dder made me feel better. I swore his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets any second.
“This is bullshit, and you know it. Wales, get control of your daughter.”
My father stood. His once jet-black hair had bits of silver in it now, and his blue eyes flared with anger. Even in his late fifties, my father was a formidable figure. “What I consider bullshit is getting a call from the local authorities in the middle of the night because my minor league team is trespassing, damaging public property, and acting inappropriately. What I consider bullshit is that my company is now linked to this PR nightmare.” Dad’s voice rose. “What I consider absolute bullshit is the lack of fucking respect you have shown my daughter—your general manager—in front of me! Get your shit and get out. And if Kendall hadn’t fired you, I would have.”
“You’ll be talking to my lawyer.”
Dad slid a card across the table. “Here’s the number to mine. But before you call, read your contract carefully.”
“I made this team what it is.”
That wasn’t saying much.
I took control of the conversation. “Coach Bailey, I hope we won’t have to have you forcibly removed from the premises. You can either go with Jethro, or we can arrange to have your belongings shipped to your house.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. Before he could say another word I pointed to the door. “Jethro is waiting in the hall. Good day, Coach Bailey.”
Fuming, he stomped out the door. Jethro’s deep voice greeted him as they walked away.
“Well done, Kendall. That was overdue.”
Dad deserved an explanation. “I know it was, but I’d like to explain why I waited.”
With a nod, he allowed me to continue.
I sat in a black leather chair, and Dad followed. “When I first came, I knew Coach Bailey was a problem and needed to be fired. However, I also had to get my hands around the finances here. Hiring a new coach to handle this mess is going to be a massive undertaking.”
“You could have come to me.”
Dad and Mom had always been supportive in every way. “I know, Dad. But I needed to do this on my own. I put this deal together and presented it to you. I had to show you I can handle it.”
Dad’s smile conveyed his approval. “So, what’s your plan?”
“To build this team up. Right now, it’s a mockery—the joke of the league. We need to start from the ground floor. I have a coach in mind; I want to make him an offer.”
“Which one?”
“Hunter Owens.”
Dad’s eyebrows pinched together. “The Tennessee coach who disappeared?”
I heard the doubt in his voice, and I understood what I was up against. “Yes. He lives just ninety minutes from here. I’m going to go see him tomorrow.”
“You realize this would be a step down for him? A major step down, considering the shitstorm surrounding this team’s behavior.”
That wasn’t a no, so I pressed on. “I understand that, but I think this guy thrives on a challenge. I’ve studied his videos. He was passionate about the game and his players. Coach Owens was all in, and he cared. There’s no way he doesn’t miss the game. We need someone like that to turn this organization around. And having a coach like him would definitely bring some much-needed positive PR to this team.”
Dad leaned back in his chair. “And the finances?”