Andrea sucked in a breath. He was denying her access. “Why won’t you trust me?”
“I can’t shut out every reporter but you. That wouldn’t be fair.”
Andrea wrapped her half-eaten sandwich in the napkin Troy had given her and stuffed it into her bag. She stood, jerking her purse strap onto her shoulder. “I covered the Monarchs when Brooklyn tried to forget you were here. I come to you for answers when other reporters print speculation. And now you’re going to treat me the same way you treat them. Who’s not being fair?”
Bitter disappointment soured in her stomach as she stalked out of Troy’s office. He’d implemented a gag order, preventing the team from talking to her. How was she supposed to advance her career if she couldn’t do her job?
Minutes after Andrea left, Troy strode into Jaclyn’s office. He stopped behind her guest chairs. “Gerry’s trying to get the media to smear the team again.”
Jaclyn tossed her pen onto her desk and sank back into her chair. “The man’s a one-trick pony.”
Troy glanced at the silver and black Monarchs pin fastened near the left shoulder of Jaclyn’s violet skirt suit. “Why is he doing this?”
“I wish I knew.” Her expression was tight with an anger Troy understood.
He rubbed the back of his neck as he paced Jaclyn’s office. His gaze circled the room. It was decorated in the team’s colors, silver and black. Like his office, Jaclyn’s beige walls displayed accolades from the Monarchs’ past, including team awards, commendations, and photographs of her grandfather—one of the franchise’s four founding members—with community leaders.
He strode back toward his boss. His shoes sank into the plush silver carpet. “How do we make him stop?”
“You mean, how do I make him stop.” Her voice was dry enough for kindling. “I offered to buy Gerry’s shares at more than fair market value. He refused to sell.”
“How do we change his mind?” Troy didn’t want to hear about what wouldn’t work. He needed a solution. His job was to get positive press for the team. Gerald was threatening that goal.
Jaclyn arched a brow. “Short of threatening him?”
Troy tossed Jaclyn a look as he settled into one of her visitors’ chairs. “I’m serious. We can’t afford another article like the one Andy wrote on Barron.”
She angled her head. “Why do you call her Andy? You know she doesn’t like it.”
“It suits her.” It goaded her. Sparks flew from the reporter’s startling brown eyes every time he used the nickname. It was a childish tactic, but the reaction let him know she was at least paying attention to him. Like tugging on the cute girl’s pigtails in the elementary school playground.
“Andrea did a good job on the article.”
Troy drummed his fingers on the chair’s arm. “No, she didn’t.”
“It was fair. That’s all we can expect from the media. We can’t tell them what stories to cover or how to write them. But we should at least expect them to be fair.”
“Fair? It shows Barron in a bad light and quotes the other players complaining about him. Another story like that could disrupt the locker room.”
Jaclyn raised one hand palm out. “Andrea didn’t make the team look bad. They did that themselves. You’ve told the players to keep their complaints in house. The next time Andrea interviews them, they won’t have anything negative to say.”
Troy’s fingers stilled. “I didn’t only tell the players not to complain to the press. I’ve denied reporters access to the team.”
Jaclyn’s brows knitted. “Was that a good idea? The press is already complaining about you.”
Tension tightened his muscles. “My priority is the Monarchs. I’m not going to let the media distract the team.”
Jaclyn didn’t look convinced. “Are you including Andrea in your media ban?”
He gave her a sharp look. “Yes. I have to treat all of the reporters the same. Either they all have access or they don’t.”
“Says who?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to give Andy preferential treatment.”
“Why not? Who gets access to our team is our decision.”
Troy recognized a hint of reason in Jaclyn’s point. “If we play favorites, we’ll make the situation worse.”