Smooth Play (Brooklyn Monarchs 2)
Troy folded his hands on the table. “Then let’s make this quick. Call off your dog, Gerry.”
“What dog would that be?”
A slender young woman dressed in the café’s red and white uniform paused beside Troy. “Sir, can I get you something to drink?”
He’d ask for a beer if he weren’t returning to the office. “Ice water, please.” He waited for the young woman to leave before continuing. “I saw the Insider blog on the Horn’s website, Gerry. Tell the paper to take it down.”
Gerald picked up his own glass of ice water. Idle curiosity marked his manner. “Are you ordering me?”
It was hard to remember Gerald was the boss when Troy had more loyalty to the company. “I’m asking you.”
“Maybe Jackie lets you get away with that tone, but I don’t take orders from staff.”
Troy narrowed his gaze. “Why are you doing this? The only ones who benefit from your attacks against your own team are your competitors.”
The server returned with Troy’s water. “Are you gentlemen ready to order?”
Troy declined food but waited while Gerald placed his brunch request. He gave Troy a sly look when the young woman left. “What exactly do you think I’m doing?”
The throbbing started in Troy’s temples. He took a sip of water. “You’re paying the Insider to harass the team. Jamal didn’t give the guy an interview. The blogger made it up, probably with your help.”
“What makes you think I have anything to do with this blog?”
Troy almost choked on another sip of water. “It’s your M.O., Gerry. You did the same thing with Marc.”
Gerald shrugged. “Actually, I didn’t.”
“You’re right. Andy Benson exposed you first.”
Gerald gave him a smug smile. “So you say.”
Troy drained his glass of water. “Stop trashing the team, Gerry. With all due respect, you should have let go of whatever grudge you held against Jackie’s grandfather when he died. These players shouldn’t have to suffer for it.”
Gerald spread his hands above the table. “I don’t have any knowledge of the blogger or the blog you’re talking about.”
Troy stood and parroted Gerald’s earlier response. “So you say.”
He strode from the restaurant, disappointed but not surprised. It was Gerald, after all. His whole reason for being was to bedevil the Jones family, and his weapon of choice was the Monarchs.
Reasoning with Gerald hadn’t worked. He’d move on to Plan B. Whatever that was.
“You convinced the Horn to take down the Monarchs Insider post about Jamal.” Jaclyn’s terse words were more warning than praise.
Troy stood as his boss strode into his office Friday afternoon. He’d told Jaclyn about the blog yesterday. She hadn’t seemed worried at the time. But today, her features were tight with anger.
His gaze fell to the printout in her right hand. He had a premonition of disaster. “They took it down yesterday.”
“And replaced it with this.” Jaclyn thrust a computer printout at him.
The new blog entry was a popular topic. There were almost three hundred comments posted to it. The title was “Mrs. and Mr. Jones.” Troy gripped the sheet. He hadn’t received this latest Google Alert, nor had he checked the online column. He should have.
Troy skimmed the brief blog. The Insider called Jaclyn a fool for believing DeMarcus Guinn was in love with her when he could have any woman he wanted. It offered a David Letterman–style list of the top ten reasons DeMarcus would fake a relationship with the Monarchs’ co-owner. Each reason was more insulting than the last.
He looked into his boss’s flashing brown eyes. Even her long, black curls quivered with fury. “This is trash.” What else could he say?
“If this blogger wanted to distract the team, he’s succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. I’m furious. Marc will be livid.” Jaclyn’s normally smooth voice was rough as sandpaper.
Troy dropped the printout to his desk. “Don’t let them get to you.”