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Jaclyn hesitated. “Jack?”
“It suits you, don’t you think?”
“No. I don’t.”
He chucked a low, wicked sound that did things to her. “I do.” He ended the call.
Jaclyn glanced down at her B-cups. “Not hardly.”
She touched her cellular screen to disconnect the call. Jaclyn closed her eyes. She wasn’t alone anymore. Someone else was willing to help keep her grandfather’s dream alive. Now, she needed to keep her end of the bargain and make sure Gerald and Albert didn’t stand in their way.
6
“I convinced Marc Guinn to stay on as head coach. His only requirement is that we alter his contract term to a one-year commitment.” Jaclyn shifted forward in the guest chair opposite Gerald Bimm’s desk—soon to be her desk—Wednesday morning. She gave him the revised contract. DeMarcus had already e-mailed his approval. They were both early risers.
Gerald’s incredulous look passed from the contract lying on his desk to Jaclyn and back. “How did you change his mind?”
Jaclyn settled into the green-cushioned chair and crossed her legs. “A better question is, why didn’t you contact me as soon as Marc resigned?”
Gerald scanned the first two pages of the five-page document. “I knew you hadn’t wanted him in the first place.”
Jaclyn gripped the arms of her chair but kept her voice cool. “The regular season starts in a month, Gerry. The team needs a head coach.”
Gerald shrugged as he finished scanning the contract. “Oscar isn’t doing a bad job as interim.”
The careless words put Jaclyn’s teeth on edge. “Oscar Clemente is a good offensive strategist for the Monarchs and has been for well over a decade. But he knows he doesn’t have the strategic mind a head coach needs.”
“Well, you’ve got Marc back.” Gerald smirked. “It seems like the only thing that changed is the length of the contract.”
“I’ll stop by Tipton’s Fashionwear to get Bert’s signature this afternoon.”
Gerald folded the document to the final page and signed his name with a flourish. “We’re back in business.” He handed the papers to Jaclyn.
Jaclyn checked to make sure Gerald had both signed and printed his name. “Almost.”
He grinned, satisfied and confident. “What else can I do for you?”
Jaclyn smoothed the hot pink silk skirt over her knee. Her gaze roamed the office before coming back to him. Gerald had removed everything her grandfather had displayed when this office had belonged to him. Nothing remained of Franklin Jones—or the Monarchs. “I’m ready to assume my position as Monarchs general manager.”
“That’s wonderful, Jackie. How soon were you planning on starting?” Gerald’s lips curved into a stiff smile. His eyes looked through her.
Jaclyn sensed his mind churning. What was he up to?
“Now. Althea Gentry, my executive assistant at Jonas and Prather, has already sent an e-mail to the organization announcing the management change.”
Was that panic that flashed in Gerald’s brown eyes? He spun his red leather throne toward his computer monitor. A few key strokes called up his e-mail system. Jaclyn couldn’t see his messages, but she could read his reaction. Gerald was unhappy.
The traitor wheeled his chair to face her again. His eyes were stormy. “This announcement is sudden, Jackie. I wish you’d given me the courtesy of an advance notice.”
Was he kidding? “Like the advance notice you gave me before you contacted the Empire owners’ lawyers to discuss breaking the contract?” Jaclyn smacked her right palm against her forehead. “Oh, that’s right. You didn’t notify me in advance. I found out from the lawyers.”
Gerald narrowed his eyes. “Is that what this is about? Revenge? That’s petty, Jackie.”
“This has nothing to do with revenge. I’m trying to save the organization.”
“By going behind my back and having your law firm assistant e-mail a message about the management change? Nessa could have sent the announcement. You didn’t have to go outside of the organization.”
“As your assistant, Nessa’s loyalty is to you. That’s one of the reasons Althea will work with me. I need someone whose loyalty won’t be torn.”
