“Thanks for the tip, Gerry.” She folded her arms on the table in front of her. “The report I just shared with you shows the income from franchise merchandising and ticket sales. As of yesterday—September twenty-fourth—our profits are almost double last September’s revenue.”
Albert’s mouth relaxed into a smile. He flipped through the report, stopping at the summary sheet. “This is great news. What do you think caused it?”
“Our decision to hire Marc Guinn as the Monarchs’ head coach, of course.” Gerald’s tone was as dry as an emery board.
“That does appear to be the main influence on the increased sales.” Jaclyn always gave credit where it was due, just as her grandfather had taught her.
Albert nodded at Gerald, chuckling. “Then I’m glad we pushed for him.”
“So am I,” Jaclyn agreed. They had no idea how much.
Gerald’s penetrating stare attempted to read her mind. “You didn’t want to hire him at first. What made you change your mind?”
Jaclyn returned Gerald’s gaze. “The numbers speak for themselves. Hopefully, the increased sales will continue.”
Gerald skimmed his right index finger down the report. “Ticket sales are still lagging. The Empire still won’t be full.”
Jaclyn turned to the report summary. “We’ll be close. It’s a beginning. If this sales rate continues, we’ll be up more than sixty-five percent once the regular season starts.”
“That’s incredible.” Albert’s demeanor was much more upbeat than it had been in months.
Jaclyn smiled at him. “I’m hoping these numbers will convince the Empire owners to give us a grace period, at least one more season, to stay here.”
Gerald laid the report in front of him on the small conference table. “Bert and I aren’t going to stay here another year.”
Jaclyn turned to Albert. “What do you say, Bert? Do you want a grace period to stay in the Empire another season?”
Albert’s puzzled gaze bounced from Gerald to Jaclyn, then down the report. “I—”
Gerald cut off his partner’s answer. “We’ve already been over this, Jackie. The Monarchs deserve their own market.”
Jaclyn leaned into the conference table and enunciated. “Bert, what do you want to do?”
Albert’s gaze wavered away from Gerald, dropping back to the report. “I want to do what’s best for the team.”
Jaclyn stayed on him. “What do you think is best for the team?”
Gerald spoke for him. “Moving to another market where it could have the limelight.”
Jaclyn gritted her teeth. “This isn’t about the Monarchs, Gerry. It’s about you.”
Gerald glared at her. “Are you calling me a liar?”
Jaclyn matched his tone. “If you want to move, move. But Brooklyn is the Monarchs’ home.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.” Jaclyn dropped her hands to her lap and clenched her fists. She was allowing Gerald to shred her temper. She had to regain control.
Gerald sneered at her. “You’re president and general manager of the Monarchs by virtue of carrying majority shares, not by virtue of your brains, obviously.”
Her temper flew out the window. “Excuse me?”
“Stop it.” Albert’s low-voiced request barely registered to her.
“You’re holding the Monarchs back.” Gerald pointed his finger across the table toward her. “They’ll never be a world-class organization as long as they’re in the Knicks’ shadow.”
“How dare you.” Jaclyn’s voice trembled with the rage she’d just promised herself she’d hold on to. “Under your management, we lost top draft picks and quality coaches. Yet you have the audacity to blame me for the Monarchs’ problems?”