what she meant, and I didn’t need her to explain anything further because Julie is, well, whatever, and you’re my friend, so I showed her the door and figured I’d come talk to you about it tonight. Want to tell me what this is?” He repeats the hand motion.

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Baby Contract Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/baread-online-contract-read-online-ella-goode Mon, 10 Mar 2025 19:25:22 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/baread-online-contract-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Authors: Ella Goode Advertisement

Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >31

When a baby is dropped on Carr McRae’s doorstep, his first instinct is to send the child back to its parents but when no one claims the little girl, he has no choice but to learn how to be a dad. A contract nanny is his solution but he didn’t bargain for Addison Parker, who is sweetness and sex, in one irresistible package. He knows better than to fall for the nanny but his heart isn’t listening to his head.

Addison Parker falls in love with each of her charges but she knows better than to get involved with the family. Everyone eventually moves on. No matter how charming and sweet Carr McRae is, Addison will not fall for him. At least, that’s what she keeps telling herself but her heart isn’t listening to her head.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

CARR

“Iknow Dex is your cousin, but he’s the worst. The absolute worst!” cries Megan. The blonde is the latest in a long string of blondes that Dex has made cry. Fortunately, most of them never make it into my inner sanctum. Unfortunately, this latest one has a ring on her left finger and was, until a few weeks ago, carrying his child. She’s since given birth, and the sleeping baby is resting in a carrier on the side of my desk, wrapped in a pink Gucci blanket. I wasn’t aware that Gucci made baby blankets.

I discreetly check the time. Megan has been crying for fifteen minutes. Does a person even have enough water in them to cry for that long?

“What am I to do? I’m not the motherly type. Do I look like a mother to you?” Megan flicks her fingers down her frame that’s currently wrapped in a tight black dress. She definitely does not look like she gave birth six weeks ago.

”I don’t think there’s any standard mother look.” I try to think of the last mother I’ve had contact with and can only conjure up mine, who is perpetually gowned in her Chanel tweed suits with her No. 5 perfume wafting around her like a scented cloud. Nothing like Megan.

“I am not a mother. I’m twenty-eigh—I’m twenty-two—“ She catches herself and quickly revises the number. “I’m meant to be at Fashion Week and premieres, not changing diapers and cleaning up baby vomit. If I’m awake at three in the morning, it’s because I’m coming back from Club Nine One after seeing a surprise private performance by Harry Styles, not because this child decides it only wants to sleep during the day and never at night. Do you understand?” Her rant ends on a high-pitched shriek. The baby’s eyes pop open. Her little hands turn into fists, and the cry that erupts from the tiny body is louder than a fire engine. This only makes Megan more upset, and the two girls sob in unison. Misery.

Megan jumps to her feet and grabs her tiny purse. “I can’t do this, Carr. I’m not cut out for this life. I’m sorry.”

“Wait—“ I rise from my chair and hold out my hand, but Megan is nearly running for my study door. “Dammit, Megan, you can’t leave your baby here. Megan, come back here. Fuck.”

I can’t leave the baby. I grab the carrier handle and stride after Megan, only to hear the front door slam shut.

Errol, my housekeeper, gazes helplessly at me. “What could I do? Physically restrain her?”

If he had, she probably would have sued him. He tightens his apron strings and comes over to peer into the baby carrier.

“The child is very loud.”

“Yes.”

We can barely hear each other over the volume of this tiny being’s screams.

“Is there a bottle?” He pokes around the sides of the carrier, but there’s nothing but a baby and a blanket. The little tyke screams louder, and her face grows so red, I’m alarmed. “Maybe it’s in her bag,” he suggests. “Did she bring a bag with her?”

I can’t remember. I hurry back to the study, and by the chair Megan was sitting in is a big Louis Vuitton bag. I rummage through it and find two empty bottles. I hold them up. “What now?”

“Is there formula?”

I find a small container with a baby’s face on it. “Can you make this?” I hand over the bottles and the formula.

