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Authors: Regina Hart

Fast Break (21 page)

BOOK: Fast Break
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An older gentleman with a receding hairline stood toward the front of the room. “Are you standing by The Mighty Guinn because the rumors aren't true or because you're lovers?”
Jaclyn would have been stupid if she hadn't seen that question coming. And Jaclyn wasn't stupid. “I don't sleep with drug addicts. It's a personal preference.” She surveyed the rest of the room. “Anything else?”
A petite young woman toward the back of the room shouted to be heard. “Where's DeMarcus Guinn now?”
Jaclyn smiled. The question made it seem as though DeMarcus was a fugitive from the law. “He's practicing with the team. They're getting ready for tomorrow night's Wizards game.”
A lanky young man in the front left corner of the room stood. “How did this rumor get started?”
Jaclyn shrugged. “How does any rumor get started? That's something we're looking into now.”
An older man with a ruddy complexion used the back of Andrea's chair to push himself to his feet. “Ms. Jones, how will this rumor affect your season?”
Jaclyn didn't see a link between the Monarchs' season and DeMarcus not being addicted to drugs, but this sports reporter apparently did. “As you know, Coach Guinn has given us our first winning record in three seasons, and we have realistic hopes of making it to the play-offs.”
An older woman in the center of the room waved her hands frantically. “How will this rumor affect your relationship?”
Jaclyn chose to misunderstand the reporter's angle. “Coach Guinn and I have a strong working relationship. The rumor won't have any affect on it.”
The older woman persisted. “How will it affect your
personal
relationship?”
Jaclyn gave the reporter a steely stare. “My personal relationships aren't open for public discussion.” She again scanned the room. “We have time for one last question.”
Andrea stood in response to the invitation. Jaclyn blinked. Considering she'd promised the reporter an exclusive interview later that afternoon, she hadn't thought Andrea would have any questions for the press conference.
She faced the other woman. “Yes, Andrea?”
Andrea held her pen poised above her reporter's notebook. “Ms. Jones, what do you think Franklin Jones's reaction would be to this situation?”
Jaclyn's eyes stung at the thought of her grandfather and the shambles she'd made of his legacy. Troy stepped closer, putting his hand on the back of Jaclyn's shoulder.
She blinked several times and cleared her throat before leaning closer to the mic. “My grandfather would be devastated that someone was spreading lies against a member of his team, especially a lie involving drugs. He helped found this franchise to be a positive presence in the community. That's what we've been for the past fifty-five years, and that's what we'll continue to be for many decades to come.”
 
 
“Why would you not tell Jackie that Gerry was blackmailing you?” Troy stood in DeMarcus's doorway, one shoulder propped against the threshold. The media executive looked like he'd just finished a hard
Gentlemen's Quarterly
photo session. His tie was askew and he'd rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.
DeMarcus dropped the Washington Wizards scouting reports he'd been trying to study onto his desk and sat back in his chair. “Because I'm an idiot.”
Troy crossed into his office. “You won't get an argument from me. But what were you thinking, really?”
DeMarcus rubbed his eyes with the fingers of his right hand. How many times was he going to have to explain just how big of a fool he'd been? “Jack has enough problems to deal with. I thought I could handle this one on my own.”
Troy lowered himself into one of the guest chairs in front of DeMarcus's desk. “But you were wrong.”
DeMarcus didn't have much patience left. Troy's line of questioning was working the last of it. “Spectacularly wrong. What's your point?”
“My point is, you tried to play the Lone Ranger and face the bad guys by yourself. If Andy hadn't contacted me this morning, the situation would have gotten worse.”
DeMarcus had never seen Troy so serious. He acted as though DeMarcus had personally wronged him. “Jack already gave me this lecture.”
And so had my father.
“And now you're hearing it from me.” Troy balanced his elbows on the arms of the chair. “The team is depending on Jackie to keep us in the Empire. If Gerry succeeds in moving the Monarchs out of Brooklyn, a lot of us will be out of a job.”
It was hard to hear the negative impact his actions—or inactions—had on other people. “I'm sorry.”
Troy sighed, a mixture of exasperation and irritation. “Just don't go off on your own again. The front office needs at least the same level of communication you use on the court.”
