Smooth Play (Brooklyn Monarchs 2)

He was the second person in less than an hour who wanted her to grab a seat on the Bash the Brooklyn Monarchs train. Willis said the negative coverage would increase sales. What was Gerald’s true motivation?

Andrea picked up her mug and sipped her coffee. The scalding liquid had cooled. “You expect me to believe you want my help improving the team’s reputation? I didn’t come down with the last rain, Gerry.”

Gerald leaned back in his red chair. “You should consider my offer. I doubt you want to spend the rest of your professional career with Sports. Let me use my contacts to get you a better job.”

Maybe it was in Gerald’s power to get her a better paying position with a higher profile newspaper or magazine—like the job she’d lost four years ago. But she wouldn’t accept his help. Her soul was too high a price to pay for a better career.

Andrea stood, adjusting her brown purse strap on her shoulder. “No, thank you.”

She turned to leave. Once bitten, twice shy. Andrea had forgotten her integrity four years ago, and she was still working hard to get it back.

Gerald rose to accompany her. “Think about it.” His tone was urgent, persuasive. “We’d be doing each other a favor.”

“There’s nothing to think about.” She walked faster, anxious to return to the Sports’s building so she could get away from Gerald. He easily kept pace with her.

They were almost to the corner of the block when Gerald broke the silence. “I’d hate to give this opportunity to another reporter.”

Andrea stopped to turn on him. “You’re not going to find anyone unscrupulous enough to help you.”

Gerald laughed. “Do you really believe that?”

No, she didn’t.

She watched Gerald continue a f

ew feet farther down the street to a red Lexus coupe. He climbed into the car and pulled away from the curb. To go where? Home? The Empire Arena? Another newspaper’s office?

Andrea glanced at her navy Ford Escort. Little did her editor know her twenty-one-year-old compact wasn’t temperamental only in cold weather. Andrea walked across the street to the bus stop to wait for the line that would deliver her two blocks from the Empire Arena. She crossed her arms and scowled. Troy had been judgmental and rude to her earlier. Why was she making a personal visit to tell him about Gerald’s latest scheme? Was it professional courtesy—or an excuse to see the media executive again?

Serge Gateau’s broad back blocked Andrea’s view of Troy’s administrative assistant. The Monarchs forward towered over the desk.

Andrea stopped beside the giant Frenchman. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“Non. Non.” Serge’s blue eyes twinkled with humor. His golden locks grew in sexy waves to his broad shoulders. “I was welcoming the newest member of our team.” He swung his large hand between Andrea and the slender woman seated behind the desk. “Andrea Benson, may I present Troy’s new administrative assistant, Constance Street. Connie, Andrea is a reporter with the New York Sports.”

Andrea offered the smiling blonde her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Constance blinked her wide, grass green eyes. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Serge stepped back from the desk. “I’ll leave you ladies to your work.” He gave Constance a warm smile, the kind Andrea had seen on the Turner Classic Movies channel. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you get settled here.”

Constance lowered her gaze. “Thank you.”

Andrea waited for Serge to leave before turning back to the slender blonde. “Have we met before?”

A vague discomfort clouded Constance’s expression. She set aside the newspaper she’d folded open to the Apartments for Rent section. “We met at the Morning Glory Chapel. You helped sort the clothes donated to the shelter.”

Andrea still couldn’t make the connection. “Are you a volunteer, too?”

“I’m one of the homeless.” Her warm Midwestern accent tensed.

The image of a pale, stressed woman bundled in layers of thin clothing and holding firmly to a toddler superimposed itself over the more relaxed woman in a too-large, lavender sweater. Andrea also remembered her bruises. “You have a little girl.”

Constance’s smile returned. “Tiffany.”

Andrea nodded. “How long have you worked for the Monarchs?”

Constance’s eyes sparkled. “Jackie told me about the job opening last week. I started Monday, four days ago. Now I just need to find a place to live.”