“Of course, we want you with us.” Gerald settled deeper into his green executive chair. “Once we’re out of this arena and have an NBA market to ourselves, we want someone who can take us to a winning season. Someone who could rebuild the team for us and create a dynasty.”
Gerald lied as easily as he breathed. Could DeMarcus trust anything out of the man’s mouth? A deep breath eased th
e tightness in his shoulders. His eyes were cold and his voice flat as he began to unravel Gerald’s tall tales. “Jackie Jones would never go along with this idea.”
Gerald narrowed his eyes. “What makes you say that?”
“She told me when she asked for my resignation.” DeMarcus took small satisfaction from Gerald’s shock.
The other man’s eyes stretched wide. His mouth opened, then closed. “Don’t worry about Jackie. Bert and I can handle her. After all, she was against hiring you, but you’re here, aren’t you?”
“You and Bert offered me this job under false pretenses.”
Gerald frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I thought you wanted me to coach. Instead you want me to bend over.”
Gerald shook his head. “We’re just asking you not to win. Not this season.”
“When I accepted your offer, I wasn’t handing over my integrity.” DeMarcus stood. “I quit.”
Gerald raised his chin to maintain eye contact with DeMarcus. “You can’t quit. We have a contract.”
“My lawyers will shred your contract.”
Gerald popped out of his chair. “That contract is airtight.”
“You misrepresented your intent.” DeMarcus laughed without humor. “You don’t want to go public with that when you’re looking for a new market. You won’t come across as trustworthy.”
“How will you come across once the media reports that you couldn’t keep the coaching job for even a week?”
DeMarcus remembered the reason he’d wanted to coach the Monarchs. “My integrity is more important than what the media thinks.”
“Dammit. We just need one more losing season. You can win next year.”
DeMarcus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have any idea what it takes to be a champion. A champion doesn’t take a season off. Ever.”
“I thought you wanted to coach.”
“You don’t want a coach. You want a stooge. I’m not anyone’s stooge.” He ignored the partner’s demands and turned to leave.
DeMarcus strode into the main office area. The two administrative assistants regarded him with open curiosity. Two doors to the right, Troy stepped from his office. DeMarcus exchanged a long look with him before marching down the hall.
“Marc.”
DeMarcus couldn’t hear Troy’s footsteps on the plush, wall-to-wall silver carpet behind him, but the other man’s voice sounded close. He didn’t stop until he came to the elevators.
“The rumors are true?”
DeMarcus looked over his shoulder at Troy. “Yes.”
The elevators arrived. Troy stepped on with him. “Are you really going to quit?”
“I already have.” DeMarcus ignored the sudden silence surrounding him and watched the elevator’s liquid crystal display count down the floors. He didn’t know why the media executive was following him around the arena to his office. He didn’t care.
DeMarcus strode to his desk and punched the keys to log back on to the system.
Troy finally spoke. “You should talk to Jackie.”