Fast Break (Brooklyn Monarchs 1)

“Don’t worry. The Mighty Guinn knows how to win.”

Jaclyn paused as their replacements showed up. The two women took over Violet and Jaclyn’s stations.

Jaclyn walked beside Violet back to the kitchen area. She tossed her apron and hairnet into the laundry basket. “But does he know how to coach? You know as well as I do that it takes three things for a team to win—talent, coaching and chemistry. We have talent. But we need coaching and chemistry to bring it out.”

“You don’t think Marc Guinn has what it takes to bring out the chemistry in the Monarchs?”

“No, I don’t. And, even worse, he doesn’t want to.” Jaclyn led the way out of the chapel. She stood at the top of the front steps and swept her gaze over the aging storefronts, pedestrian lunch traffic and persistent street vendors. “After three losing seasons, if we don’t change the team’s attitude, we won’t have a prayer of winning.”

Gerald Bimm was pretentious. His office was a showcase for his museum-quality art. DeMarcus considered the track lighting that lit the professionally framed modern paintings hanging on every wall. Abstract metal sculptures posed on shelves and tables all around him. There wasn’t a single picture of the Monarchs or any team paraphernalia in the room. Not even a logo.

DeMarcus sat in one of the three green armchairs facing the franchise partner’s desk. His office was smaller than Gerald’s. Still, he felt lost in his room, whereas Gerald had wedged himself into this space. DeMarcus felt crowded by the other man’s belongs.

“Is it true you hired me to lose?” DeMarcus didn’t see the point in beating around the bush.

Gerald’s body seemed to relax. His narrow form was impeccably dressed in a pin-striped brown suit. He was buttoned into his jacket even as he reclined behind his desk. “I’m glad that’s out in the open. Who told you?”

He couldn’t have heard correctly. “It’s true?”

There was an edgy look in Gerald’s small brown eyes. “It doesn’t matter how you found out. All that matters now is that you know the plan.”

DeMarcus narrowed his eyes. “You lied about the reason you were hiring me.”

Gerald looked surprised. “I didn’t tell you I wanted you to win.”

DeMarcus gritted his teeth. “It was implied.”

Gerald waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. You’re in on the plan now.”

“You want me to lose.” Losing was a foreign concept to DeMarcus. He never allowed himself to imagine it. He always envisioned success.

“Yes, we do.” Gerald’s tone was definite.

“‘We’ who? You and Bert?” DeMarcus pictured the third Monarchs franchise partner, Albert Tipton. The smaller man hadn’t spoken much during DeMarcus’s job interview.

“And Jackie. All of us.”

DeMarcus stilled. “The three of you discussed it?”

“Yes. We’ve had several in-depth discussions.” Gerald’s expression was earnest. The liar made a good actor.

“And what did Jackie say?”

Gerald shrugged his shoulders. “She agrees that we should go for a losing season.”

DeMarcus’s blood heated. Gerald’s dishonesty didn’t bode well for their working relationship. “Why?”

Gerald pulled his chair farther under his desk and leaned across it. “We want to break the arena contract and relocate the team.”

DeMarcus hadn’t considered that. “Have you had any offers?”

“Not yet. But I’m sure the offers will come once we put out the feelers.”

“Where are you looking?”

Gerald shrugged again. “We’d prefer a state that doesn’t have an NBA team. Like Nevada.”

The situation couldn’t get any worse if he tried. “What would my role be?”