He looked at Eumie. Had Eumie told Kimani about his acquisition of the Tribune? But how would Eumie have known? He suddenly remembered their last night together: he had left his bathroom door open, Eumie was showering, and...shit.
Sensing a storm, Eumie decided to seek safer grounds. “I should go see if Aunt Alice is ready. We’re going to see a movie. The new one by—well, I should check on her.”
He barely noticed Eumie leaving. His gaze was on Kimani, and the emotion on her face was like a knife to his gut.
“Why—” he began.
“I don’t know why I didn’t... Jesus, I can’t believe you would do such a thing!” Kimani exploded.
Before he jumped to conclusions, he asked in a steady voice, though his pulse had quickened, “What are you referring to?”
“You! You bought the Tribune and shut it down.”
She stared at him as if challenging him to deny it.
“I did,” he acknowledged.
“That—that’s so wrong!”
“What was wrong was the Tribune running that article suggesting the independent expenditure was connected to Uncle Gordon.”
“Okay, that article was premature, but it contained only facts. In a way, the IE was connected to your uncle through you.”
“I removed myself from the IE before it was officially formed. The way those ‘facts’ in that article were laid out made it seem Uncle Gordon and I were doing something unlawful. And you know that.”
“That’s no reason to shut down a good paper—out of revenge.”
“I’m trying to protect Uncle Gordon. That piece you’re working on now about him—”
“It’s supposed to help Gordon! My editor wasn’t even sure he wanted to run it because it wasn’t hard-hitting enough.”
“How can you be sure that the article will be favorable? What if you guys end up doing more damage?”
“So you’re going to try to control the press?”
“If you’re upset about losing your job, I’ll—”
“It’s not just about me! You put a lot of good people out of work.”
“What do you want? A larger severance for everyone?”
“Look, I don’t know what it’s like in China, but a free press is vital to democracy. And it’s getting harder and harder for quality journalism to survive.”
“Frankly, that’s not my problem.”
Shit. He shouldn’t have said that.
She stared at him in silence, her chest rising and falling with large breaths.
He drew in his own breath to lower his blood pressure. “I’ll extend the salaries of everyone—”
“You can do that, but I’m not going to take your money. I don’t want your money.”
She grabbed papers off the printer and stuffed them into her handbag.
Fuck. She was pissed. He didn’t want her upset, but his own anger hadn’t dissipated.
“Kimani, I’m sorry that—”