Smooth Play (Brooklyn Monarchs 2)

The remote fell from Andrea’s hand. “Oh, my God. What has he done?”

9

The raging cell phone beside his bed jerked Troy awake. He grabbed the cellular in the dark and blinked at the red liquid crystal display numbers on his radio alarm clock. Who the hell would be calling him at one-thirty in the morning?

“Hello?”

“You’re fired!”

Gerald’s bellow of fury slapped the cobwebs from Troy’s mind. He sat up, turned on the lamp beside his bed, and blinked to clear his

vision. Troy looked away from his bare-chested reflection in the oak-framed mirror on the wall across the room. “Gerry?”

“You’ll have a security escort when you arrive at the arena Tuesday. I’ll be waiting to watch you pack your belongings, then vacate the building.”

Troy clenched the phone with his right hand and clutched the lightweight green quilt pooling around his hips with his left. “On what grounds are you firing me?”

“Are you kidding me!? Was that your witless twin being interviewed on ESPN or were you having an out-of-body experience?”

“I know you’re the Insider.”

“Two words, Troy. Prove. It. You can’t, can you?”

Troy’s anger outpaced his nerves. “Can you deny encouraging the media to write damaging stories about the Monarchs?”

Gerald sneered down the phone line. “Despite your playing on a championship college team, I see I need to use simple concepts. I’m the boss. That means I don’t have to answer your questions.”

The fact that Gerald was familiar with any part of his resume took Troy off guard. He recovered quickly. “Your smear campaign against the team makes my job harder.”

“You don’t have any proof that I’m the Insider. But that didn’t stop you from going on television and accusing me of being the blogger. Your actions make my job harder.”

Troy frowned. “What job?”

“The job of being your boss. No employer wants a disloyal employee.”

Troy felt the sting of Gerald’s words. “You’re calling me disloyal? I’m working my ass off to protect the team. What do you gain by continuing to trash them?”

Silence was heavy on the other end of the line. “I’ll be waiting for you Tuesday. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

The line went dead. Troy’s body heated with fury beneath the quilt. He slammed the phone onto the table and scrubbed both hands over his face.

Gerald could deny his connection with the Monarchs Insider forever. But Troy wouldn’t buy it. If he wasn’t the blogger, he knew who was.

After almost four hours of tossing and turning, channel surfing, and working on the Monarchs’ ad campaign, Troy climbed out of bed. Around five in the morning, he got dressed and went for a run through downtown Cleveland. The chill mid-April air slapped the remaining fatigue from his mind. He ran until the sun came up around seven o’clock. He circled the same blocks over and over, chasing his own thoughts. He ran until his lungs hurt, his muscles screamed, and his body dripped with sweat.

Troy listened to his footsteps slapping against the asphalt as he turned toward the hotel. The echo of sound didn’t drown the questions chasing each other across his mind. Had Jaclyn done everything she could to get rid of Gerald? Why wouldn’t Gerald sell his shares in the franchise? What did the Monarchs Insider really want?

Why had he asked for the ESPN interview?

He raced back to the Hilton Hotel on Carnegie Avenue, showered, and changed. Troy tried to distract himself during the half-hour wait until eight o’clock. By then, Jaclyn should be awake. She was his last hope to get his job back. His only hope.

Troy checked his wristwatch for the hundredth time, then glanced at the clock on the hotel room’s wall. Both read minutes after eight a.m. Jaclyn and DeMarcus were early risers, and the Monarchs were scheduled to return to Brooklyn this afternoon. Still, he called Jaclyn’s cell phone instead of their hotel room. He didn’t want to disturb DeMarcus. The head coach may have decided to sleep in after the team’s second loss last night. The call connected after two rings.

“What were you thinking?” Jaclyn sounded wide awake. Her question as well as her tone told Troy she’d seen the interview.

He straightened his shoulders and jumped into his defense. “If Gerry isn’t the Insider, he knows who is.”

“And you know that how?” Jaclyn’s speech was precise. Her tone was clipped.