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hanging on every wall. Abstract metal sculptures posed on shelves and tables all around him. There wasn’t a single picture of the Monarchs or any team paraphernalia in the room. Not even a logo.
    DeMarcus sat in one of the three green armchairs facing the franchise partner’s desk. His office was smaller than Gerald’s. Still, he felt lost in his room, whereas Gerald had wedged himself into this space. DeMarcus felt crowded by the other man’s belongs.
    â€œIs it true you hired me to lose?” DeMarcus didn’t see the point in beating around the bush.
    Gerald’s body seemed to relax. His narrow form was impeccably dressed in a pin-striped brown suit. He was buttoned into his jacket even as he reclined behind his desk. “I’m glad that’s out in the open. Who told you?”
    He couldn’t have heard correctly. “It’s true?”
    There was an edgy look in Gerald’s small brown eyes. “It doesn’t matter how you found out. All that matters now is that you know the plan.”
    DeMarcus narrowed his eyes. “You lied about the reason you were hiring me.”
    Gerald looked surprised. “I didn’t tell you I wanted you to win.”
    DeMarcus gritted his teeth. “It was implied.”
    Gerald waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. You’re in on the plan now.”
    â€œYou want me to lose.” Losing was a foreign concept to DeMarcus. He never allowed himself to imagine it. He always envisioned success.
    â€œYes, we do.” Gerald’s tone was definite.
    â€œâ€˜We’ who? You and Bert?” DeMarcus pictured the third Monarchs franchise partner, Albert Tipton. The smaller man hadn’t spoken much during DeMarcus’s job interview.
    â€œAnd Jackie. All of us.”
    DeMarcus stilled. “The three of you discussed it?”
    â€œYes. We’ve had several in-depth discussions.” Gerald’s expression was earnest. The liar made a good actor.
    â€œAnd what did Jackie say?”
    Gerald shrugged his shoulders. “She agrees that we should go for a losing season.”
    DeMarcus’s blood heated. Gerald’s dishonesty didn’t bode well for their working relationship. “Why?”
    Gerald pulled his chair farther under his desk and leaned across it. “We want to break the arena contract and relocate the team.”
    DeMarcus hadn’t considered that. “Have you had any offers?”
    â€œNot yet. But I’m sure the offers will come once we put out the feelers.”
    â€œWhere are you looking?”
    Gerald shrugged again. “We’d prefer a state that doesn’t have an NBA team. Like Nevada.”
    The situation couldn’t get any worse if he tried. “What would my role be?”
    â€œOf 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 the 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?”
    â€œShe 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?”
    â€œYou and Bert offered me this job under false pretenses.”
    Gerald frowned. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI thought you wanted me to coach. Instead you want me to bend