DeMarcus stared at the surface of his desk. Instead of the clutter of papers, he saw again Jaclyn's face as she told him good-bye. “Trust me, Troy. I've learned my lesson.”
Troy settled back into the chair. “This is more than a job. This place is like a family.”
“I can tell. It shows in the way people care about each other and talk to each other.” DeMarcus shook off his melancholy. “How did the press conference go?”
“It was pretty rough.” Troy gave him a pointed look. “They asked a lot of questions about her relationship with you.”
DeMarcus's shoulders and back tensed. “I knew I should have been there with her.”
“Jackie was right to keep you away. The media would have torn you apart.”
He understood the professional reasons for excluding him from the press conference. But, personally, he'd wanted to support Jaclyn as well as shoulder his share of the blame. And crossing the line between the personal and professional is what started this problem in the first place. “What did they want to know about Jack and me?”
“They wanted to know whether the rumors would affect your relationship.” Troy rested his right ankle on his left knee. “Jackie told them the rumors wouldn't have any impact on your professional relationship. She refused to answer personal questions.”
“I see.” DeMarcus stood to pace his office. He felt Troy's eyes boring into his back.
“She broke up with you.”
DeMarcus felt the pain in his heart. He'd known it would hurt, but not this much. “She did.”
“You should have seen that coming.”
“I know, Troy. But this is worse.” DeMarcus flexed his shoulders, trying to ease the tension in his back. “She doesn't think I can separate our personal and professional lives.”
“She's right. You didn't tell her what Gerry was doing because you wanted to protect her. You wouldn't have wanted to protect Donnie Walsh.”
He shouldn't have been surprised that Jaclyn and Troy had used the same example of the Knicks owner, but he was. “She also doesn't trust me anymore.”
“Why not?” Troy sounded confused.
Outside his window, DeMarcus could see the marina. “Because she thinks I'm keeping secrets from her.”
“You are. You should have told her right away that Gerry was blackmailing you.”
DeMarcus turned to face Troy. “I was afraid to tell her about Gerry's threats because I was afraid to lose her. She found out from someone else and I lost her.”
“Classic.”
“Oscar was right.” DeMarcus walked back to his desk.
“About what?”
“Sometimes you have to risk losing if you want to win.”
Troy shook his head with a grin. “Who would have thought that grouchy old guy would be so wise in matters of the heart?”
“We were talking about the season. But I should have listened to him.” DeMarcus sat, propping his right ankle on his left knee.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I'm going to prove that I can keep our personal and professional relationships separate.”
“How?
DeMarcus considered the media executive's question for several moments. “I don't know.”
20
“Well played, Jackie.” Gerald's voice came over her office phone line less than an hour after the ten o'clock press conference ended. His tone made the words sound more like an insult than a compliment.
“What is it, Gerry? I'm kind of busy getting ready for the trip to D.C.” Jaclyn worked her computer's mouse. She selected commands that sent to the printer the documents she wanted to review during the trip.
“Why are you going to Washington?” Gerald's confusion seemed genuine.
Jaclyn almost dropped the phone. “The Monarchs are playing the Wizards tomorrow night.” Was she more surprised or angry that Gerald wasn't aware of the team's schedule? “It wouldn't hurt you to post a copy of the Monarchs' season schedule on your refrigerator.”
“I heard you held a press conference to dispel the rumors that our Golden Boy is a drug addict.”
“Did your office spy tell you all about it?” Jaclyn reached for the printer beside her computer monitor. She retrieved the first set of documents and stapled the pages together.
“I'm an equal partner in the franchise. You should have told me you were calling a press conference. I had a right to be there.”
Jaclyn almost choked. He was the reason she had to call a press conference, and he wanted to know why he hadn't been invited? “First of all, Gerry, Marc Guinn isn't a boy. He's a man. Second, whoever started this rumor is a petty, vindictive little worm. Do you have any idea who it might be?”
“Haven't you heard, Jackie? Where there's smoke, there's always fire. Maybe Marc
is
addicted to drugs.” Gerald sounded as though he relished the accusation.
“You and I both know Marc has never done drugs. We did a thorough background check and testing before we hired him.” Jaclyn took another document from the printer and stapled it.
“And you don't sleep with drug addicts.” Gerald's tone was dry.
