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His father’s response was stronger. “Are you kidding me?”
Troy pushed his fisted right hand into the front pockets of his sweatpants. “Dad, I wanted to—”
Charles interrupted again. “What were you thinking?”
“That Gerry is a coward who hides behind other people.” Troy raised his voice to be heard above his father’s condemnation. “I thought if I exposed him, he wouldn’t be able to hurt the team.”
“But you were wrong and now you’re out of a job.” Charles’s pronouncement was another punch in the gut.
“Charles.” Danielle’s exclamation demanded attention. “His intention was in the right place. He was trying to help his company.”
“His intensions are always in the right place.” His father was implacable. “His actions are the problem. He’s still behaving like an unruly teenager.”
Troy stiffened, hearing the reference to his failed marriage in his father’s words. “Calling out Gerry was a risk I was willing to take.”
“But you didn’t have to.” Charles paused as though searching for patience. “You don’t think things through. Your impulses were great when you were a kid working on your basketball skills, stealing passes and making rebounds. But you’re an adult. Be responsible.”
“This isn’t the time for this lecture, Charlie.” Danielle’s tone was a warning. “Troy, there’s no need to limit your job search. Why don’t you come home?”
Because I don’t want to be within easy access of Dad’s lectures. “Mom, this isn’t over.”
Charles’s voice sharpened. “What does that mean?”
“It means I want my job back.” Troy paced back to his armchair.
“How are you going to do that if Gerry’s still there?”
Troy dropped into the chair. Yes, how? “I’m working on that.”
“Congratulations on exposing the Insider, Benson.” Jenna Madison shifted in her seat at the Empire Arena Sunday night.
Andrea hesitated as she made her way to the empty seat beside Frederick Pritchard. Jenna’s warm greeting was still unfamiliar to her. “Thanks.”
Game four of the Cleveland Cavaliers series against the Brooklyn Monarchs was less than an hour away. The seats were filling quickly. Tonight, the Monarchs would either win or go home. Kevin Rudolf’s “I Made It” filled the arena with a hopeful note.
Andrea unpacked her laptop. The smell of the chicken strips, hot dogs, and pretzels fans purchased from the concession stands overlaid the arena’s basic gym scent.
Sean Wolf leaned forward. “Yeah. How’d you know it was Mindy Sneal?”
Andrea glanced at the Post reporter as she set up her laptop. “Troy’s divorce was the subject of her last post.”
Jenna propped her elbows on the media desk. “I didn’t know Troy’d been married. Did you?”
Andrea ignored the question. She powered her computer, trying not to think about the woman who’d been Troy’s first wife and whose lies had left permanent scars. “I knew Mindy was one of the few people who’d learned of it. As I wrote in my article, she admitted to being the anonymous blogger.” Her colleagues didn’t need to know about Troy’s involvement.
Jenna inclined her head. “You’re good.”
“Or lucky.” Sean tapped his pen against the long laminate desk.
Jenna looked at Sean. “You would need luck. Other
people have talent.” She returned her attention to Andrea without giving Sean a chance to respond. “Your phone will be ringing off the hook with other newspapers interested in adding you to their staff.”
Andrea could only stare at Jenna. It had been a long time since the other reporters had held a conversation with her. Now it seemed as though the chilly period of their relationship was over. The knot of nerves in her stomach relaxed.
Andrea tried a smile. “I hope you’re right. I could use some good news.”
Frederick Pritchard glanced at her before returning to his Internet searches. “Is it true that Sports is going under?”