Errol stiffens. “I can make a perfect risotto. Baby formula will not be a problem.”

As we enter the kitchen, my driver appears.

“Oh thank Christ.” I shove the carrier into Ben’s arms. He has two kids. Granted they are adults now, but he had to have handled an infant at some point.

“What’s this?” he shouts over the ongoing cries. That baby’s lungs are stronger than Secretariat’s.

“Dex got some woman pregnant, and she left the baby here. Errol is making formula. I’m gonna call Dex. You get this baby to stop crying.”

Ben ducks his head to look into the carrier. “I haven’t held a baby in twenty-something years.” Gingerly, he reaches inside and pulls the tiny body out.

“Be careful,” I caution.

He shoots me an exasperated look, so I shut up.

“Little tyke’s probably hungry. How’s the formula coming?” Ben asks Errol.

“I’m working as fast as I can, but water takes time to heat. Can’t you get the baby to stop crying? It’s making me jittery.”

“I agree.” My head’s pounding as if I went on a five-day bender.

“You think I enjoy hearing this tot cry?” Ben shoots back. He jiggles the baby up and down.

“Do you really think you should be doing that?” I ask. “Isn’t the baby’s brain weak? You could be turning it into mush.” Dex isn’t answering his phone. I text him.

Call me

It’s an emergency

“If you know so much about babies, you soothe this one.” Ben shoves the blanketed bundle into my arms.

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Love to Stay Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/love-to-stay-read-online-ella-goode Sun, 02 Feb 2025 19:15:45 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/love-to-stay-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Virgin Authors: Ella Goode Advertisement

Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >31

Josie Addams loved her childhood best friend too much to keep him from pursuing his dreams. When Mick Murphy shared he was going to Vegas to train to be a professional boxer, Josie sent him away. Every day since then, she’s regretted it but she can’t change course now when he’s on the cusp of going pro. She knows once he’s in the limelight, she’ll lose him forever.

Mick Murphy has loved Josie Addams for as long as he can remember. He wanted to take her with him to Las Vegas, but she was the only one who took care of her sick dad. Now Mick is learning to for family, for fortune, but most of all, for her.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

MICK

“Great bout, Mickster.” Harry “O.P.” Maroon nudges my sore shoulder with a bare fist.

I rub the spot. “Careful, O.P., or I’ll have to go to the hospital and not just the trainer.” Even a simple tap by O.P.—short for One Punch because he has so many one-punch knockouts—is hard on my body. I’d just gone five rounds of sparring with the former heavyweight champ. It’s been five years since he’s won a belt, but he’s still got fast hands and quick feet, and his hits haven’t lost an ounce of power. My ribs ache with every breath. It’s a good ache, though. O.P. is the only one who has been able to land a punch on me in weeks. I’ve been getting bored.

He laughs, his slight paunch jiggling. “You're holding your own, son. I'll admit that when they first told me you were coming, I wasn't thrilled because you didn't have any training, but what you don’t have in formal training you’re making up with natural skill. No one can teach that. Keep working hard.”

“When do you think he’ll be ready?” Pedro, my trainer, leans against the ropes.

I stick my tongue between my teeth because a lot rides on his answer.

Harry tilts his head to the side. “I could see him in the ring in three or four months, depending on how dedicated he is.”

Pedro taps his chin. “There’s a fight with an empty undercard in two months.”

“It’s a risk, but I think he can do it.”

I know I can.

“You have your assignment,” he directs to me.

“I’ve always hated homework.” I pretend to be irked, but inside I’m dancing. I shove to my feet and then groan from the pain. Harry laughs.

