Five million richer
A text message comes in. It’s GG. Well, then. It’s the moment of truth. I dry my now clean hands that are finally free from all the gravy, and place the napkin on the plate in front of me. I’m so full I can hardly move.
“That was delicious,” Eric says, grabbing a toothpick from the table.
I nod distractedly as I pick up my phone. I don’t even notice that I’m holding my breath. I click on the text message and it opens up.
GG: Ok, let’s end this. I’ll give you what you want.
I read it twice. And then again. Yup, it says that he’s giving in. I let out the very long breath of air I’ve been holding in, only noticing at that point that I hadn’t been breathing. The relief is palpable. I’ve done it again. I can’t believe how easy this is.
“Good news?” Eric asks as I break into a grin.
“You could say that. Yes, very, very good news! Lunch is on me,” I say.
“Great,” Eric responds. “You’ve hit a jackpot?” he asks.
“In a manner of speaking,” I respond. “I invested in something that is paying off.” “Shares? Real estate?” he asks. “Commodities,” I respond. That’s somewhat true. My body was the commodity and the investment was my pregnancy. To get rid of it, I have three men who have agreed to pay me. They each think the baby belongs to them. As a result they each want me to terminate the pregnancy.
Mr N gave me Sh1 million. The VIP parted with Sh2 million, and now GG has also agreed to pay me Sh2 million. Not too shabby, I must say.
I will have to split the final Sh2 million with Mr N. I stiffed him out of his cut with the VIP because I doubt the latter will ever bring it up with anyone. So why admit to Mr N that I got paid?
But it’s different with GG. Mr N (through his connections) organised for a piece to run online on a popular blog. It was straight to the point and the threat was clear.
I go over those words again in my head — the straw that broke the camel’s back, as it were:
A prominent Nairobi businessman with close ties to the First Family and married to a lady from one of the most powerful families in the country has knocked up a local girl. Our sources say she is keeping the baby and a protracted legal battle will follow once the child is born, to force him to assume parental responsibility. It is unclear at this time if his wife is aware of the unfolding situation. The girl has promised to release his name soon. Watch this space. If I don’t tell Mr N that GG paid up, then I may have him making good on the threat to actually publish GG’s name. And we can’t have that. I respond to GG. When can I collect? “Since we are celebrating, can we have something stronger than water?” asks Eric, as I hit the send button.
Uh-oh. I’ve always been uncomfortable with how much Eric drinks, and it’s in the middle of the day! “Isn’t it a little early?” I ask gently. “It’s never too early when you’re celebrating,” he says, gesturing to a waiter.
“Can we have a bottle of champagne?” he asks the young lad.
“Wait! Champagne? Is this still on me?” I ask.
“No, this will be my treat, my love,” he responds.
My love? Well, well. Champagne and endearments plus two million bob. What else can go this well today?
I have my answer 10 minutes later as