“Where is Russell in all this?”
Armi’s brows drew together. “Meaning what?”
Whitmore frowned. “He’s the GM. We should wait until he’s back full-time before making these major decisions.”
God, he hated confrontations. His heart pounded, but he tried to remain calm and folded his hands. “Why?”
“What the hell do you mean, why?”
“There’s no need to raise your voice,” he responded quietly. “I asked you a simple question. Why should I wait for Russell?”
“Because,” he snapped, “he’s the one in charge. Russell has always been involved in all the major decisions regarding the team. Next to your father, he was the leader. He should’ve been—”
“The new owner?” Armi filled in. “Don’t deny it. That’s what you think, isn’t it?”
“What if it is?” Jacob challenged. “You don’t know shit about running a football team.”
“Maybe it’s time we stop doing things the old way and listen to new voices. New ways of thinking.” Armi tried to remain civil simply because he’d been taught to be respectful. Even to people who might not deserve it.
“You mean your way?” Jacob demanded and stood. “I’m not taking orders from some kid who doesn’t know the difference between defense and offense.”
“I believe in listening to all voices. That’s how a true team operates. If you can’t guarantee that you’ll agree with that, then maybe it’s time for you to step aside.”
“I don’t have to listen to this bullshit from some flower-carrying fairy. Come on, Troy.” He walked to the door and flung it open. Troy remained seated, and Jacob waited. “Troy? What the hell are you waiting for?”
“I’m waiting for you to stop following Russell like a puppy and think for yourself. Yeah, Armand’s made some mistakes, but he’s trying, and if we don’t help, isn’t that only hurting the team and our bottom line?”
Armi held his breath as Jacob went apoplectic. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Bad enough we’ve got an owner who sleeps with men, didn’t you hear what happened this morning?”
“No. Should I have?” Troy glanced around the table.
Coach shook his head. “Not a clue.”
Armi’s face burned. “There’s no need to bring that up here. This is a business meeting about the Kings. Not a referendum on my personal life.”
“Your personal life reflects on the team.”
“No. It does not,” Armi snapped. “Go into any stadium and ask a fan who the owner of the team is. I’ll bet most don’t know, and even more importantly, a hundred percent won’t care about his or her personal life unless they’ve committed some unforgivable crime.”
“He’s got a point, Jacob,” Troy agreed.
Jacob snorted. “His boyfriend was a porn star. You all okay with that image for the team?”
Troy’s and Coach’s brows rose.
“What does his boyfriend have to do with the team?” Frowning, Coach looked to him for an explanation.
Armi met his eyes. “He works here. It’s Hayden. My PA.” Their brows disappeared under their hairlines, and he rushed to explain. “It happened when he was seventeen—a kid. The record was supposed to be sealed and the one video destroyed, but Russell dug it up and tried to humiliate Hayden and me. But we’re not going to allow something that happened decades ago to hinder us, personally or professionally.”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Jacob,” Troy stated. “I’m not interested in what someone did when they were seventeen. Maybe you never got into any trouble when you were young or did stupid things you regret, but all I have to say is I’m glad there was no Internet back then. And considering some of the messes our players get into now…” He shrugged. “Porn is pretty far down on the list.”
“Amen,” Coach muttered.
“You’re all assholes. Wait until advertisers pull their spots, the endorsements dry up, or players don’t want to sign with you because of this gay garbage.”
“What do you mean, with you? Aren’t you still part of the team?” Armi asked.
“No. I’m done. The Kings’ days are numbered. I’m not willing to circle the drain with them and watch a lifetime of hard work vanish. I’m retiring.”