Some of the younger guys appear out of the locker room, freshly washed and dressed in jeans and tees in varying degrees of wrinkledness. Dee’s shirt looks like he ironed it back there but it’s more likely it hung in the steam room while he worked out. Simba’s vintage Metallica concert tee looks like he just pulled it from the toe of a wool sock. Maybe that’s authentic vintage look, though. I don’t know anything about fashion, unlike some people. I shove that thought down. Can’t have her filling up my head when I’m supposed to be concentrating on becoming a world class boxer. Not that she wants me to think of her. Last time we talked—I should say fought—she told me that if I didn’t leave the city for Vegas, she didn’t even want to be friends because she didn’t want me to blame her for holding me back.

“We’re going to contribute to the Vegas economy.” Simba fans a bunch of five-dollar bills in front of his face.

“It’s five dollars for strippers now? Used to be dollar bills were enough back in my day.”

“A dollar bill would get you kicked out and banned, Grandpa.” Simba shakes his head.

O.P. glances toward me. I shrug. “Don’t ask me.”

“Mick doesn’t go to strip clubs and he doesn’t drink and he doesn’t do drugs and he doesn’t run around with strippers. Or any women.” Pedro shakes his finger at me. “You’re a straitlaced virgin until you win the title.”

“Cripes, Pedro, what’s the point of living if we can’t have pussy and beer?” Dee looks like he wants to fight.

“The point is to win a championship belt. If you want to win, you stay away. If you want pussy and beer, then live with being a training dummy for the winners.”

Pedro’s blunt words piss Dee and Simba off. They give him the double finger and then look at me.

I want to win, so I stay seated.

“Fucking loser.”

“Pussy hater.”

“Fuck you, old man,” they shout as they leave.

“Am I the pussy hater?” O.P. asks.

“I’m the old man,” Pedro says.

“That leaves me to be the fucking loser,” I laugh.

“No offense kid, but I have a wife, so I don’t hate pussy. You have to be the pussy hater.” O.P is comically offended by this.

I give him a thumbs-up. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll be the pussy hater.”

“Good man.” O.P. thumps me painfully on the back. Pedro adds his own pounding before the two of them leave to do whatever it is that they do after beating me up in the ring.

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Say You’ll Stay Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/say-youll-stay-read-online-ella-goode Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:23:42 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/say-youll-stay-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Authors: Ella Goode Advertisement

Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >27

Vasey Hamlin has been loved and forgotten. West is part of her past and she’s determined to keep him there. It doesn’t matter how many sweet memories he rekindles. There’s only pain at the end of the rainbow. There’s no way he’ll get her to stay.

Weston Evers knows a lot about the art of a deal. He’s managed to parlay his meager army earnings into a financial empire. He can size up an opponent in one look and take him down in the next. What he can’t seem to do is convince his old love that he’s back for good but he’ll do anything to get her to say she’ll stay forever.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

VASEY

“Iknow the bird isn’t going to heaven. I don’t believe in that, but at least he’ll be at peace, right?” Jasmine, my twelve-year-old charge, pushes a piece of sod down into the dirt. I help the girl to her feet.

“Yes.” Even if I believed otherwise, I’d lie to make this girl happy. I smooth down her golden hair. “This is a good place for him.”

Jasmine found the bird on the terrace this morning. The neck had been snapped and the body left there for her to find. She and I always are the first ones to have breakfast. Her father, Thomas Ware, is the only one who is up before us, and he eats breakfast in his office downtown. Jasmine’s stepmother, Roberta Franklin-Ware, doesn’t roll out of bed before nine as only the “poors” need to see the sunrise. She’s not wrong, just a classist narcissist. Yes, poor people see the sunrise because they’re either getting up to work their grueling jobs or coming home from working their grueling jobs. Only the indolent rich can sleep in every day.

As for Jasmine’s stepbrother, Gideon, he stumbles home in the early morning hours from whatever drug or alcohol, mostly both, dominated rager he attended. At sixteen, he’s on the fast track to destruction, but his mother is too afraid of him to intercede. Jasmine’s dad is busy tending to his empire. Plus, it’s obvious to everyone, including Gideon and Roberta, that the Ware patriarch does not care about Gideon.

