Page 4 of Challenge Accepted

Of course he did. “Wow.”

“Yeah, my life is on this thing.”

“I can tell.”

“It’s hard to have a social life when I’m tied to this thing, but if I want to make partner, this is a small sacrifice.”

“Goals are great.”

He made a humming sound and his fingers flew over the screen. With him preoccupied, she indulged in her favorite hobby—people watching. An old couple a few rows down from them were both decked out in Syracuse-wear from head to toe. And if she didn’t miss her guess, they were having a healthy debate about a certain quarterback.

She scanned the rows around them. Ever conscious of style, she noticed the jewelry that people were wearing. Because they were in the last heartbeat of summer, gold was prevalent. She glanced down at her own fingers. Slim gold rings decoratedher forefinger and thumbs on each hand. The current style of layering rings gave her cause to play with different bands.

She liked the super slim style but took notice of the chunky middle and forefinger rings that peppered the crowd of younger women in the next tier above her. She turned to the woman behind her who was probably just over the hump of twenty, instead of her own scrambling slide toward thirty.

“That’s a super cute ring.”

The girl looked down at the wire-wrapped onyx. “Oh, thanks. I got it when I was over in Jamaica last month.”

Presley pulled out her phone. “Do you mind if I take a picture of it? I’m a jewelry designer and love the look.”

The girl pressed her hand over the top of her program. “Wow. Like you do stuff with gems and all that?”

She laughed. “And all that. But I like the wire work too.” She flashed her fingers. “I made all of these.”

The girl peered over at her hand. “See, now that I love. Makes your fingers look so dainty and elegant.”

“Well, thanks.” Presley dug into her bag for a card. “Come by the shop anytime. I’ll make you something for a good deal.” She scribbled on the back of the card so if she did come in that Presley would remember where she’d met her.

“That’s awesome. I totally will.”

Presley took a quick couple of shots with her iPhone and tucked it away. “Thanks.”

She turned around at the exasperated sigh her date made.

“Do you do that often?”

“What?”

“Sell yourself.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “As opposed to you being on the phone this whole time?”

Daniel shrugged. “I was just wondering if you were going to do that through the whole game.”

She was saved from the acerbic answer at the tip of her tongue by a group of guys making their way down their row. They were loud, but not obnoxious. Just obviously fans of the game, and probably a beer or two into the evening.

Dark Haired Guy was one of them. He hauled his friend back from the seat beside her and dropped down next to her. “I know this girl. No way are you going to get beer all over her when you don’t agree with the ref.”

She grinned at him. “My white shorts thank you.”

“And so they should.” His eyes were hidden behind aviators still, but she had the distinct feeling that he was checking out her legs instead of her shorts.

“I would never spill on a lady,” his friend said. “Besides, you don’t even know her. You just want to sit next a pretty girl.”

“That I do,” Dark Haired Guy said. “But we met earlier. You know, when you guys almost mowed her down.”

Presley looked over at her date, but he already had his phone attached to his ear again. How he could hear in the chaos, she had no clue. She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to her new neighbor. “I survived.”

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