Jeff easily spotted Ben in the back of the Starbucks, as he was a head taller than the teenagers sitting around him. He had already purchased a drink of some kind for his cousin, so Jeff wouldn't have to stand in line and try to remember whether venti meant medium or large.

As soon as he saw Jeff, Ben stood up and they hugged in a guy-cousins kind of way.

“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” Jeff started.

They sat down.

“Hey, I'd have coffee with you every day if I could. I'm really glad you're living up here.”

“Me too. I think.” Jeff laughed.

“You think?”

“No. I love it. So does Maurine. And the kids seem to like having a bigger house and a yard. But I'm just a little more concerned about work than I thought I'd be.”

“Uh oh. Tell me about it.”

Jeff recounted the dilemma with the hospital and the hotel and the cash flow, none of which Ben knew about.

“You really are out of the loop on the business, aren't you?” Jeff teased him.

“Hey, Dad tried to get me interested in the business. I think when he finally realized I wasn't meant for it, he stopped telling me a lot.” He paused. “But I know enough to know that you definitely have a problem on your hands. And I am one hundred percent confident that my knowledge about American history, the full-court press, and fantasy football will be of absolutely no use to you.”

Jeff smiled. “I don't know. There is one thing you might be able to help with. And it's big.”

Ben was intrigued. “Really?”

“Yeah. We need help with teamwork.”

“Are you kidding? That stuff you did for my dad last year was better than anything I've got. I've been using it with my players, teaching them how to admit when they're wrong and to hold each other accountable. I don't know what I could add.”

“I'm not looking for any theories about how to make teams work. I just want to know how you identify which kids on your team are better at teamwork than others.”

Ben considered the question. “I don't know. I mean, I don't have a lot of options. We're a small school and I have to make do mostly with what I have.”

“But you beat teams from bigger schools all the time, right?”

“Yeah. That's because we play like a unit. No all-stars. No prima donnas. But I think that's more about the system than the kids. Like I said, I don't have a lot of players to choose from.”

“But if you did, what would you look for? How do you avoid prima donnas?”

Ben sighed, again considering the question. “I don't know.”

“Okay. Look at it a little differently. Imagine you were coaching at the college level. What kinds of kids would you recruit? And what kinds would you avoid?”

“I'd recruit tall ones and avoid the short ones,” Ben laughed.

Jeff pushed him. “You're not serious.”

“Well, no. I'm joking. I mean, I'd give my left leg for a kid over six foot five right now. But given that everyone needs size and speed and all that stuff, I'm sure there are other qualities, probably related to character, that I'd want.”

“Like what?”

“Well,” he was clearly thinking out loud, “probably someone who wants to be at practice. I love gym rats, but not just the kind who want to play one-on-one all day. I like the kids who come early and do extra drills. And watch film even when they don't have to.” He paused before adding, “And who kind of hate to lose.”

“Sore losers?”

Ben shook his head. “No, not at all. I mean, the kind who come to practice wanting to work as hard as they can to avoid losing. Coaching them is easy.”

Jeff pulled out his notebook and wrote something down.

Ben was curious. “So, who else have you talked to, and what have you learned so far?”

“You're pretty much the first.”

Ben's eyes widened. “Wow, I must be special.”

Jeff laughed. “You are definitely special. And I knew I could count on you to buy me a five-dollar coffee.”

“It's a nonfat, decaf, caramel macchiato. And I didn't buy it. I put it on the Valley Builders credit card.”

“You have a company credit card?” Jeff didn't even try to hide his surprise.

Ben laughed. “No, you idiot. What do you think, Dad just gives everyone in the family carte blanche to spend the company's money? Don't you know my dad?”

Jeff was relieved. “Yes, I do. And by the way, we have to find him a gardener. He shouldn't be mowing the lawn for a while.”

“Yeah, I talked to Mom about it today. My dad's not going to like that.”

“Speaking of your dad, give me some insight into him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like his attitude about teamwork,” Jeff suggested.

“Again, I'd think you'd know this better than me given the project you did for him. All I can say is that Dad's always said nothing is more important than teamwork, and he had this crazy intuition and usually seemed to know who had it and who didn't.”

“Can you give me something from when you were growing up that gives you a sense of what he thinks makes someone a team player? Or just a good person?”

Ben laughed. “Wow. You're full of deep questions today, aren't you?” He thought about it for a few seconds. “You know, my dad coached me in different sports, and the one thing I can always remember is that he didn't have a lot of patience for kids who sucked up to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe that's not the right phrase. He didn't like the kids who treated him differently than they treated one another. Or who treated the crummy players poorly.”

Jeff seemed satisfied with the explanation, but Ben suddenly had a minor revelation. “Oh, and he hated when kids on his team were focused on their own stats, or on how much time they played. One time he kept one of his best ten-year-olds on the bench for an entire game because he was a ball hog and wanted to be the leading scorer on the team.”

“How did the kid react? Or better yet, his parents?”

“Mom thought it was a good idea. But I was pissed.”

Jeff laughed.

“But I learned my lesson.”

The cousins spent the next forty-five minutes talking about family vacations and reunions from their childhood, until Ben had to leave for practice.

“Jeff, I'm really glad you're here. Dad likes to downplay things with humor, but I think you understand how much this company means to him, and to all of us.”

Ben's words were heartfelt, and Jeff could tell he wasn't trying to put pressure on his cousin, even if that was the effect.

They hugged and Ben left.

Jeff stayed for another ten minutes, adding more to his notebook. As he was getting ready to leave, he found himself torn between two competing emotions—mild relief that he was making progress and disappointment that everything he was hearing seemed so obvious. He decided he needed to look harder.