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DeMarcus rubbed his forehead. “That depends on how he plays. I won’t risk the playoffs to spare his feelings.”
The coach was right. They had to protect the team. But Barron was part of that team. Troy would make sure it stayed that way.
Andrea chose one of the tables in the front section of the coffee shop. Gerald settled into the cracked, red vinyl chair across from her. The display of fresh pastries whispered her name. Andrea forced her gaze away, resisting temptation. She was getting better at that.
She sipped her coffee. It was strong, but anything was better than that battery acid that passed for coffee in the newspaper’s community kitchen.
Gerald lowered his mug. He seemed even less comfortable with these surroundings than the New York Sports office. “I enjoyed your article on Barron Douglas.”
What is he up to? It didn’t bode well for the franchise that Gerald and Troy had very different reactions to the same story. “What did you like about it?”
“It’s about time someone held Barron accountable for his actions.” Gerald sounded ready to do a campaign stump speech on morality.
Andrea angled her head. “What’s stopping you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You co-own the team. Why don’t you hold Barron accountable?”
Gerald’s gaze slid away from hers. “Jackie protects him.”
Andrea didn’t buy that, and not just because Gerald couldn’t look at her as he made the claim. “You were the one who arranged the Monarchs’ trade for Barron.”
Gerald shrugged. “I thought the coach at the time could handle him.”
Andrea remembered the Monarchs’ former coach. Everyone had liked and respected him. Gerald had fired him after one season. Barron had stayed. “You made Barron captain, although that had been Warrick Evans’s role for almost ten years.”
“I thought the responsibility would mature him.”
“You have an answer for everything.” Andrea sipped more coffee as she tried to discern truth from lie in Gerald’s eyes.
“That’s usually the case when you’re telling the truth.”
Was he telling the truth? Probably not.
Gerald’s expression was earnest. “I want you to keep the pressure on Barron and the rest of the team.”
Andrea blinked. Troy had demanded she write only glowing articles about the Monarchs. Gerald wanted her to expose the players’ failings. It was as though they represented rival teams. The only thing both men shared was the mistaken idea they could tell her how to do her job.
She lowered her mug. The table rocked on uneven legs as she braced her forearms on its black-and-white tile surface. “What are you doing, Gerry?”
“As general manager, everything has to go through Jackie. But she’s too soft on the players.” He leaned toward her. “I want you to help me improve the team’s reputation.”
“Why the sudden concern for the team’s image? You never cared before.”
He gave her a sincere look she didn’t buy for a New York minute. “I want to polish the team’s image. I don’t want to be associated with the bad boys of Brooklyn anymore.”
Andrea stilled. Gerald had quoted a headline from an article about the Monarchs that had appeared in this morning’s New York Horn. Had he planted the story? “You tried to keep the Monarchs out of the playoffs and were campaigning to move the team out of Brooklyn. I have a hard time believing you’re this upset over the team’s bad image.”
Gerald’s features tightened. “The Monarchs are in the playoffs, and they’re staying in Brooklyn.”
Andrea suppressed a grin. “Not by your choice. Jackie Jones co-owns the Empire Arena now. She won’t let you break the Monarchs’ lifetime contract to play there.”
“Believe what you like.”
She’d hit a nerve. Andrea ignored his spark of temper. “Why would you want to work with me? Did you forget the article I wrote exposing your plan to move the team?”
Gerald’s grunt of laughter sounded forced. “Hardly. But I’m willing to put that behind us if you’ll help me monitor the team.”
