Fast Break (Brooklyn Monarchs 1)

DeMarcus propped his right ankle onto his left knee. “I met with Oscar Clemente this morning.”

Jaclyn’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “How did that go?”

“Is it true he doesn’t want the head coaching job?”

“Absolutely.” She didn’t hesitate.

“How do you know?”

“Gerry offered it to him twice. Oscar stopped taking Gerry’s calls.”

DeMarcus’s eyes widened. “He stopped taking a franchise owner’s calls?”

Jaclyn’s lips twitched with a persistent smile. “Oscar doesn’t like to repeat himself. Be sure to listen the first time.”

DeMarcus absorbed that. It was a lot to take in. “Why do you keep him?”

Jaclyn freed her smile. “Some people find Oscar difficult to deal with. But he has a brilliant offensive mind and he’s passionate about the team.”

She was loyal to the assistant coach. It was in her words, in her voice, in her smile. DeMarcus couldn’t look away from that smile. If it ever came down to a choice between him or Oscar, DeMarcus was sure the man who could make her smile like that would win.

He put that thought aside. “I met with all of the coaches and the trainers. They’re good, but they’re not excited about the new season. There’s no energy or enthusiasm.”

“That’s what I was talking about Monday. We’ve assumed a culture of losing. They expect losses now. So what is there to get excited about?”

“They don’t have to be happy about the season, but I expect them to be excited about their jobs.”

Jaclyn shook her head. Her shiny brown curls bounced around her head and shoulders. “We need them to be enthusiastic about both. We need the whole organization to be excited. The Monarchs season isn’t a job. It’s a quest for the championship. And that quest starts with you.”

DeMarcus lowered his right leg from his left knee. “Preseason starts in eleven days. The regular season starts in four weeks. I don’t have time to do some pep squad routine while Oscar tightens up the defense.”

Jaclyn propped an elbow on the chair’s arm and shrugged. “Managing personalities—of the coaches as well as the players—is an important part of managing the game. And, by the way, Oscar’s weak on defense.”

“No one’s ever managed my personality.”

“There’s a lot to manage.”

Her tone was solemn, but DeMarcus caught the twinkle in her eye. Was she flirting with him? The idea piqued his interest. “We need to improve our speed and get back to basics.”

“Just remember the goal, Marc.” Jaclyn stood. “We have to get to the postseason. We need those ticket sales to stay in the Empire.”

DeMarcus stood as well. He watched her smooth the sweater-like material of her dress and almost swallowed his tongue. “I’ll get us to the postseason. You keep us in the arena.”

Jaclyn smiled. “In other words, I should stick to the front office and leave the coaching to you. I know a thing or two about what it takes to win basketball games, too.”

“I’ve got all the assistant coaches I need.”

Jaclyn turned to leave. “We’ll see how the season goes. If we’re not winning, prepare to watch Dr. Phil’s show.”

7

The Monarchs roster no longer boasted marquee players. DeMarcus had known that stepping into his role. Thirteen men sprawled before him on the bleachers of the Monarchs’ training facility Thursday morning. They were NBA veterans several seasons past their glory days. The notable exception was a young rookie whose headstrong attitude had kept him from being a high pick in the 2011 draft.

DeMarcus continued his preseason speech despite his certainty no one was listening. Still his words echoed off the court, coming back to him. “We’re going back to fundamentals—footwork, shooting, rebounds. Every time we touch the ball, we need to score.”

He was interrupted as footsteps squeaked against the hardwood. Barron Douglas sauntered toward him. The point guard’s oversized black T-shirt hung past his hips. It bared tattoos extending like sleeves down his dark brown arms to his wrists. Baggy, black nylon shorts, a match to his teammates’, skimmed his knees. His wraparound black sunglasses and silver chains weren’t regulation. A rebel. Every team had at least one. How did this one become captain?

DeMarcus inhaled a calming breath as well as the faint scent of floor wax from the high-gloss court. “Barron. Nice to finally meet you.”