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The knock on his open door put a break on his rising temper. He looked up from his desk and found Constance smiling in his doorway.
She crossed his threshold. “Welcome back, Mr. Marshall.”
Troy put down the pen he was using to update the advertising schedule and stood. “I thought we’d agreed on Troy.” He gestured toward the three black guest chairs in front of his desk.
“Troy.” Constance settled into one of the cushioned seats. “Faith, Tiffany, and I watched the game Saturday night. It was so exciting.”
Troy sat again. “The Monarchs defied the odds when they won the Cavs series.”
Constance’s gaze dropped to his desk. Her glow faded. “You’re updating the Monarchs’ new image campaign.”
“We’ve missed several deadlines.”
Constance gave him an earnest look. “I’m really sorry about that, Mr.—Troy. I didn’t think you’d like the changes Mr. Bimm made to the design, so I brought the files to Ms. Jones. She agreed that the redesigns weren’t any good.”
Troy picked up the customer order form for one of the ad changes Gerald had made. “You’re right. We can’t announce ‘The Monarchs Return’ with a quarter-page, black-and-white ad. That’s not the tone we’re looking for.”
Constance relaxed. “I thought it would be better to run the ads late. They say you only get one chance to make a good first impression.”
What happened to the timid woman he’d hired? Constance had changed a lot in the three weeks since he’d met her. The woman sitting before him was much more relaxed and, more important, confident.
“You made the right call, Connie. Thank you.”
Constance’s cheeks bloomed with color. “Thank you, Mr.—Troy.” She gestured toward the folder on his desk. “Would you like me to call the publications to reschedule the ads?”
Troy collected the ad forms. “Not yet.” He was still pissed over Gerald’s sabotage, but Constance was correct. He only had one chance to launch this campaign. It had to be right. “I’m going to review the ad dates again. Once I’m done, I’d like you to contact the publications.”
“Of course. Did you want me to put together a list of giveaways for—”
Another knock on his door interrupted them. Warrick Evans gave him a mock scowl. “Vacation time’s over, slacker. Get to work.”
Constance’s surprised laughter made Troy’s lips twitch. He stood as he laughingly admonished. “Don’t encourage him.”
“I don’t need encouragement.” Warrick strode into Troy’s office with his hand outstretched. “Welcome home, man. Good to see you.”
Troy noted the point guard was wearing a black T-shirt with his baggy black shorts. Warrick was back on the starting lineup. What did that mean for Barron?
“Thanks, Rick.” Troy shook the guard’s hand and slapped him on the back. “It’s good to be home. Congratulations again on Saturday night’s win.”
Warrick stepped back. “So, what’s the word on Gerry?”
Constance stood. “I’d better get to work.”
Warrick turned to her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Troy spoke at the same time. “There’s no need to leave. You can hear this, too. The NBA has barred Gerry from team offices and all NBA arenas, pending an investigation into the blackmail allegations.”
Warrick frowned. “But Andrea’s story said Gerry’s conversation with Otto had been recorded.”
Troy slid his hands into the front pockets of his pants. “The commissioner still wants to talk to Gerry and Otto personally.”
Warrick shrugged. “There’s no way Gerry can explain that recording. This is probably a formality.”
Constance nodded. “And hopefully, it won’t take too long.”
Troy looked at Warrick. “In the meantime, I hope it’s not a distraction to the team.”
Warrick shook his head. “Stop worrying, man. We’ve got this.”