Jaclyn froze at the familiar words. “Your spy gave you the play-by-play from the press conference.”
“I should have been there.”
“What would your presence have accomplished?”
“As an equal partner, I would have welcomed the opportunity to show my support for the Monarchs' head coach.”
What a liar. “The only interest you have in the team is to ruin it. We both know that, so cut the crap, Gerry.”
“That hurts, Jackie.” He didn't sound as wounded as he wanted her to believe. “By any chance is your lack of faith in my intentions the reason you told Andrea Benson to call me?”
Jaclyn smiled. “Has Andrea contacted you already? That was quick.”
“She seems to think I started the rumors of Marc's drug addiction. Do you have any idea why she would believe that?” An edge entered Gerald's tone. He wasn't happy or smug anymore. Good. It was past time he felt even a little of the anger he'd caused her.
“Because it's true. Marc told us you'd threatened to smear his character in the press if he didn't throw the season for you. Did you think he wouldn't tell us?” Jaclyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He almost hadn't.
“Maybe we should drug test Marc again. He sounds delusional. And, while we're at it, we should screen you, too.” Gerald's pleasantries seemed to be over. He sounded ready to chew nails.
“Why would that be, Gerry?” Her documents printed, Jaclyn settled into her chair.
“Why did you tell Andrea about my intent to move the team to Nevada?”
Jaclyn pursed her lips to squelch a smile. She wanted to wine and dine the reporter for moving so quickly on the story. “Was that supposed to be a secret?”
“As a former contracts lawyer, I'd think you'd be aware that such delicate negotiations shouldn't be leaked to the media.”
“I have a better question for you, Gerry.” Jaclyn's temper had started to stir. “Why are you negotiating a deal when you know your partner is opposed to it?”
Gerald continued as though she hadn't spoken. “None of those plans are finalized. I'm still in the exploratory phase. It was very precipitous of you to leak the information to the media. You could have damaged my negotiations.”
“Good.” His accusation brought a sharp surge of satisfaction. “The Monarchs aren't leaving Brooklyn, Gerry. Get over it.”
“And you had no right to give a reporter Carville Abbottson's contact information.”
Jaclyn arched a brow at Gerald's raised tone. Her business partner was fraying around the edges. Good. She hoped the stress was getting to him. “I didn't trust you not to lie about your attempts to move the team to Nevada. Carville Abbottson corroborated your plans. You should be happy. Now all of your machinations are out in the open.”
The silence on the other end of the line was long and tense before Gerald spoke again. “I don't know what you thought you'd accomplish by discussing my plans with the media, but you haven't won.”
“But then again, Gerry, neither have you.” Jaclyn recradled her phone, disconnecting the call.
Gerald was right. She hadn't won. The Monarchs had their first winning record in three seasons, but they faced a long and challenging road to the play-offs.
And despite the press conference disputing Gerald's claim that the Monarchs' coach was a drug addict, her business partner's threat to smear DeMarcus in the media still hung over them. Gerald had proven how easily he could destroy the image DeMarcus had worked so long and hard to build. What other lies would he spread to try to capture the media's attention? How long would it take before the public started believing him?
Faced with that realization, would DeMarcus still do all he could to lead the Monarchs to the play-offs? Jaclyn would have to wait and see.
DeMarcus knocked on Jaclyn's hotel room door just down the hall from his own. His pulse was racing and his palms were sweating. He hadn't even been this nervous during his NBA draft fifteen years ago.
During the team dinner, Jaclyn had kept herself surrounded by players who'd seemed to sense she wanted to be shielded from their head coach. He'd been frustrated, but he'd understood the team's desire to protect her. Despite Jaclyn's independent image, the Lady Assassin was the kind of woman who brought out the chivalrous knight in men.
The room door opened. Jaclyn braced one hand on the threshold. The other gripped the doorknob. “I'm not really surprised to see you. Pigheadness is characteristic of a champion.”
DeMarcus leaned against the outer wall, crowding her. He gazed down into her cool cinnamon eyes. “You have the trophies to prove it.”
“It's not politic to call your boss pigheaded.” She didn't give him the smile he'd been hoping for. “I don't know what you think you'll accomplish by coming to my room. We don't have anything to discuss, and I'm not interested in anything you have to say.”
