The Secret (Billionaire's Beach Book 6) Read online

  Table of Contents

  THE SECRET

  Also Available

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Excerpt – LIGHT MY FIRE

  Christie Ridgway’s Book List

  About the Author

  THE SECRET

  Billionaire’s Beach Book 6

  Christie Ridgway

  Also Available

  Take Me Tender (Billionaire’s Beach Book 1)

  Take Me Forever (Billionaire’s Beach Book 2)

  Take Me Home (Billionaire’s Beach Book 3)

  The Scandal (Billionaire’s Beach Book 4)

  The Seduction (Billionaire’s Beach Book 5)

  The Secret (Billionaire’s Beach Book 6)

  One Look (One & Only Book 1)

  One Kiss (One & Only Book 2)

  One Night (One & Only Book 3)

  One Love (One & Only Book 4)

  Light My Fire (Rock Royalty Book 1)

  Love Her Madly (Rock Royalty Book 2)

  Break on Through (Rock Royalty Book 3)

  Touch Me (Rock Royalty Book 4)

  Wishful Sinful (Rock Royalty Book 5)

  Wild Child (Rock Royalty Book 6)

  Who Do You Love (Rock Royalty Book 7)

  Love Me Two Times (Rock Royalty Book 8)

  Make Him Wild (Intoxicating Book 1)

  Make Him Want (Intoxicating Book 2)

  Make Him Stay (Intoxicating Book 3)

  THE SECRET

  (Billionaire’s Beach Book 6)

  Being butler to a widower and single father is a dream job in more ways than one for Charlotte “Charlie” Emerson. She helps keep businessman Ethan Archer’s household running without a hitch and enjoys every minute she has with his six-year-old son, Wells. But as time passes, the situation feels alarmingly intimate and when her heart starts beating faster each time Ethan steps through the door, Charlie must exert rigid control over her feelings.

  With her secret, falling in love would be all kinds of bad…

  Ethan Archer values the woman who keeps his life in order and cares so much for his motherless boy. He and Charlie act in harmony with each other and it’s not hard to picture them as a little family…in fact, it’s so easy, one reckless night he proposes a marriage of convenience.

  What will he do if Charlie says yes? And worse, what if she tells him no?

  Also available in the series:

  Take Me Tender (Billionaire’s Beach Book 1)

  Take Me Forever (Billionaire’s Beach Book 2)

  Take Me Home (Billionaire’s Beach Book 3)

  The Scandal (Billionaire’s Beach Book 4)

  The Seduction (Billionaire’s Beach Book 5)

  THE SECRET

  © Copyright 2017 Christie Ridgway

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED (v3)

  ISBN: 9781939286369

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Visit Christie’s website

  Meet up with her on Facebook

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  Chapter 1

  Charlotte Emerson held her breath as the metal door popped open. Bodies came pouring out, and at first she couldn’t distinguish the person she was eager to see in the tangle of bright clothes, cartoon-emblazoned backpacks, and churning arms and legs. Tamping down her anxiety, she popped onto the toes of her sneakers and looked past the throng, into the second-grade classroom.

  There, she thought, relief sweeping through her. He’s right there.

  The most important person in her world.

  Running a practiced eye over Wells Archer, she relaxed even more. His cheery expression proclaimed a good first day. Not that she’d expected any different, not really, because the six-year-old enjoyed school. But the beginning of a new school year could present difficulties.

  He looked up from stuffing a few papers into his backpack and waved at her. More cheeriness. She waved too, playing it cool, though she’d like to claim a hug and a kiss like some of the other parents were doing.

  But the fact was, she wasn’t Wells’ mother.

  Still, she didn’t dim her broad smile as he skipped toward her. Nor did she stop herself from a brief caress of his silky hair. “How are you, pal?”

  “Awesome, Charlie,” he answered, his grin displaying a gap in his bottom row of teeth. “Are we going home now? I’m starving!”

  “Home in a bit,” she answered, pulling a granola bar from her purse. “Remember, we’re staying after for a few minutes to allow parents to sign up for the book fair.”

  He snatched the treat from her hand. “Can I wait by the swings?”

  “Absolutely.” Charlie snagged his backpack and slung it over her own shoulder, ready to head for the table she’d set up near the school’s exit.

  “Excuse me,” an adult voice said. “May I speak with you a moment?”

  Charlie froze, then turned toward the woman she recognized as Ms. Ramsey, the second grade teacher.

  She swallowed. “Is everything all right?”

  “Wells,” Ms. Ramsey said to her student. “Did I hear you’re going to wait by the swings?”

  He nodded, mouth full of granola bar.

  “Go ahead,” Charlie urged. “I’ll be out shortly.” She and Ms. Ramsey watched the boy scamper off.

  Then Charlie swiveled to address the teacher. “Is there a problem?”

  “I expected to see Wells’ father picking him up this afternoon. We met two weeks ago.”

  “And he wanted to be here for the first day. But he got stuck overseas on a business trip.” She held out her hand. “I’m Charlie Emerson, the…well, I take care of Wells when his dad is at work.”