He does love Jasmine in an absent-minded, open-wallet sort of way, but this enrages Gideon and Roberta even more. It would almost be better if Jasmine’s father despised everyone equally.

“Let’s go inside, sweetie. I think it’s going to rain.”

Jasmine wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and lets me lead her back into the mansion. The summer sun is starting its descent, and by the time we reach the back of the house, the outdoor lights have turned on and the cicadas have begun singing.

Kai, one of the staff members, holds the door open. “There’s a situation near the front,” he warns quietly as I pass by.

I nod in acknowledgment. “Jasmine, go upstairs and wash up. I’ll have dinner brought up. We can watch some Minecraft builds together.”

She sends me a grateful, watery smile. We part ways with her going upstairs and me heading toward the situation. I find Roberta and Gideon facing off.

“Going out?” Roberta steps toward her son, who is at the door. Every line of her body screams fear from her tightly clasped hands to her hunched shoulders and bowed head.

The sixteen-year-old stares down his newly healed nose. The surgery he got earlier in the summer has made it perfectly straight. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“The Academy’s entrance examinations are coming up, and I thought we could go over a few things.”

“You study it if it’s so important.”

“I can’t take the test for you.”

Gideon makes a face. “Figure it out.”

“If you take this one test, then your future is secured. The Academy has a 100 percent placement rate.”

Her son pulls the door open. “I don’t give a rat’s ass.”

“Every Ware has gone to Harvard, Gideon. You must get in.”

The cold in his eyes could freeze a battalion. “Buy my way in like everyone else does.”

The door slams shut. Roberta’s head falls even farther. I back away quietly. I don’t think Roberta will come after Jasmine tonight, but I can’t be sure. I wish I could pack her up and spirit her to a safe house away from Roberta and Gideon, but her father would hunt me down and kill me then. I do like my life.

Jasmine is pretending to study when I arrive at her room. The TV’s off, and the dinner tray is barely touched. “Hiding on the stairs again?”

She shrugs lightly, not a denial but not a confession either.

“If Roberta caught you, you’d be locked in here for a month,” I chide. The plate is cold to the touch. I take it to the little kitchenette that separates her suite from mine and reheat it.

When I return with the warm food, Jasmine is watching a Minecraft simulation. She hardly ever plays it, but she enjoys watching the videos. I don’t understand the appeal, but there are worse ways to spend an evening.

“I know he’s going to hurt me someday. That’s why I watch him.” She takes the tray from me without looking away from the screen. The nonchalant tone spears me. Her world is one where she assumes she’ll be harmed. I hate that. “Do you think the bird felt anything?”

“No. It’s a quick, painless death. I looked it up.” I’ve researched so many gruesome animal deaths that if anyone saw my browser history, I’d probably be locked up. It would be okay if I could get Gideon in there with me.

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Make Her Stay Read Online Ella Goode http://www.ilovenovels.com/make-her-stay-read-online-ella-goode Wed, 30 Oct 2024 13:05:49 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/make-her-stay-read-online-ella-goode Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Authors: Ella Goode Advertisement

Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >30

Griff Harris took one look at the sexy burglar at his friends business and knew he had to have her. Winning her required more tactical manuevers and persuasion than he had been trained for. Setting up a security system or providing body guard services was a cake walk compared to wooing Lauren and handling her troubled brother. Griff doesn’t mind. His sole goal is to make her stay.

Lauren Murphy knows better than to climb into the beefy arms of the security specialist who caught her in a bad situation. She has too much on her plate from trying to keep a roof over her head to making sure her brother stays out of jail. There’s no time in her life for the sexy man with the blue eyes and body to die for. Her hormones and her heart are screaming for her to let go, but her head knows better. But no matter how hard she tries to get away, his attention is making her want to stay.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

LAUREN

Not gonna lie. If I were writing a book about my life, it’d be titled A Series of Dumbshit Choices. The evil villain would be yours truly because I’m always making bad decisions that end up with worse results.

