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Andrea’s scrutiny shifted to Warrick Evans. The shooting guard had been riding the bench for the whole game. That wasn’t like him. Usually, he ran up and down the sideline, calling encouragement to his teammates. Tonight, he looked as though he’d lost his best friend. The Monarchs Insider ’s attack on Warrick’s wife was responsible for that. She was certain of it.
With seconds remaining to the first half, Andrea hustled down the eight rows to the court level, hoping to intercept DeMarcus on his way to the locker room at halftime. She’d normally wait for the postgame news conference. But Andrea thought she’d have a better chance of getting a candid response from him away from other reporters. She wove through the crowds on their way to the restrooms or the food courts. Several traveling Monarchs fans groused about returning to their hotels. They’d rather leave at the half than watch their team embarrass them.
Andrea arrived near the entrance to the locker room tunnel just as the buzzer sounded the start of the halftime break. She looked up and saw Troy approaching her. The Monarchs’ ever-vigilant protector. She wished she’d waited for the postgame conference after all.
Troy ignored the groupies vying for his attention. Curious stares and a few daggers were aimed her way. His wicked smile had the power to distract and disarm. Andrea fought to stay focused.
“Looking for me?” This playful side was another weapon in his arsenal.
“You know I’m not.”
“My loss.” His eyes danced with humor.
Their exchange set off a chorus of pleas from the other women who promised they’d treat him better. Andrea ignored them. She scanned the crowd for DeMarcus.
Troy moved closer to her. “What are you going to ask him?”
What was the point in asking, “Him who?” They both knew she was waiting for DeMarcus.
“You’ll see.” She echoed his response to her question about his unmasking the Monarchs Insider.
Troy’s bedroom eyes twinkled. By the time Andrea pulled away from his gaze, DeMarcus had appeared. She stepped into his path. “Coach, Barron Douglas looked tired and sluggish during the first half. Are you going to bench him and put Rick Evans in?”
DeMarcus looked frustrated. “I’ll have to see how Barron starts the first half.”
“What are you going to do about the rumors of his late-nightclubbing?”
Anger snapped in DeMarcus’s eyes. He looked at Troy before responding to Andrea’s question. “You mean that blogger? I’m not going to let a gossip columnist tell me how to coach my team. Excuse me.”
Andrea stepped aside so DeMarcus could join his players. The former NBA superstar-turned-head-coach disappeared into Vom Two, the tunnel leading to the visiting team’s locker room.
“Probably not the quote you were looking for.” Troy’s tone was dry.
Andrea studied his features. “I don’t think it was the response you wanted, either.”
Troy shrugged. “What else could he say? His job is to coach the team. Media is my job.”
Andrea briefly closed her eyes, almost weary with frustration. Everyone was in denial. “Locking the players away from the media isn’t going to stop Barron’s drinking. And now he’s taking other players with him.”
“They went to that club to get Barron.”
Andrea had thought as much. “Is that going to be the pattern for the rest of the play-off series? Players scouring clubs the night before every game looking for Barron?”
“Barron is a Monarch. We’ll worry about how many clubs we have to search to find him.” There was tension in Troy’s voice. How much pressure was he under because of the Monarchs Insider blog, and how was he dealing with the stress?
“And when will you start helping him?” She didn’t wait for a response. What was the point?
Andrea dove back into the arena crowd. The smell of French fries, chicken nuggets, and hot dogs soaking the arena made her mouth water. Reaching the media section, Andrea pulled up short at the sight of a familiar face. “Mindy?”
“Hello, Andy.” Troy’s former secretary didn’t seem surprised to see her.
“It’s Andrea.” She stepped closer to the tall, slender woman to get out of the crowd’s way.
Mindy Sneal pulled her well-manicured, black-tipped nails through her thick auburn hair. “Oh. Is Troy the only one who can call you that?”
Andrea narrowed her gaze. Was the other woman deliberately antagonizing her? “He’s the only one who won’t stop calling me that. I thought you no longer worked for the Monarchs.”
