Fast Break by Regina Hart Read Free Book Online Page B

decision, too.”
    The rest of DeMarcus’s tension drained away. “I hope so.”
    â€œI know so.” Julian settled deeper into the overstuffed, dark brown armchair. His stocking feet were flat against the scarlet-patterned Oriental rug. “Coaching the Monarchs now would be an exercise in futility. Jackie Jones doesn’t trust you with her team, and the other two don’t care about it—or the fans.”
    â€œCould I have helped the team win despite that? I’ll never know because I didn’t try.” DeMarcus paced back to the fireplace.
    â€œMarc, sit down, son. You’re making me dizzy.” His father gestured toward the matching armchair.
    DeMarcus looked at the plump, brown chair before lowering himself into it. For years, he’d considered it his mother’s chair. After her passing, it had taken him months to feel comfortable sitting in it. “Sorry, Pop.”
    His father’s eyes were solemn. “Son, I understand you think there are only two ways of looking at this situation: losing or quitting. You’ve always seen things as either win or lose, right or wrong, early or late. No one was ever on time.” He smiled to soften the observation.
    â€œEighty percent of a game is mental. That’s why you can’t arrive on time. You have to be early to prepare.”
    Julian raised his left hand, palm out. “I know, son. But what I’m saying is, sometimes there’s a third perspective, another way of looking at the situation. And this is one of those times.”
    DeMarcus’s brow knitted. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI’m glad you quit.”
    His brows jumped. “Why?”
    â€œBecause Gerry and Bert were trying to buy your integrity.” Julian’s voice deepened with anger. “They were trying to buy the name and reputation you’ve worked so hard to build your entire life.”
    DeMarcus sat back in his mother’s armchair and considered his father’s observation. Julian had a point. Instead of beating himself up for quitting, he should consider whether his motivation for leaving was as valid as the reason he’d wanted to stay. “I’d wanted to win a championship for you.”
    Julian looked bewildered. “You’ve already won two.”
    DeMarcus shook his head. “I wanted to win this one with your team. You’ve been a Monarchs fan all of my life.”
    â€œLonger than that.” Julian cleared his throat. “I appreciate that, son. But I’m glad you didn’t stay. I hope they don’t find anyone to help them with their scheme. The franchise founders are probably spinning in their graves.”
    â€œThe four men who started the Monarchs in 1956?”
    Julian nodded. “Four friends who loved basketball and loved their community, so they formed a team as a way to give something back. Their investment in the community brought excitement. More importantly, it brought jobs. And, until about four years ago, they were one of the elite NBA teams.”
    â€œIt amazes me that black men owned a competitive basketball team back then.” DeMarcus leaned forward, propping his forearms on his thighs. “That was during Jim Crow.”
    â€œAnd the start of the civil rights movement and the Harlem Renaissance,” Julian pointed out. “But it helped that one of the friends, Gene Mannion, was white.”
    â€œWhat happened to Mannion’s heirs?”
    â€œHe didn’t have any. In his will, he left his franchise shares to Jackie Jones’s grandfather, Franklin Jones. When her grandfather died two years ago, those shares went to Jackie.”
    DeMarcus straightened in surprise. “She’s the majority shareholder?”
    â€œShe has forty-nine percent.” Julian tipped his graying head back as though remembering that time and the way the news had traveled through the community. “Franklin Jones didn’t think one