Nella straightened. “I’m standing right here.”
“I know,” Uncle Sal said. “That’s why I chose debtor instead of something less polite.”
I pressed my teeth together.
Nella set her hand on my forearm.
She didn’t grip hard. She didn’t stroke. She just set the weight of her hand there until I made myself breathe.
“Sal,” I said.
“No. I’ve heard enough. If tonight is full, then tomorrow you prepare enforcement. Acceleration, penalties, collateral review, lease pressure. If she pays against principal, you accept it without promising cure. If she doesn’t pay enough, you move.”
Nella lifted her hand from my arm. “I still have time.”
“You have what I allow.”
“That’s a very brave sentence over the phone.”
“Nella,” I said quietly.
She shot me a look. “I’m not done.”
Uncle Sal laughed once, calm and cold. “You think he can save you because he carried a few boxes?”
“No,” she said. “I think I can save my bar because customers keep paying me. Nico is just tall enough to be useful.”
I pressed my tongue to the back of my teeth and held the smile off my face.
Uncle Sal’s voice sharpened. “This is amusing to you?”
“No,” I said. “It’s informative.”
“Then hear this clearly. By noon tomorrow, I want the default packet with your name on it. If I don’t get it, come back to Jersey and explain why my collector forgot who he works for.”
The kitchen bell rang downstairs.
Nella didn’t move.
“Enjoy your promo,” Uncle Sal said. “It may be the last one you run without our permission.”
The call ended.
The little office held the dead phone, the fan clicking in the corner, and the sound of the crowd downstairs.
Nella faced me. “You told me where he’ll twist.”
“Yes.”
“Then I keep it straight.”
“Nella.”
“No.” She picked up my phone and put it in my hand. “You can have whatever conversation with yourself you need to have after close. Right now, I have paying customers, and you have a patio line to keep out of my server lane.”
She opened the office door and went back into the rush.
I followed.