  “You’re the nanny,” Ms. Ramsey said as they shook hands.

  Technically, there was more to her duties than that, but Charlie let it be. “Did everything go all right today?”

  The sober expression on the teacher’s face made Charlie’s stomach nosedive.

  “There wasn’t really a problem,” the other woman said. “But Mr. Archer explained about Wells losing his mother four years ago and his tendency to announce the fact at…inopportune times.”

  Charlie grimaced. She thought that quirk had been fading. She also wondered if it was so “inopportune.” Wells often made the proclamation to clerks in the bakery and to servers at the ice cream store. More than once it had reaped him a free cookie or turned a single scoop into a double. “Did he bring it up today?”

  “When the students were in circle time, I asked them to say their names and tell one thing about themselves. Wells volunteered to go first and—”

  “Said his mother was dead.”

  “Almost.” Ms. Ramsey gave a brief smile. “I saw where it was going and interrupted him in time, clarifying that the children should tell one thing about their summers.”

  “Quick thinking.”

  “They keep me on my toes.” Ms. Ramsey’s smile went wider now.

  Charlie considered her. “But you rea
lly like what you’re doing. The kids.”

  “I do.” She nodded. “The hardest part about my job is not losing my heart to them.”

  Walking toward the school’s entrance, Charlie decided she approved of Ms. Ramsey. She liked the other woman’s alertness to Wells’ issues and the warmth of her smile. The hardest part about my job is not losing my heart.

  Charlie could relate to that.

  As she approached the play area near the front of the school, her gaze instantly found Wells, who’d apparently polished off his granola bar and was now using a stick to draw in the dirt alongside his friend, Jake. A few feet away, Jake’s mom, Liz, manned the volunteer table, her adorable three-year-old daughter on her hip.

  Narrowing her eyes, Charlie evaluated the scene. Colorful banner—BOOK FAIR! Volunteers Wanted!—in the background. Sign-up sheets, clearly marked with dates and times, on the long table. Pens available. A bowl of hard candy and a jar of licorice to entice and reward. It seemed to have done its job because parents and kids had gathered in the area, moms and dads on their phones to―Charlie hoped―check their personal calendars. Over six days she had divided the hours into sixty-minute slots during which volunteers would sell the books and tchotchkes displayed on temporary shelves in the auditorium.

  An up-standing display board at the far end of the table promised that all volunteers would be eligible for a variety of prizes from local businesses. Charlie had already collected gift cards from a florist, a juice bar, and a pet-walking service. The book fair could bring in a lot of money to the school for the scholarship fund that helped kids attend various field trips and the annual outdoor camp. Not everyone in the zip code lived in beachside mansions with families swimming in money.

  But everyone liked the idea of a possible reward for their generous volunteer service.

  “You’re right,” Liz whispered, as Charlie came to stand beside her. “The kids come like bees to honey for the candy, the parents follow and notice what we’re advertising. Then I flash them my winning smile.” The small blonde grinned up at her.

  “Excellent,” Charlie said, giving the signup sheets an upside-down examination. A smattering of names was attached to slots, but all Wednesday remained blank.

  “What’s with the middle of the week?” she asked her friend.

  Liz looked at her a moment, round-eyed in surprise.

  “Oh,” she said, hitching her little girl higher on her hip. “I guess you wouldn’t necessarily know. Wednesdays is when that pair of drill sergeants come in from Beverly Hills for the mid-week boot camp at the park. Nobody wants to miss that.”

  The blonde seemed to think for a minute. “Well, everybody wants to miss that, but no one dares admit to it, so we all show up and out-Jones each other until we crawl home, whimpering for our mothers.”

  “That’s right,” Charlie said, giving herself a mental slap to the forehead. While her employer was too busy with work to attend mid-week boot camp, as a butler it was up to her to stay up-to-date on all the local activities in case there came a time or a visitor who might have use of the knowledge. “I should have remembered Harry and Mary’s Hell Wednesdays.”

  Liz sidled closer and lowered her voice. “I, however, have a perfect excuse to start skipping the torture.”

  “You do?”

  Her friend’s eyebrows wiggled. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Congratulations!”

  “Keep it down,” Liz cautioned, glancing around. “I don’t want it to get out quite yet. Queen of Mean Piper Taylor will use it as an excuse to replace me as vice-room parent.”

  “Who is Piper Taylor?” Charlie whispered.

  “That’s right. You don’t know her because Wells was in the other first grade classroom last year. She’s Serafina’s maternal unit, and she wants to rule her kid’s world.”

  “But why would she want to replace you as one of the room parents?”

  “She’s the room parent. I’m only the assistant, and she doesn’t like me because I let Jake play with his sister’s dolls, and I don’t keep almond milk in the house or some such nonsense.”

  “That’s…that’s ridiculous.” Liz was the kindest of women and a wonderful mother.

  “Oh, she won’t like you either,” the blonde said blithely.

  “She doesn’t even know me.”

  “It won’t matter. But you need to be careful, for Wells’ sake. She’s taught Serafina all her mean-girl tricks. Jake’s mostly oblivious, but I think Wells might be hurt if Piper and her darling daughter decide to try to socially shame him in some way.”

