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Thomas had spent the beginning of the meeting sounding like Bobby Erlich’s advance man. When he finally stopped to take a breath, Erlich smiled.

“I can’t lie. Everything your brother just said about me is true.”

However old Erlich was, he was trying hard to look younger, like an eternal boy. He was on the smallish side, maybe five foot six. He’d given in to his baldness, I had to give him that, somehow making it look cool. White T-shirt, khakis, white tennis shoes.

“Basically,” Thomas said, “Bobby’s specialty is getting people out of big shit.”

Erlich tried to smile modestly. Missed by a lot.

“I like to think of myself as an emergency-room doctor.”

“My situation isn’t quite that bad,” Jenny said.

Erlich said, “You wouldn’t be here if that were true, and neither would I.”

“I just need to ride this out.”

“You’ve been trying to ride it out,” Erlich said. “How’s that working for you so far? The world is starting to think of you as the oldest Kardashian girl when what you really need is for it to see you as a smart, competentfemaleCEO who’s getting constantly attacked by men.”

Thomas said, “It’s like they say in AA, Sis. First step toward recovery is admitting you have a problem.”

“I don’t have a problem! I have older brothers. Big difference.”

Erlich looked at my younger brother and said, “And therein lies the problem.”

“What Bobby is trying to say,” Thomas said, “what we’rebothtrying to say, is that you need to stop being Front Page Jenny Wolf.”

“Do either of you think that’s what Iwantto be?”

Erlich smiled and sipped the Dragonwell green tea he said he had delivered from China. He’d offered some to both Thomas and me. We’d settled for coffee.

“Your brother didn’t punch himself into San Francisco Bay,” Erlich said, “whether he deserved it or not.”

Erlich leaned forward and tented his fingers under his chin.

“I can help you get out of this, Jenny,” he said, “but not if you don’t stop acting like you’re on a sugar high.”

“In my defense, may I point out that the Wolves are actually winning these days?”

“Well, enjoy that while you can,” Erlich said, “because the way things are going, you’re not going to be running the team for much longer. Which is another reason why you have to change the narrative.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

I hadn’t wanted to come and was already tired of being there, despite the fact that Erlich was just trying to help. I knew it wasn’t his intention, but he was talking to me as if I’d been a very bad girl and needed to be punished. With just a touch of mansplaining thrown in.

He came around his desk and sat on it, legs dangling over the side.

“First you need to apologize,” he said.

“To Jack? I’m more likely to walk over to Ghirardelli Square and set myself on fire.”

“You’re already doing that,” Erlich said. “I’m here trying to take the matches away.”

Then he asked if I’d please just hear him out. I told him I owed him the courtesy of doing that. Then Bobby Erlich told me how he would craft a statement, making it funny and contrite at the same time, saying that Jenny Wolf now realized she wasn’t twelve any longer and couldn’t smack her brother every time he hurt her feelings.

After that, he said, anticipation was the key—trying to stay a step ahead, being prepared no matter what Jack or Danny threw at me next, then making a plan and staying with it.

“The big one,” he said finally, “is communication, communication, communication. You need to connect with your fan base apart from, and maybe even above, continuing to win football games.”