Cannon (Pittsburgh Titans #6) Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Pittsburgh Titans Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
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“You know working this trade to keep a man that isn’t up to par is an emotional choice,” Callum points out.

“You hired me because I use empowerment and inspiration to drive change. This is a perfect example of that.”

Callum chuckles as he shakes his head. Knocking his knuckles on the table, he stands from his chair. “All right. You’ve made a compelling argument. I’ll start the ball rolling and keep you updated.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say as I rise. “Good luck.”

And he’d need it. Trades aren’t as easy as they sound as there’s still more negotiating to be done, salary caps to keep an eye on, agents who can be prickly, and no-trade clauses that some players have. I have no clue about any of those details, but that’s not my job. It’s Callum’s.

We chat a bit more about tomorrow’s game in Montreal before we shake hands and part ways.

The first thing I do is check my phone, turning off silent mode.

My heart thumps when I see that Ava returned my call. I like that she didn’t text but rather took the time to phone.

I listen to her voicemail as I walk through the executive suite’s maze of halls. Hey, Cannon. Sorry I missed your calls and texts. I was sleeping… late night and all. Call me when you get a chance.

Late night indeed, except while the words were meant in jest, her voice sounded sad. I note the time and that I’ve got a meeting in about fifteen minutes.

I see an empty conference room, step inside, and close the door. I move to the window that overlooks the river and the Pittsburgh skyline as I dial Ava.

CHAPTER 7

Ava

I’m blow-drying my hair, so I can’t quite hear my phone ringing from where it sits on the vanity, but the screen changes and I see Cannon’s name and number.

Turning off the dryer, I connect the call. “Hey.”

“Hey back,” he says. “I’m glad you called. I was afraid you were pissed and didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I’m in no way upset at you,” I assure him, turning around and leaning back on the counter. “I was just exhausted, so I got some sleep.”

“I’m really sorry you lost your job. I talked to your manager, and he’s an asshole. Wouldn’t even reconsider.”

“You did?” I exclaim.

“Well, yeah.” I hear the confusion in his voice. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s not any of your business or responsibility.” I wince over the blunt rebuke, even though it was delivered with gentleness. I huff out a breath of frustration. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, and I’m grateful you tried. It’s just… lately I’m told that I make wrong or bad decisions and it’s important that I own up to this and figure it out myself. No one thinks I can be independent. No one thinks I can do things on my own. Everyone is waiting for me to fail.”

It’s silent, and for a moment, I think Cannon might have hung up on me, but then he asks, “You know it’s okay to fail, right, Ava?”

I’m almost stunned speechless, because no… I don’t know that. “Is that some witchy coaching wisdom?”

Cannon laughs. “I know a thing or two about failure and winning. You must be able to fail in order to win.”

“Maybe you should tell that to my family,” I mutter.

“Sounds like a lot of baggage to unpack.” I hear the empathetic smile in his voice. “Let’s have dinner tonight and you can vent.”

“Why would you even want to bother with an unemployed loser like me?” I tease playfully, because there’s something about Cannon telling me it’s okay to fail that makes me feel a little all right.

“Well, that’s easy,” he drawls. “Because you’re great in the sack, contrary to your ex-douche’s opinion.”

I can’t help but bust out laughing because really, the entire reason we were in the sack in the first place was because Derek said I was a lousy lay.

Funny how the fates work.

But I am cautious. “I don’t know, Cannon.”

“Come on… let’s do dinner. I’m catching an early flight to Montreal in the morning. We can cook something together either at your place or mine. You can tell me all about the people who make you feel like you have to be perfect.”

It makes me laugh again because when he says it that way, it seems ridiculous for me to get bent out of shape at the thought of disappointing my family.

I quickly calculate the cost of gas for driving into the city and back, versus the cost of humiliation of him seeing the dump I live in. I decide to be optimistic that I’ll find a job soon and can burn a little gas for a dinner date.

“Let’s do your place. What time do you want me there?” I ask.

“Seven, okay?”

“Sure. Not like I have a job to worry about.” I laugh, but Cannon doesn’t. Coughing to dispel my embarrassment, I ask, “Can I pick up anything from the grocery store?”


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