The problem is that I’m too short-sighted. Not actually short-sighted in that I have to wear glasses, but that I don’t think far enough ahead. I should’ve told my mother that putting her life savings into a food truck was too risky. When my brother announced he wasn’t going to college, I should’ve forced him back, even though he outweighs me by about thirty pounds. That said, could I have predicted the events that led to this specific outcome, even if I had a crystal ball?

“Do we have a deal?” asks Mrs. Franklin-Ware. Her light blond hair is wrapped into a tight French knot, but I think it’s a bad plastic surgery job that has her skin stretched too tightly across her forehead.

“Do I have a choice?” If it was just her hair, maybe I could’ve convinced her to let me restyle it instead of the “deal” she’s offering, which requires me to pilfer test papers from a posh private school. When I’m not working the occasional shift for Amuse Bouche, a new eatery in Midtown, I cut and color in one of the poshest hair salons on Madison Avenue. I’ve made a lot of women happy with the right haircut. It’s honestly a real skill, and I’m proud of it. One day I’d like to own my own salon or hell, let’s be more realistic, my own chair in one of those co-ops. One day I’d also like to win the lottery. Neither of those things are going to happen. I need to lower my dreams to just having one job instead of two.

“Everyone has choices. For instance, your brother could have chosen not to steal my purse.”

“It was a brand new Louis Vuitton with the tags on it sitting on the pavement in front of our apartment.” Like some kind of worm for a poor unsuspecting fish.

“He chose to take it to the pawn shop instead of turning it in to the police.”

“He’s nineteen and has zero cash.” Yes, my brother was wrong for taking the purse, but I don’t entirely blame him. My family is in a bad spot right now, and the money would’ve paid our rent for the next couple of months.

He’s a good kid, and he was trying to help out as best as he can. Taking the purse was wrong, but his heart was in the right place.

“And now he has zero cash and is in jail. I wonder how much it will cost to get him out.” Mrs. Franklin-Ware holds up her fingers to stare at her perfect blush pink polish because to her, the prospect of my brother in prison is merely one of many vouchers in her purse, whereas to me, it’s our whole life.

My own nails are chipped, and I need to repaint them before my shift starts. The longer I sit here dickering with Mrs. Franklin-Ware, the more likely I’ll be late, which my manager, Misty, hates. Still, it’s worth it if I can get out of doing this woman’s dirty work.

“How about I cut and color your hair for a month for free. I’m a stylist at⁠—”

“Blue Salon,” she cuts in. “You started there five years after graduating from American Beauty School, and you’re still paying off your school loans, which is why you work a few nights a week at that hideous restaurant over on Forty-third Street.”

Two weeks ago, I’d never seen this woman before, and now she’s reciting my work history and bank account balance to me? This is messed up.

“Why don’t you just hire a tutor? I don’t know jack about breaking and entering. I’ve never picked a lock in my life, not even on my own place.”

She looks at me as if I was dropped on my head as a baby. “If it were that easy, would I be here?”

I guess her kid is an idiot, but I’m not giving up. “I’ll come and clean your house for a month.”

“I’ve already told you the terms of the deal. Obtain the results from this school”—she taps my phone, her fingernail poking just above the crack at the top of the screen—“and your juvenile delinquent goes free. I’m doing you a very kind favor as he already has a criminal record and should be jailed like all other pieces of trash.”

I jump up. Mick can be a dumb shit at times, but he’s family, and no one gets to badmouth him but Mom and me. “He lifted some beer at the mart and paid them back when my mom found out.”

The woman rises to her feet, dusting her hands across her navy pencil skirt. “A serial shoplifter. As I said, given his previous criminal charges, he’s likely to serve some time. Although,” she drawls and looks around, “prison can’t be that much of a step down from his current residence.” She sniffs. “This place should be condemned. It’s a blight on our city.”

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