Uncle Sal’s voice cooled. “Nico.”
“I’m here.”
“You hear the way she talks?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re still standing there like this is a negotiation.”
“This is a negotiation,” Nella said.
“It’s collection.”
“It’s my business.”
“It’s our contract.”
She pressed her fingers against her elbow, but she didn’t raise her voice. “Then you’ll get money against the original balance, backed by receipts.”
“That doesn’t erase default.”
“No,” I said. “But it gives her a chance to cure the honest part.”
“The honest part,” Uncle Sal repeated.
The fan clicked twice in the corner.
Nella glanced at me. She held her chin level, but color rose high in her cheeks.
I lowered my voice. “Sal.”
“No. If tonight is as strong as you claim, I want you to inspect the collateral, review the lease language, and prepare enforcement paperwork. If she misses one more deadline, this stops being a courtesy visit.”
Nella pushed away from the desk. “You mean if I prove the bar is worth money, you try harder to take it.”
“I mean profitable assets pay debts.”
“I’m not an asset.”
“No,” Uncle Sal said. “You’re the person who signed for one.”
I closed my hand around the edge of the desk.
Nella saw it and shook her head once.
She didn’t need me to answer for her.
She leaned over the phone. “You’ll have verified numbers after close tonight. Until then, I have a promo to run.”
“You’re still under deadline.”
“I know how calendars work.”
“Do you know how default works?”
“I’m learning from your nephew. He uses smaller words and better shirts.”
My uncle went quiet long enough for me to picture his face.
