She only hoped that Ben didn’t show up. Surely he had better things to do, and given how things had ended between them last, he might not want to see her either.
A part of her felt bad about the way she’d reacted. He was trying to protect his uncle, and she tried to imagine if she might, as he’d suggested, do the same, were she in his shoes. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t imagine shutting down a paper for personal interests. A newspaper wasn’t just a source of information, it was a seeker of truth, a light to shine on the best and worst in the world, and a voice for those who otherwise might go unheard.
But he had a right to be suspicious of the Tribune, given what had happened...
Kimani blew out a large breath as she tried to focus on the event. She wanted to arrive early to help with setup.
“It’s game day, Kimani,” she told her reflection in the hallway mirror. She had worn her hair in a double French braid and was dressed in sweats in case she decided to shoot a few hoops herself.
“Good luck with your event,” Marissa said. “I wish I didn’t have to work so that I could come and help you out.”
“I’ll be fine, but thanks. I’ll see you later,” Kimani returned as she left the house with a large gym bag of basketballs draped over her shoulder.
Stepping out—she froze.
But it wasn’t Ben this time. Across the street stood a tall, beefy guy she recognized as Vince, Jake’s bodyguard, or something like that. He was leaning against a wall, a cigarette sticking from his mouth, casually watching her.
She hadn’t thought to include him in the restraining order. Is that how Jake was going to try to intimidate her from now on?
She stared at Vince, whose lips curled in a small smile. She fished out her cellphone and took a picture of him, proof that she needed a restraining order on him, too. He seemed startled and walked away.
It wasn’t a damn coincidence that he was there. Despite her best efforts to shake it off, she couldn’t help but be unnerved.
Don’t let that asshole get the better of you.
Taking a deep breath, she focused on getting herself to East Oakland. She was the first one on site, but a number of volunteers from Gordon’s campaign showed up shortly after. They set up tables, the refreshments, and PA system.
“This was such a great idea,” Gordon said to Kimani after he had arrived. “I’d love to do more events like this.”
“I’m happy to help out,” Kimani said.
Her mood had improved since arriving. The weather couldn’t be nicer for a mild, sunny autumn day. The turnout was looking good, and kids were already having fun playing ball.
“You plan on playing any ball, Mr. Lee?” she asked playfully.
“I can try,” he answered. “It should be good for a laugh or two. But I’ll probably leave the ball playing to Ben.”
Kimani’s breath lodged in her throat. “Is he, uh, coming?”
“I don’t know. I mentioned the event to him in passing, and he sounded surprised. I guess I had assumed he knew about it.”
She cleared her throat but didn’t respond directly to that. Instead, she asked, “All set to kick off the event?”
Microphone in hand, Gordon welcomed everyone and thanked the volunteers and the nonprofit organization.
“And I would especially like to thank Kimani Taylor, who had the idea for this event and who organized it almost single-handedly,” he said. He gestured for her to join him. “Let’s all give her a great big thank you.”
She waved at the crowd as they applauded.
Gordon went on to talk about what the event meant for him and the neighborhood, what he believed needed to be done differently in City Hall to better address the needs of the community, and what values he and his campaign stood for. He kept his remarks brief so that they could get on with the fun parts of the event. Kimani had gotten an old friend from high school to provide some music, and Maybelle showed up with barbecue, beans, and collard greens.
Halfway into the event, they had raised five hundred dollars.
“I made a call to the East Bay Neighborhoods Foundation,” Gordon said to Kimani, “and the Executive Director there agreed to match the donations we’ve collected today dollar for dollar.”
“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed.
A television reporter interrupted to ask if she could interview Gordon.