Camden (Pittsburgh Titans #8) Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Pittsburgh Titans Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
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“Want me to go with you?” I ask, feeling the undeniable pull to stick by her side for reassurance.

Maybe protection.

For some deep reason, I don’t want this to be hard on Danica. The entire point of my coming to this was to grease the wheels for the sponsorship. I had assumed the guy would be so grateful he’d be tossing money at Danica, but in truth, he hasn’t acknowledged either one of us.

She shakes her head, hitching her purse up her shoulder. “I need to do this on my own. Wish me luck.”

I watch as Danica walks across the parquet flooring that was laid over the grass, her shoulders back and her chin lifted. She might be quaking on the inside but she looks determined and confident.

When she reaches the group of men, Graham Bale keeps talking, refusing to look at her, even though he knows she’s there. I know this because I saw his eyes cut to her as she approached.

Danica waits patiently, even as other men converse with Graham.

He continues to ignore her.

I’ve about made my mind up to walk over there when Danica reaches out to touch his arm very briefly. I can’t hear her, but I can see the apology in her expression. She reaches into her purse, and pulls out the pledge form.

A flash of irritation crosses Graham’s face but Danica pays it no mind. She hands him the form with a pen and doesn’t seem to ask him to sign it but rather tells him.

I’m sure politely, of course.

Graham takes the form and twists to the side to bend over a high-top table to sign it. While he does that, I can’t help but grin over Danica’s temerity. She introduces herself to the other men in the group, nodding toward Graham as he hands the form back to her.

She continues talking and I have no doubt she’s soliciting help for the foundation. Several of the men nod and Danica pulls cards from her purse, handing them out.

Good girl.

When she walks back my way, her smile is smug and her eyes twinkle with satisfaction.

I hold out my fist. “I have no clue what you said but I can tell that was quite the successful little trip you just made.”

She bumps hers against mine and it’s at that moment I realize she’s not only a lefty but that she doesn’t have on her wedding rings. I’m not necessarily surprised, but it’s what popped into my mind as our knuckles touched.

Danica beams at me. “That felt good. A few of them promised sponsorships.”

“You’re a natural,” I praise.

“Maybe so,” she muses, nodding toward the exit. “But I’m about ready to blow this joint. I need to pick up Travis, and this was actually a bit exhausting.”

I walk with Danica through the house and out the front door where a valet retrieves our cars. The Bale mansion has a massive half-circle driveway but very little parking so they hired a company to park the guests’ vehicles. Danica’s comes before mine, a small Nissan that looks new but not the Escalade she used to drive.

There’s a moderate snow falling and it’s forecasted to continue through the night. I walk with her to the driver’s side.

“Thank you again for helping me with this,” she says, and to my surprise steps into me for a hug. I wrap my arms around and squeeze her.

“I’m glad to help again if you need me,” I offer, and then glance upward. “Drive carefully, okay? The snow is getting heavy.”

“I will,” she promises as she drops into her front seat. “You do the same.”

“Take care, Dani.”

“You too.”

I close her door and watch her pull out of the driveway. It was nice doing this for her and I’d like to think that wherever Mitch is right now, he’s happy I helped her out.

CHAPTER 7

Danica

Pushing up from the table, I grab my empty water bottle and toss it in the recycle bin. I bend backward, hands at my hips and groan as the muscles in my aching back bark at me before my spine pops. I’ve been sitting at the kitchen table working and the chair is in no way ergonomically friendly.

My stomach rumbles and I see it’s almost noon. I didn’t eat breakfast for no other reason than time slipped away from me. That happens a lot these days with everything I have going on, between managing a full-time job that I’m learning as I go, raising a kid by myself and keeping the house cleaned and meals somewhat planned and healthy. After all of that’s done, there’s precious little time left and some days I’ll forget to eat until dinnertime.

Of course, I’ll usually make up for it by overeating something totally bad for me, like a big plate of pasta, because I think I’m starving, then I’ll feel like shit. I’m surprised my body hasn’t rebelled these last few weeks as I’ve tried to juggle it all.


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