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“Which he gets if I don’t get the votes at the league meetings.”
“It’s why he and Jack are coming at you this hard.”
“I don’t get what’s in it for Jack. The Wolves are completely separate from the newspaper.”
“The person who told me this also told me that Danny and Jack might have some bigger play going with Gallo,” Ted said.
“Bigger than Gallo getting the San Francisco football team he’s lusted after for his entire lousy life?”
Ted got up off the sofa, went into the kitchen, came back a minute later with a glass of Scotch.
“I knew you were lying.”
I sighed. “Learned from the master.”
“I’ve told you everything I know. But I admit there’s a lot I don’t know.”
“Tell me about it.”
He smiled. He used to describe it as his cover-boy smile back when people still read magazines.
“You know you love me.”
“I just wish like hell that I liked you.”
He had only poured himself a small drink. I’d seen his car out front when I’d let him in. He drained the last of the Scotch and gave a quick look at his Omega watch—Omega being one of his endorsements.
“I have to be somewhere.”
“I’ll bet.”
“But before I go,” he said, ignoring that one, “I have to ask you something, because Iamon your side, whether you trust me or not.”
I don’t know who to trust anymore.
Ted said, “You see what they’re like. Why put yourself through this if you’re going to lose the team in the end? Why not quit now?”
“I don’t quit.”
“You quit on us.”
“No,” I said, “that was all you.”
He stood up. “For what it’s worth, you did a good thing with the coach.”
“I know.”
“Man, you’re tough.”
“I’ll get the votes,” I said.
“How do you figure?”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
When he was gone, I made a call that I’d hesitated to make before this.
“I’ve been expecting to hear from you,” he said, in a voice even more gravelly than I remembered. “You finally ready to fight?”