  Charlie bristled, a surge of anger rising from the depths of her belly. At the edges, her vision turned red. “No one is going to shame Wells,” she said, her voice laced with brimstone.

  Her vehemence didn’t seem to surprise or put off Liz, who only nodded, but Charlie’s nerve endings went on high alert at her own fervor. This surging spike of uncontrollable protective instinct spelled trouble. Of ties getting too tightly bound.

  The hardest part about my job is not losing my heart.

  “Look lively,” Liz murmured now, “because here she comes.”

  On the surface, Piper Taylor looked like a thousand other Malibu moms. Hair highlighted just so. Body tuned by Pilates, spin, and Wednesday boot camps and dressed in the pastel tones of a little girl. She tucked a strand of straightened hair behind her ear with one finger, nail polished in a tasteful neutral.

  “Hello, Liz,” she said.

  “Hello, Piper.”

  Piper’s gaze swept over the book fair materials, then went back to the blonde, ignoring Charlie altogether. “Since when do we let babysitters head PTA committees?”

  Liz’s spine stiffened. “Charlie isn’t a ‘babysitter.’”

  “I thought there was a rule,” Piper continued. “You have to be a member of the organization to chair events like Book Fair.”

  “I am a member,” Charlie said evenly. “Last year too.”

  In the distance, a little girl circled Jake and Wells, her look, from haughty expression to lemon meringue-and orange sherbet-shaded clothes making clear to whom she belonged. The boys mostly ignored her, though Charlie saw Wells shoot the girl a quick, wary glance over his shoulder.

  Turning her attention back to the child’s mother, she held out her hand. “I’m Charlotte Emerson. Everybody calls me Charlie.”

  Piper’s palm glanced off Charlie’s, as fake as a Hollywood air-kiss.

  “How is Ethan?” she said, and then went on without waiting. “Please tell him I asked after him.”

  “Surely,” Charlie said, inclining her head.

  Then Piper addressed Liz again. “I told Ms. Ramsey that you’d clean out that supply closet for her. There are cases of poster paint and boxes of earthenware modeling clay that need to be moved down from the higher shelves.” She turned to go.

  “Charlie’s a butler,” Liz piped up. “Trained at the prestigious Continental Butler Academy.”

  Piper halted, turned back. “What?”

  “And it’s very, very prestigious, that butler school. Ethan looked far and wide to find someone well-qualified to run his household. People all over the world clamor to have a Continental graduate.”

  Charlie swallowed her smile. Liz, such a loyal friend. Nobody better, except for Sara and Emmaline, whom she’d met at the academy and who had come to Malibu as butlers too.

  Looking distinctly unimpressed, Piper turned her gaze once again on Charlie. “Well, good luck with Book Fair. I’d hate this to be the year we don’t topple the previous year’s fundraising total.” Without a goodbye, she left.

  “Well, that was fun,” Charlie said, watching as Piper collected her daughter and made for the exit. “Notice she didn’t volunteer to take a time slot.”

  “She won’t,” Liz said.

  Charlie looked down at her friend. “And you can’t do that heavy lifting.”

  “I won’t,” Liz said. “I’ll get the hubs to do it, but please, don’t tell Piper.” />
  “My lips are sealed.”

  Charlie held a much bigger secret than that. Glancing at Wells, she thought of second grade and petty, pint-sized bullies.

  She had a much bigger goal than Book Fair too. The continued health and happiness of six-going-on-seven Wells Archer.

  Charlie turned off the Pacific Coast Highway, pushing the button that opened the gates leading into the Archer estate. From the street side, there was nothing to see except those wooden barriers painted a dark turquoise, but as the barriers pulled back they revealed the L-shaped drive and the rectangular fountain that ran along it. Ahead was the two-story house, with its beige brick exterior and double entry doors in a weathered red. The tall, narrow windows on the first floor provided a glimpse through the open living space and to the back walls that were mostly glass.

  Beyond that, a spacious deck of weathered brick with a lap pool on one end and steps leading to the beach at the other. Surrounding glass panels acted as a railing and didn’t impede the spectacular ocean view but offered protection from chilly breezes.

  Wells was out of the car the instant she braked in the four-bay garage and was running for the door into the house, his backpack bumping against his heels as he dragged it along behind him. She followed more slowly, bringing with her the box filled with the book fair materials. She stowed them in the closet in the butler’s pantry as she heard Wells rummaging in the refrigerator.

  “Can I have an apple?” he called out.

  “Sure.”

  With one hand clutching the red fruit, he poked his head around the door to find her. “Dad’s coming tonight? That hasn’t changed?”

  She smiled at his eagerness and tried to smother the rush of expectation she felt herself. “I’ve not heard about any delays.”

  The boy’s face fell. “But you don’t know for sure.”

  Pulling her phone from her pocket, she checked her text messages. “Nothing new. I expect your dad is winging his way toward the LA airport. His flight arrives in a few hours, and if all is well, he’ll be here not long after dinnertime.”