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Anger replaced shock. “What are you talking about?”
Andrea opened her reporter’s notepad. “I got a call from someone claiming to be your—and I quote—personal drug supplier.”
“What?” DeMarcus was repeating himself, but he couldn’t seem to think.
“He offered me an exclusive interview about your addiction to coke and heroine. He claimed he’s been your supplier since high school.”
DeMarcus fisted his hands on his desk. Living in the public spotlight, he knew people would try to tarnish his image. Competitors attempted to pull him into public feuds. Women claimed to be in a relationship with him. And so-called friends tried to sell his life story or get him to invest in their up-and-coming-can’t-miss business deals, complete with shady front men. He’d avoided the worst of that by remembering the life lessons his parents had taught him and reminding himself that basketball was his job. But now he was being pulled into the nightmare. Who was targeting him and why?
Gerald.
Memory crashed into him like an ice-cold Atlantic Ocean wave.
DeMarcus reminded himself to breathe. “What did you say?”
Andrea searched his features. “I told him I’d get back to him. He said if I kept him waiting too long, he’d go to another paper.”
Thoughts, questions and obscenities circled DeMarcus’s mind with near warp speed. In self-defense, he grabbed one. “Why didn’t you interview him?”
The intensity in Andrea’s stare made him uneasy. What was she looking for and what did she find? He knew she’d found something. Andrea Benson was a very smart person.
“I don’t believe him.”
DeMarcus’s shoulders relaxed. It was a ridiculous reaction. He knew he wasn’t addicted to drugs. He’d never even tried them. Why was it important what other people thought of him? He didn’t know why he cared; he just did.
He sat back and considered the reporter, who didn’t seem as much like the enemy anymore. “Why don’t you believe him?”
“I know what addiction looks and acts like. It doesn’t look or act like you. And I don’t think you would have made it into the NBA, much less have been so successful, if you’d been addicted to hard drugs.”
“Especially since the NBA has strict drug-testing policies.”
“There is that.”
Silence extended while they took each other’s measure. DeMarcus checked his watch, but was too distracted to register the time. “Have I answered your question?”
“The first one. I still have two more.”
DeMarcus had never enjoyed media interviews, and this one was turning out to be the worst. “What are they?”
“W
ho’s behind this fake story and why is he trying to ruin your image?”
DeMarcus was afraid Andrea would realize everything if he breathed.
Gerald had threatened to destroy DeMarcus’s reputation if the Monarchs continued to win. He hadn’t believed the franchise partner would go through with it. However, now that the team had a winning record, rumors were linking him to drugs. A coincidence? He didn’t think so.
DeMarcus held the reporter’s gaze. “I don’t know.”
Andrea gave him another intense scrutiny. “I don’t believe you.”
He’d have to brazen it out. “Why not?”
“A better question is, why are you protecting someone who’s trying to hurt you?”
“I’m not protecting anyone.”
“Then why won’t you give me a name?”
