Page 81 of The Show

The wall directly ahead was a single plane of glass overlooking the field. Interspersed shades of green crossed over each other like tartan, surrounded by the magnificent brown earth fanning the bases and framed by bright white lines. Almost directly below us, groundsmen were freshening up the black and gold paint of The New York Lions, spelled out underneath the home plate in enormous letters above the official logo. I briefly wondered whether I ought to stop them seeing as it would change soon if Lowe had anything to do with it.

For the first time since this process began over three months ago, my heart skipped a beat of excitement.

This was mine. All mine.

I jolted when Murray walked into me from behind, knocking me from the spot I’d stood mesmerized on, which was when I noticed the boardroom table to the left of us filled with twenty to thirty of the executive team.

I’d been doing some homework this week, cramming information about my new employees. Just like when I’d been at college and thought I should probably do some reading the day before any test, I’d memorized most of the executive team, though I’d memorized their mug shots and not the haughty faces in front of me... every single one of which was screwed up in confusion.

“There are no women in here,” whispered Beulah, sidestepping Murray so she didn’t join the collision.

“You’re here now,” whispered back Murray. “You’ll have to change things up.”

She grunted quietly in response, but it was obvious she was less than impressed. I sent out a quick plea to whomever was listening that she’d be able to add Marnie to her list of female colleagues soon.

Maypole was now sitting at the head of the table while coffee was being poured out for him. My grandfather caught my eye and raised his brow, and I knew that was everything to do with the fact Maypole should not have sat his ass anywhere.

Everyone one else’s eyes were on the four of us, making it perfectly clear they had no idea why we were here. My grandfather also wasn’t used to being in a room with individuals who weren’t quite sure why the most successful businessman in America was standing in it too. Something he made known.

“Maypole, you gonna stand-up and introduce us?” he barked. “It’s what we’re here for, not a tea party.”

I glanced around, trying to figure out if they could tell what was about to happen and what was going on, but everyone still looked relatively blank and confused. I wondered if Trenton Furst had known. I also wondered if anyone in here knew he’d been fired.

We all watched Maypole finally get his ass out of my chair.

“Yes, yes. Just wanted a last cup of coffee.”

That announcement had everyone waking up. Heads were moving between Maypole and us, and like a Mexican Wave, the rest of the room caught on to something big happening. Suddenly a lot of noise erupted from the table.

“Why’s he acting like he doesn’t want this?” hissed Murray. “He couldn’t give zero shits about getting rid of this place.”

Silence fell on the room as Maypole raised his hand and stood.

“I’ll get to the point. It might come as a surprise to you that I’ve called this meeting, though it shouldn’t after that shitshow of a performance last night. The time has come for me to cut my losses. Over the summer, Lucian Shepherd came to me with an offer, and I accepted. The paperwork was finalized with the Commissioner’s Office, and Lucian Shepherd can add The Lions to his ever-growing smorgasbord of companies.”

My grandfather shot Maypole a look that I knew meant his patience was wearing thin and Maypole should watch his tone, while the rest of the room was now staring open mouthed, including me, Murray, and Beulah.

“Anyway,” Maypole grabbed a Danish pastry from the tray in the middle of the table and bit into it. “We were going to wait to announce at the end of the season, but the Shepherds decided to bring it forward. So… I’m leaving you in their hands, and I’m going on vacation.”

No one blinked; everyone just watched in silence as he walked out.

“That was literally the worst and most awkward introduction I’ve ever experienced,” declared Murray, with absolutely no interest in using his inside voice, and shaking everyone out of the staring competition they were having with the door Maypole had shut behind him.

It was barely a second before someone snapped.

“Can someone please explain what the actual fuck is going on? Where’s Maypole gone? And who are you?” Jason Reese, The Lions Deputy General Manager pointed to me, Murray, and Beulah, but not my grandfather - seeing as Maypole had just outed him. Though I assumed he would have known who my grandfather was even if he hadn’t been formally introduced. “Where the fuck is Furst?”

Guess that was my cue.

“I’m going to be replacing Trenton Furst as General Manager,” I announced to the room, and all eyes shot to me.

Jason Reese grabbed his phone and dialed, I’m assuming, Trenton Furst, to check I was telling the truth. This answered my earlier question - that no one in this room did know what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours; Jason Reese making it clear he was none too happy about it from the way he kept redialing, all while aiming an impressive scowl directly at me.

“And who the fuck are you?”

Murray chuckled under his breath, and my grandfather once again answered before I could.

“He is the new owner of this club, not me, so I’d keep your trap shut for the moment and listen if I were you.”

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