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Jamal hadn’t taken even one pass in an NBA game but was declaring himself a starter. They’d have something to talk about if he’d been a top draft pick. The muscles in DeMarcus’s shoulders bunched. He scanned the faces of the coaches, players and trainers observing the meeting. They regarded the brash shooting guard with either disbelief or disinterest.
“Sit down, rookie.” DeMarcus watched the younger man hesitate before complying. “You don’t claim a starting position. You earn it.” He repositioned his gaze to the twelve other men who finally seemed to hear his words. “That’s right. You may have started last season. But if you want to start this season, you’ll have to earn it. And we’re going to the finals, Monarchs. We’re going to play for the championship. If you aren’t willing to put in the work, you can ride the bench.”
They all thought he’d lost his mind. DeMarcus could tell by the looks on their faces. Maybe he had. He’d do whatever it took to bring his father the trophy. This was about more than his competitive drive. It was about more than his ego. It was about finally repaying his parents for everything they’d sacrificed for him. Thanks to his parents, he’d proven himself a winner. He wasn’t going to let this team make a loser out of him.
With his speech this morning, he’d set the course for them. But, to reach their destination, the coaches and players would have to row together. Right now, he couldn’t see any of them picking up an oar.
If she could just ingest this cup of coffee, she’d make it through this Friday morning. She was sure of it. Jaclyn inhaled deeply as she filled her official Brooklyn Monarchs mug from the coffeepot in the franchise’s kitchen.
The steam warmed her face. She took a long drink of the sweet, black beverage, then sighed. “Saved.”
“Another late night?”
Jaclyn turned toward her assistant’s voice. Althea Gentry looked neat and efficient in her chocolate coat dress. A gold, flower-shaped brooch pinned the red and brown checked scarf to her shoulder.
Jaclyn rested her hips against the kitchen counter and cradled her Cup o’Joe protectively in her palms. “I’m prepared for a series of them while I’m juggling my general manager responsibilities and wrapping up the client files for J and P.”
Althea’s sharp, black eyes darkened with worry. Her dark brown hair swung around her jawline as she shook her head. “I wish you’d waited the two weeks before taking your position with the Monarchs. It’s too hard on you, doing two demanding jobs at once.”
Truer words may never have been spoken. Jaclyn felt as though she’d been beaten like a rug and thrown into the street.
She straightened from the counter and wrapped her free arm around the much shorter woman’s shoulders and led her from the kitchen. “Stop nagging. You know we talked about this. Gerry has done enough damage to the team already. More than enough. I couldn’t wait two more weeks before stopping him.”
“And how much good are you going to be either here or for Jonas and Prather with only two hours of sleep each night?” Althea’s voice was heavy with concern.
“It’s three hours. And this schedule won’t last forever. All of my client files will be transferred by late next week. How are you managing the transition?”
“I’m fine. In fact, I can help you reassign your client files.”
Jaclyn stopped, smiling at the twenty-something administrative assistant walking their way. “Hi, Nessa. How are you?”
Vanessa Klayer gave them a broad smile though her dark eyes remained wary. “Good morning, Ms. Jones.”
Jaclyn dropped her arm from Althea’s shoulders. “When did I become Ms. Jones? We’ve known each other since you started working here four years ago.”
Vanessa’s shoulders dropped and her smile relaxed. “I’m sorry, Jackie, I wasn’t sure how you wanted us to address you.”
Jaclyn swallowed more coffee. “The only thing that’s changed is that I’m the general manager now, not my grandfather. And he asked everyone to call him Frank.” She nodded toward her assistant. “Vanessa Klayer, I’d like you to meet Althea Gentry. Althea and I worked together at Jonas and Prather, my old law firm.”
Vanessa’s demeanor cooled as she extended her right hand. “Oh, you’re my replacement.”
“No, she isn’t.” Jaclyn kept her voice casual as she corrected Vanessa. “You’re Gerry’s assistant. Althea’s mine.”
Vanessa’s gaze shifted between Jaclyn and Althea. “Oh, I see.”
Jaclyn hoped the younger woman did in fact see. “By the way, Nessa, who do the Monarchs play for the first game of the preseason?”
Vanessa’s eyes widened. “I don’t know, but I can find out for you.”
“That’s OK. It’s the Washington Wizards. I hope you watch the game.” Jaclyn walked on.
Althea caught up with her. “What was that all about?”
“My grandfather made sure everyone knew the Monarchs’ schedule. He’s only been gone two seasons, but I bet Nessa’s not the only one who couldn’t name the team’s first preseason opponent. She probably doesn’t know which college our draft pick, Jamal Ward, attended, either.”
Althea frowned. “I thought you didn’t want that player.”
“That’s a different story.” Jaclyn marched into her office and across the silver carpet. She settled into her ergonomically correct, black executive chair. She’d had Facilities remove Gerald’s red throne. “I want the entire franchise to memorize the Monarchs’ schedule. The games aren’t just about the players. Everyone should support the team.”
