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Jaclyn shook her head. “Think of it as more of a friendly, nonthreatening version of Scared Straight.” She turned to Andrea. “Do you th
ink you could get him to meet you at that sandwich shop a couple of blocks from here?”
Andrea smiled. “What time?”
Jaclyn picked up the phone. “Let me make a call.”
Then she’d ask her head coach why she was the last to find out that someone was trying to destroy him and her team.
19
Jaclyn knocked twice on DeMarcus’s open door before crossing the threshold into his office. She closed the door quietly behind her. DeMarcus stood from his chair. The chivalrous gesture didn’t evoke the pleasure it had in the past. She was too angry.
Measured steps brought her to the opposite side of his desk. He had plenty of time to break the silence. His expression was more curious than concerned, but he never uttered a word.
She kept her voice low and slow. “When were you going to tell me Gerry is spreading lies in the media about you being a drug addict?”
Shock cleared his features. “Who told you?”
His words sucked the breath right out of her. She’d been right. Gerald Bimm was behind this latest assault on her team. And DeMarcus hadn’t warned her.
Why not?
She was looking at a stranger. “That’s your response? Didn’t it occur to you that I might find out from someone else if you didn’t tell me first?”
At this moment, it was a toss-up as to whom she was angriest with, Gerald for his petty vindictiveness or DeMarcus for his damning silence. She hated being caught off guard this way. DeMarcus knew that. Yet he’d put her in the position of having to cross examine him like a criminal defendant at court to get the information she needed to protect herself and her team. She hated that, too.
“I was going to tell you, Jack.” His coal black eyes apologized.
Jaclyn wasn’t ready to see it. “I know you’re not that crazy. That’s why I asked when you were going to tell me as opposed to were you going to tell me.”
“I was going to tell you today.”
She clenched her fists. “When, Marc? I need to know when. Practice starts in two hours. Were you going to tell me on the hour-long flight to D.C. tonight? Were you planning on texting me during the game tomorrow? When?”
DeMarcus’s gaze slid away from hers. Not a good sign. He was scaring her.
He ran his hand over his close-cropped hair. “I can’t give you an exact time. But I promise I was going to tell you today.”
Her knees gave out. Jaclyn dropped into the visitor’s chair behind her. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday after Andrea met with you?”
DeMarcus circled his table and took the chair on Jaclyn’s right. “I went to see Gerry after Andrea left. I told him, if he kept pushing the story, I would tell the media he planned to move the team.”
He seemed confident that his warning had convinced Gerald not to pursue the libelous piece. Based on Andrea’s update this morning, he was wrong.
Jaclyn gave him a flat look. “Your tactics didn’t work, Marc. The drug dealer called at least one other paper this morning.”
DeMarcus stood and paced the room. “Then I’ll have to make good on my own threat.”
Jaclyn tunneled her fingers into her hair. Her head was spinning. Andrea had told DeMarcus a drug dealer claimed to be his supplier. DeMarcus had exchanged threats with Gerald. All of this had happened yesterday without DeMarcus saying a peep to her.
She heard the blood rushing through her veins. “Why didn’t you tell me this last night?”
“You were having dinner with Violet, discussing the Empire. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Her temper snapped. Jaclyn shot out of the chair and stormed after him. “That’s absurd. Gerry’s shopping a story—a lie!—that will not only ruin your reputation but also damage my team. Trust me, dinner and Vi would have waited.”
DeMarcus turned to face her. “I was handling the situation.”
