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Jaclyn leaned into her desk. “Andrea has proven herself to be a good ally. We’re going to need one or two of those when Gerry shops his stories.”
“Considering Gerry’s track record with planting fake stories, I don’t think a lot of newspapers will jump at his bait.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Troy’s stomach muscles knotted. Was his boss losing confidence in him? “I have ten years’ experience working with the media. Four of those years are with this organization. My decision to deny reporters unofficial access to the team is based on that experience.”
Jaclyn held his gaze for a long moment. Troy could feel her mulling over his words. He returned her regard without expression. But inside, he worried. What would he do, what would it mean, if she challenged his decision?
Finally, she nodded. “All right. My grandfather made you our V.P. of media and marketing for a reason. I’ll support your decision.”
Troy relaxed. “Thank you.”
Jaclyn lifted her pen, rolling it between the thumb and index finger of her right hand. “But I hope your decision is based on your professional concern for the team and not because you’re trying to protect a specific player.”
His relief hadn’t lasted long. “What do you mean?”
Jaclyn lowered her pen. “Marc told me Barron stormed out of practice this morning in the middle of your speech to the team. You’re angry with Andrea because of her article in today’s paper. Am I reading too much into the situation or not enough?”
Troy held Jaclyn’s gaze. “This is about the team, not just Barron.”
At least that’s what he kept telling himself. Barron was a Monarch. He had to protect Barron to protect the team.
Jaclyn searched his eyes. “I hope so. We both know that no one player is more important than the team.”
Troy walked to the door. Jaclyn was right. Every athlete knew no player was above the team. But the Monarchs were more than a team. They were a family. And when one family member was in trouble, everyone stuck together. Just because his family hadn’t stood with him when he’d been in trouble doesn’t mean it wasn’t supposed to be that way.
Later Thursday afternoon, Troy strode into the Monarchs’ practice facility, slapping a computer printout against his right thigh. It was almost two o’clock. Practice had officially ended about twenty minutes ago. But Troy knew players stayed hours later for additional practice and training.
He found Jamal, his target, taking shots at one of the twelve nets suspended around the facility’s perimeter. The rookie stole frequent looks at Warrick, who practiced a couple of baskets away.
Troy stopped almost on top of the young shooting guard. “I asked the team not to talk to the press.”
Jamal adjusted his focus from the net to Troy. “I know. I was there.”
“Then why did you talk to a Horn columnist?”
Jamal turned away from the basket and gave Troy his full attention. “I never spoke to any reporters or columnists or whatever. Who said I did?”
Troy sensed the other man’s confusion. Had Jamal thought Troy wouldn’t find out? He gave the rookie the folded printout of the Monarchs Insider, the New York Horn’s new online blog.
Jamal scanned the sheet of paper. His eyes widened. “Who the hell is the Monarchs Insider? The guy doesn’t even use a name.”
“You tell me.” Troy hooked his hands on his hips. Jamal seemed genuinely surprised. But how could he be? The blogger had quoted him in the debut post.
“I’ve never met the guy.” As irritated as Jamal sounded, he had a long way to go to match Troy’s anger.
“You wouldn’t have to meet him to speak with him.”
Jamal narrowed his gaze. “I’ve never spoken to him, either. I don’t know this guy.”
Troy gestured toward the sheet Jamal was crumpling in his fist. “He quotes you in his article.”
“Listen, man, you told us not to talk to the press. I don’t know where this dude gets off saying I spoke to him. I didn’t.” Jamal was almost shouting.
“What’s the problem?” Warrick’s question interrupted their exchange.
Troy turned to the veteran shooting guard. “I got a Google Alert on an interview Jamal gave to a new online sports blogger with the Horn.”
