Fast Break (Brooklyn Monarchs 1)
“I have to do?” It was a test. He knew it and Oscar knew it. The sooner Oscar accepted that this experiment would be a team from the top down, the better. DeMarcus kept his gaze steady.
“We have to do.” The acceptance was grudging, but it came.
The office of the president and chief executive officer of Tipton’s Fashionwear resembled a family sitting room. Jaclyn eased into one of the two overstuffed, yellow and blue armchairs bracketing a round mahogany coffee table. Albert Tipton Jr. sat in the other. The matching sofa crouched across the room. Family photos placed on the tops of file cabinets, bookcases and corner tables carried her back in time. She and her grandfather had attended those parties, graduations, weddings and baptisms.
Jaclyn tapped into those memories as she faced Albert. “How’s Cheryl? She’s a sophomore at Georgetown now, isn’t she?” She sipped her coffee as she studied Albert’s friendly, open features. Gray hairs scattered among the tight black curls along his temples. He was only a few years older than her father would have been if he’d lived.
Albert beamed as she’d known he would. His eyes moved to the photos on his desk. “Yes, she is. She’s majoring in business with a minor in design. Going to take over her old man’s company.”
His voice sang with pride as he continued to boast the accomplishments of the youngest of his four children.
Jaclyn strained against the bittersweet feelings. “That’s wonderful, Bert, that your daughter would want to continue your family business.”
A flush highlighted Albert’s cocoa cheekbones. “Yes, it is. I’m very proud of her.”
“I’m sure that’s what she wants. For you to be proud of her, the same way I want my grandfather to be proud of me.”
Albert’s smile wavered. He lowered his coffee cup from his mouth. “Frank was proud of you, Jackie.”
Her breathing quickened as though she’d sprinted across the basketball court in hot pursuit of an opponent. “I don’t think so, Bert. My grandfather entrusted me with his franchise, his dream. And, while I was wallowing in self-pity after his death, you and Gerry have been destroying it.”
Albert’s lips parted as though her attack surprised him. His reaction was understandable. In the past, she’d been deferential toward the elder partners. Today, the gloves were off.
Albert’s eyes darkened with confusion. “We’re not trying to destroy the Monarchs. We want to improve the franchise by finding a bigger market for it. We need to move the team to a state where we won’t have to compete with another franchise for market shares.”
“I’ve negotiated contracts for years with Jonas and Prather. Do you know what I’ve noticed over my career?”
“What?”
“When people parrot other people, they don’t sound sure of themselves. That’s because they’re expressing someone else’s decision.”
A spark of anger straightened Albert’s back. “I’m not parroting Gerry.”
Jaclyn crossed her legs. “Do the math, Bert. There are more than eight million people in New York City. Almost two-and-a-half million of them live here in Brooklyn. The Empire Arena only seats twenty thousand ticket holders. How much of a market share do we need?”
Albert stared into his coffee. “We aren’t filling the arena.”
Jaclyn eased her grip on the fragile cup, afraid she’d crush it and stain her russet-heather sweater dress with Folgers’s breakfast blend. “You’re not going to automatically fill an arena once you move the team.”
“We need to fill the arena.”
Albert’s tone told Jaclyn he was sticking to the script Gerald had given him. “Then help me rebuild the team.” She pushed herself to the edge of her seat. “The best way to fill the arena is to win. The fans came when we were winning.”
Albert shifted in his chair. “Gerry said you’d have an emotional reaction to our decision to move the team. But, Jackie, this is business. Our fathers would agree with us.”
Jaclyn blinked. Did he really believe that? “Why?”
Albert frowned as though he didn’t understand her question. “Because we’ll bring in more money.”
She could hear her pulse beating in her ears. “Our families didn’t start the Monarchs to become rich. The franchise is for the community. Neighborhoods in this area were dying. Businesses were failing. When the Monarchs started playing, people came back. Jobs came back. Kids who grew up here returned to raise their own families in their neighborhood.”
Albert gripped his coffee cup like a shield. “If the neighborhood starts to stru
ggle again, someone else will help.”
Shock stole her thoughts. “Someone else? What would your father think if he could hear you?”
What could she say to reach him? What could she do? He didn’t have the connection to the community that his father or her grandfather had had. If he did, he wouldn’t leave the neighborhood to others to help. He wouldn’t move the Monarchs.