Fast Break (Brooklyn Monarchs 1)

“But you’ve beaten him.”

Jaclyn capped her marker and bounced it against the document. “Gerry’s like the Terminator. He won’t give up. I just wish I had some idea of what he’ll try next.”

So did he. Was he wrong to feel so protective? He had to find the line between their personal and professional relationships. That line was his only hope of making his way back to her. “What can Gerry do? He can’t move the team out of Brooklyn. You won’t let him out of the Empire contract.”

“There are other ways to destroy a team.”

DeMarcus’s hands tightened around the armrests. “Like planting damaging stories in the media.” Gerald’s use of the media was a sore subject with him, and it always would be.

Jaclyn nodded. “That’s one way. He could delay managerial decisions—contracts, hirings, firings. When he and Bert outvoted me to hire you, I thought that was the end of the Monarchs’ season.”

DeMarcus’s lips curved. “I remember that day vividly.”

Jaclyn’s gaze wavered. “He could also stir disgruntlement among the staff. That’s why I sent the e-mail about the Empire. I wanted to make the announcement before Gerry could revise history.”

DeMarcus nodded. “He’d have taken the opportunity if you’d given it to him.”

“I know.” Jaclyn fisted her hands on the table. “I wish I could buy him out. But he won’t sell his shares.”

“That’s part of his revenge.”

“His plan is to drive me insane.”

“We’ll just have to make sure we don’t give him any openings to hurt the team.”

Jaclyn looked at him. “He can still get to us through the media. He could use them to sow dissension among the players and distract us from the season.”

DeMarcus felt Jaclyn’s fear for her team. He was concerned as well. “We have the best media executive in the league.”

Jaclyn’s expression eased slightly. “We can’t take Troy’s talents for granted. The players haven’t been playing like a team.” She dragged her fingers through her hair. “How are your meetings with them going?”

DeMarcus relaxed. She’d been cautious when he’d told her he was meeting one-on-one with the players. He’d had the sense she didn’t think he’d take these sessions seriously. “I’ve met with Barron and Jamal. I think you were right. These talks are giving me insight into the players.”

A curious smile curved her full lips. “But you’re not convinced they’ll make a difference, are you?”

DeMarcus shifted in his seat. “Let’s just say my mind is much more open for now. Barron thinks the game’s all about him. I told him I’m making him responsible for his teammates’ performance, starting with Jamal.”

Jaclyn looked surprised. “I like that.”

DeMarcus warmed with her words and reaction. “Jamal has multiple personalities.”

Jaclyn blinked. “Are any of them going to learn the playbook?”

DeMarcus chuckled. “I told him I’d fine him if he didn’t. That was Barron’s idea.”

Jaclyn arched a brow. “I’m impressed—by both of you.”

DeMarcus lowered his voice. “I’m trying, Jack.”

Jaclyn’s eyes dimmed. “On behalf of the team, I appreciate it, Marc.”

DeMarcus’s words barely carried on a breath. “You’re ready to trust me again with your team, but you won’t trust me with your heart?”

Jaclyn looked away. “It’s much more fragile.”

23

Warrick Evans strolled into DeMarcus’s office. The shooting guard’s loose-limbed gait conveyed a confidence he hadn’t shown on the court all season. His baggy, silver and black Brooklyn Monarchs warm-up jacket and pants concealed the strength and agility the twelve-year veteran could reveal on a dime—if he tried.