Page 57 of The Tiger in the Sack

He had a big corkboard behind the desk too covered in index cards with players and positions and stats, clearly getting ready to do some trades. I squinted to read them in case it was someone I knew. The only name I quickly made out was Warner Bishop, Middle Lineman, Bruins. Good, we could use a strong middle lineman for me to butt heads with.

Coach sat down. Leaned back. Looked at us like he was deciding where to start.

“Tell me more about Monty,” he said. “Not the job, but what he was like when Jack Jackson was running things.”

That surprised me. I thought he’d want more info on Tiki.

Fox went first. “He was the building. Whatever Monty wanted, Monty got. He ran the whole football operation and Jack mostly stayed out of it.”

“He had opinions about everything,” I said. “Roster, schedule, press.”

Rutherford nodded and added, “You wanted something approved, you went to Monty first. Going to Jack without Monty on board was a waste of time.”

“And now?”

I thought about the conference room. About two seasons of small things that had never quite added up to anything I could name.

“Now he reports to Gabrielle,” I said. “And I’m not guessing when I say he hates it.”

“Not the job,” Fox said. “The person. Specifically the person.”

“Yep,” Rutherford rubbed his chin as if considering whether he should spill the tea. Coach made a go on motion giving him the go ahead. “He talks differently when she’s not in the room. About her decisions, about the direction of things, about—” He stopped.

“About women,” I finished.

Coach nodded, pulled open a desk drawer and pulled out a big chocolate chip cookie. I think they helped him think.

“He was fine under Jack,” Fox said. “Happy, even. The second Gabrielle took over, something curdled. Even when he agrees with her there’s this…” Fox made a gesture that didn’t have a word but everyone in the room understood.

“Underneath,” I said.

“Yeah. Underneath.”

Coach looked at the corkboard for a moment. Then picked up his phone.

“I’m calling Gabi in. She needs to hear she’s not imagining things.”

I opened my mouth.

The word was out before the thought finished forming. “Bring Clover.”

Fox turned his head exactly two degrees in my direction.

I looked at the corkboard. Very interesting corkboard. Lots of index cards.

Don’t be suspicious. Don’t be suspicious.

“She should be in this,” I said. “Tiki walked in and told her she was brave for existing and then told the whole room she was going to take over Clover’s project. If we’re building something, she needs to be in it.”

Coach looked at me for a beat. Then into the phone: “Gab, come down to my office. Grab Clover on the way.” A pause while she replied. “Yeah, bring snacks. I’ll make coffee.”

Gabrielle came through the door first.

She read the room in approximately one second. Coach behind his desk, Fox in the corner chair, me by the window with my coffee, and something in her posture dropped about three millimeters.

“Thank God,” she said. “I thought I was being paranoid.”

She wasn’t.