Fast Break (Brooklyn Monarchs 1)

Althea smoothed her scarf. “Vanessa

was interesting.”

Jaclyn swung her attention to Althea’s change of subject. She gave her friend a crooked smile. “You make understatement an art.”

“Flattery got me to take this position. Now I want to know exactly what the situation is.”

Jaclyn leaned into her desk, folding her hands together. She put into words her fears and dread. “I need someone with me whom I can trust.”

Althea grew still. Her thin black brows knitted. “You’re a franchise owner. You’ve known everyone here for years. Why do you think you can’t trust them?”

Tension crept into Jaclyn’s shoulders. She sipped more coffee. It was growing cold. “I don’t know who I can or can’t trust. I’ve removed the snake from the Empire. But I have a feeling Gerry’s cultivated loyalties among the staff, people who would tell him what I’m doing.”

Althea’s jaw dropped. “I can’t believe that. I’d never betray my employer’s confidence.”

“I know. That’s why I asked you to come work with me.” Jaclyn sensed the other woman’s continued unease. “Gerry and Bert caught me off guard with their plans to relocate the Monarchs. I don’t want them to find out what I’m doing to prevent that.”

“What are you doing?”

Jaclyn sat back in her chair, trying to relax. “The finance department ran the numbers for me yesterday. Merchandising sales have more than doubled, and preseason ticket sales are up almost fifty percent. I underestimated the welcome our fans would give their prodigal son returning as the Monarchs’ head coach.”

Althea wagged her finger. “I told you so. Marc Guinn may not have played in New York, but he’s from New York. And he’s going into the Hall of Fame. He’s going to raise the team’s profile.”

Jaclyn waved a hand. “Whatever the reason, let’s hope the revenue continues to increase. It will give a healthy boost to the Empire’s profit share and persuade them to keep us as tenants.”

“The owners get rent plus profit share?”

“For ticket sales only. The profit share allows us to keep our rent low. At first, the arrangement worked in the owners’ favor. Now it doesn’t, which is the reason they want us out.”

Althea smoothed the skirt of her dress. “So, you’re meeting with the Empire owners’ lawyers again?”

Jaclyn checked her watch. Her stomach knotted as she thought of the upcoming presentation. “I’m meeting with Gerry and Bert this morning to discuss the numbers. But, yes, this afternoon I have a meeting with Bonner and Taylor.”

“Have you considered bypassing the lawyers and going straight to the owners?”

Jaclyn frowned. “That’s not the way negotiations are done.”

Althea shrugged a shoulder. “So? You have too much to lose to follow the rules. Remember, nice guys—or girls—finish last.”

“Dorothy Parker?” Jaclyn enjoyed guessing the source of the quotes Althea frequently used. She was usually wrong.

“Leo Durocher, former Brooklyn Dodgers manager.”

Jaclyn watched her friend and assistant stride from her office. Althea had worked for the Monarchs less than a day, but already she was using sports references. Another Monarchs fan converted. Jaclyn smiled. Cool.

Gerald and Albert were waiting for Jaclyn in one of the Monarchs’ smaller conference rooms. They grew quiet as her three-inch stilettos tapped across the threshold. What had they been talking about? Jaclyn clenched her teeth. She wouldn’t give in to crippling paranoia.

She noted the blush in Albert’s cheeks and the tightness around his mouth. Strain. He’d adjusted his red and blue patterned tie and unbuttoned his conservative navy blue suit jacket. What was bothering him?

“Good morning, gentlemen.” Satisfaction warmed her when her steps didn’t falter.

Gerald had taken the chair at the head of the small rectangular mahogany conference table. It was the position of power in any meeting. It was a good offensive strategy, making sure to keep her on the defensive.

Jaclyn’s stilettos tapped across the silver-tiled floor as she circled the table, handing both men copies of the report the finance department had generated. She then sank into the seat opposite Gerald.

Gerald smirked. His ruby knit crewneck sweater warmed his mocha skin and made his beady eyes and wavy hair look even darker. “I hope you’re not going to make a habit of calling these last-minute meetings, Jackie. You have to get organized.”

Jaclyn returned Gerald’s gaze without reaction. How could her father have formed a friendship with anyone from Gerald’s family?