“That stunt is going to cost you twenty-five thousand dollars.” Cam shakes his head. “Idiot mistake.”
“Fuck you, Cam,” I snap, and his eyebrows shoot up. He smirks when he looks behind me and sees the press there.
I don’t say anything else. I don’t have a chance to, my phone rings and I look down to see Ken calling me. “What?” I say, putting my phone to my ear.
“Let Cam handle the press, or Eric. Do not go in front of one fucking reporter,” he instructs, and I hang up on him before I tell him to also go fuck himself.
“Eric,” I say when I get into the makeshift coaches’ room, “you’re taking press.” He and Cam both turn back to me.
“I’m taking press,” Cam says, and I shake my head.
“I’m in charge and he’s taking fucking press.” I point to Eric.
“It’s a fucking joke,” Cam retorts. “You are going to run this team into the ground.”
“Is that what you’re waiting for?” I ask him and he doesn’t say anything; he just walks out of the room.
“Listen, I get you’re heated,” Eric tells me, “but you need to relax for a bit. Why don’t you sit in here until we head back to the hotel?” I nod my head at him.
The bus ride back to the hotel is so quiet you could hear a fucking pin drop. I walk into the room, and I collapse on my bed. I can’t believe tonight went the way it did. Knowing I need a distraction and to hear her voice, I call Victoria.
“Well, that was fun,” she says, answering the phone after half a ring. “How are you doing?”
“I’m so pissed,” I confess, my voice sounding as defeated as I feel. “I just don’t know what the fuck is happening.”
“I know you’re frustrated, but freaking out behind the bench?—”
I close my eyes. “I know, Victoria.”
“But losing sure does suck,” she notes, and I smile looking over at the dark sky.
“It sucks so bad,” I sigh out, “and I can’t even coach the next game.”
“How does that make you feel?” she asks softly, and I wish she was here.
“Aside from wanting to take all the furniture in my room and throw it out the window?” I close my eyes. “Like I let them down,” I admit
“Well, I think it’s a two-way street,” she explains. “You let them down, but they are also letting you down. I mean, that play by Jaxon was ridiculous.”
“It was and he knew it. It didn’t help that I got on his ass.” I fold my arm under my head. “They can play better than they are playing,” I hiss out.
“I know.”
“They also fucking know,” I say, getting heated. “I just don’t know what else to fucking do,” I admit. “I just don’t. I should let you go. We take off tomorrow and head to Colorado,” I tell her.
“What hotel are you guys staying at?” she asks me.
“I think the Marriott.” I open my travel schedule and send her the information. “Now you have it.”
“Go to sleep,” she urges softly. “Tomorrow is a new day.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Sleep tight.” I hang up the phone and get undressed.
The flight the next day is the same thing as the bus. No one is saying anything to anyone. Everyone is on fucking edge, and it just gets worse when I see the headlines.
“Coach Gilmore Loses It Behind the Bench. Is He Right for the Job?”
“Warriors Start to Crumble and It Starts with the Coach.”