Her words rocked DeMarcus back on his feet, but he remained standing. “You're wrong. We have a team to discuss.”
Jaclyn gave him a dubious look. “Why do I suspect you only want to discuss the team now because I'm angry with you?”
“Because you have a suspicious nature.” He lowered his voice and shifted closer. “If we're going to disagree, could we do it in your room?”
Her cheeks heated. Her gasp was audible. “No, we can't. Go away.” Jaclyn stepped back to close the door, but DeMarcus pressed his hand against it.
“Please, Jack. I really do want to talk about the team.”
Jaclyn glared at him. DeMarcus saw hurt was well as anger in her expression. How could he show her how very sorry he was?
Finally, she stepped back, letting him in. “Keep it brief.”
He'd welcome even the little victories. “Thank you, Jack.”
DeMarcus strode past the small dining section and into the living area. He lowered himself to the puffy green and gold sofa and waited for Jaclyn to join him. She came as close as the armchair that bordered the living area.
At one time, they couldn't get close enough to each other. Now, she couldn't get far enough away. This is what his fear had cost him. A priceless, irreplaceable treasure. How could he get her back?
Jaclyn gripped the chair's back. “What do you want, Marc?”
She looked beautiful in a long-sleeved orange dress, like a sunrise bursting over a gold horizon.
When had he become a poet?
DeMarcus collected his thoughts. “I heard the press conference this morning was rough. I'm sorry.”
She shrugged. Somehow the movement created an even greater distance between them. “It wasn't as bad as it could have been.”
“You mean if I'd been there.”
“I'm certain, if you'd attended the press conference, the questions would have gotten out of hand.”
DeMarcus inclined his head. “Probably. But my absence didn't stop them from asking about our relationship.”
Jaclyn arched a brow. “It seems that everyone else has sources in the franchise. I'm the only one who doesn't have a connection to insider information.”
He wasn't sure what she was talking about. “I'm sorry you had to go through that, but I appreciate your public support.”
Her wave was dismissive. “Of course. If I thought you'd had a drug problem, I wouldn't ask you to lead my team.”
DeMarcus met her troubled gaze. “If you believe in me, why won't you give me another chance?”
Her smile didn't lift the clouds from her eyes. “Because I also believe you can't separate your lover from your boss.”
“Give me another chance, Jack.”
Jaclyn's lips tightened. “I've already given you two. The first was after you and Jamal had an altercation during practice. Oscar told me about that. And, today, with the drug rumors that Andrea told me about. You know what they say? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I can't let you fool me a third time, Marc.”
DeMarcus stood. “I never meant to hurt or disrespect you. When I get the ball, I tend to run with it. That's my failing. I can fix that.”
Jaclyn shook her head. “You were never a ball hog, Marc. You just didn't trust me with the ball. You thought you could carry it better. Well, maybe you can. But, as the franchise owner, I'd like a chance to at least discuss it.”
“OK. I can do that.”
“You've said that before. I want to believe you, but I'm afraid that I'll keep being misled.”
DeMarcus ran an impatient hand over his hair. His fingers were shaking. “Is it really that easy for you to throw away our relationship? Tell me how you've made it so easy so I can do it, too.”
Jaclyn exploded. “You think this is easy for me? I'm in love with you. But I can't walk away from the Monarchs. It would be like walking away from my family.”
DeMarcus saw stars. His blood buzzed in his ears. “You're in love with me? Since when?”
She made an irritated sound. “How does that even matter?”
“Then why are you keeping us apart?”
“I'm not the one keeping us apart.” She swung her arm to point at him. “You are.”
“No, I'm not. How can I when I'm in love with you, too, Jack.”
Jaclyn blinked. She stared at him blankly as though trying to translate his words. She swayed forward, then stepped back. “You love a part of me. The part outside of the office. I deserve someone who loves all of me. Inside and outside of the arena.”
DeMarcus spread his arms. “I was trying to help you. You're already stressed about the arena. I wanted to take care of the media problem for you.”
“I don't need you to be my knight in shining armor in the office. I need you to be my head coach.” Jaclyn spun away from him to pace into the dining area. “Between Gerry and Nessa, I have enough people to keep track of. I don't want to worry about what you're not telling me as well.”
BOOK: Fast Break
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