Betting on Beaumont: A Brooklyn Novel #3 (The Brooklyn Series) by Danielle Jamie Read Free Book Online Page B

does have the right to be angry with Shayne. You don’t let a friend throw you a party in his club and not have the decency to try and pull him aside to clear the air. Shayne knew that story was nothing but BS. Last night’s shot was innocent fun. I hate myself for asking you to do it. I had no idea it would blow up into something this big.”
    “Mmm hmm,” is all she say’s before stepping onto the elevator.
    She looks exhausted and completely devastated. I can only hope that things will smooth over by the morning. They’ve been through so much already. I don’t know how much more Savannah can take before she finally gives up and walks away for good. She loves Kayden with all of her heart, but a girl can only take so much before she has to say enough is enough. How many times does one have to be knocked down before they finally cave and say they don’t have any fight left?
    I know Kayden loves her. If he truly loves her as much as he claims he does, then he will have to fight tooth and nail to make things strong between them again. Savannah can’t be the only one fighting to fix the broken pieces in this relationship.
    I only wish that people could leave them alone and simply let them be happy.
    Is that really asking too much?
    As soon as we reenter Kayden’s suite, Savannah plops down onto one of the chairs in the foyer. Kicking her heels off, she leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees and her chin in the palm of her hands. She drops her gaze down to the floor, lost in her thoughts.
    I refuse to let her sit and wallow in self-pity. We’re in Las Vegas, in the most off the hook penthouse suite known to man. She needs to relax and stop stressing. We have to think positive that everything will work out.
    Walking past her, I head into the attached kitchen where the guys have an assortment of alcohol.
    Looking around at the wine fridge and then the assorted liquor filling the kitchen island, I yell toward the foyer to Savannah, “What’s your poison, Savannah? Wine or Jack Daniels?”
    There’s a slight pause and I begin to wonder if she’s decided to be a pain in the ass and ignore me, but then I hear her respond, “Wine sounds good.”
    Bending down, I pull out a bottle of white wine and set it on the counter top. After rummaging through a few drawers I find the corkscrew and pop open the bottle.
    I grab two wine glasses from the cupboard and fill each class to the top. A night like this calls for a ‘ drink-the-entire-bottle’ kind of night.
    Scooping up the glasses and dangling them between my index finger and middle finger, I walk back into the foyer. Savannah’s sitting in the chair still and staring down at her left hand…at her engagement ring. She’s lost in thought as she twists the ring on her finger that she doesn’t hear me entering the room until I’m almost to her.
    My feet were aching in those goddamn heels, so I kicked them off right alongside Savannah the second we entered the suite. I have a love-hate relationship with my heels. I love the way they look on me, but I hate the way they kill my fucking feet whenever I wear them. It’s a struggle trying to look this good. 
    Stopping in front of her, I offer Savannah her wine glass. The second she stares up at me, I feel sadness stab me sharply in the heart. It kills me when she’s hurting like this. She’s my best friend in the entire world.
    When she hurts—I hurt and vice versa.
    I smile at her sympathetically, “Drink up, bestie.”
    “Thanks, girly, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Savannah says, smiling weakly at me as she takes the wine glass from my hand.
    Walking over to the chair beside hers, I fall back into it, taking extra caution not to spill my wine. I take a sip and savor the crisp flavor as it explodes against my taste buds. I close my eyes momentarily savoring the peace and quiet.
    Resting my class on my thigh, I lean into Savannah bumping my shoulder into hers as a light, airy giggle escapes my