Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

“What would you say if I told you I want to move all of our investments to your company?” By law, I can’t cash out the money before the investment term is up, but I can transfer it to a different investment fund.

He sits up straighter. “All of it?”

“Everything.”

“How much are we talking about, exactly?”

I take out my phone and email him the document with our investment summary I prepared before the meeting. He opens the message when it pings on his computer screen, his eyes moving from left to right as he reads. When he gets to the bottom, his mouth hangs open.

He looks back at me. “All of this?”

“Herman, I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t have the cash flow to pay your fee. In fact, I don’t even have the money for the monthly investment debit order. If I don’t take a risk, and I mean a huge risk, I’ll lose everything. You may not lose much when one of your small investors goes under, but you can win so much more if you get this right. The way I look at it, it’s a win-win for us both. Besides, I believe good, hard work should be rewarded, and I like what I’ve seen of your work so far.”

Quincy speaks for the first time. “It’s a young company, Val. You don’t know if they’re going to make it.”

“I don’t know if we’re going to make it, either. Magda’s company came from Gabriel’s father’s father, but it’s not the same company, any longer. With all the changes I implemented, it’s as rookie as it gets. At least this way Herman and I are both personally invested.”

“I love your balls.” Herman gives me a look of approval.

This could be the biggest business mistake of my life, but since we stopped killing and threatening, our debtors aren’t paying, just like Michael predicted. It’s either this risk or closing our doors.

“Is that a yes?” I ask.

“Deal.”

He extends a hand, and we shake on it.

“I’ll have the paperwork drawn up,” he says.

Less than fifteen minutes after entering the office, we leave, adrenalin pumping through my veins.

“Damn, Val.” Quincy shakes his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“So do I.” Quincy’s profit is on the line too. “By the way, I have something for you and Rhett.” I take the contract from my laptop bag and hand it to him.

After reading, he looks at me much like Herman did, his mouth agape. “Twenty-five percent?”

“Yep. We’re splitting it four ways––me, you, Rhett, and our future CFO, if we ever find someone willing to work for dubious profit shares.”

He lowers the paper. “It’s too much. The company is yours.”

“We’re equal partners, all of us.”

“But you have Charlie and Connor to take care of.”

“One day you’ll have your own family to care for. Let’s just hope the gamble works.”

Rhett and Charlie, who spotted us waiting by the car, return with Connor and Bruno.

“Come on,” I say. “We’re going out.”

“Out?” Rhett bends his knees to put us on eye level. “Out where?”

“Wherever you want to go. We have shit to celebrate.”

“Val!” Rhett frowns at me. “Don’t cuss in front of Connor. What celebration?”

“Your contract.” I give him the piece of paper. “Sign on the dotted line so we can go.”

He gapes at me as if I have alien antennas on my head.

I strap Connor into his car seat while Rhett and Quincy seem to search for words. When I’m done, I straighten, stretching my back. The week has been rough. I can do with downtime and greasy comfort food. “Whereto, guys? It’s your call.”

“Spur,” they say in unison.

“The Spur?”

“Spu–Spur.” Charlie bounces up and down. He loves the Spur.

“You want to go to the Spur?” I repeat.

“There’s a baby playground,” Quincy says, “with face painting and everything.”

“Connor’s too young for face painting,” Rhett says, “and you don’t know what toxins are in that paint.”

“I bet he’ll love the slide.”

“He’s not going on that microbe infested super tube.”

I bundle them in the car while the arguing continues.

“Mil–milkshake.”

“Fine. Forget about the damn slide. There are games.”

“Dude, he’s not playing computer games until he turns eighteen. It’s bad for the brain.”

“He can’t be a social outcast. Guys play games. It’s what we do.”

Connor cooes as if he knows he’s the center of the heated discussion.

I text Kris and invite her to join us. Then I put the car into gear and lose myself in the safe bubble of squabbling voices. My body warms with a pleasant feeling of friendship and acceptance. If Gabriel weren’t gone, my happiness would’ve been complete.

The money from Gabriel’s estate eventually comes through when the unresolved police investigation is closed and his assets are no longer frozen. It’s barely enough to pay off the last of our debts, but it prevents me from having to declare the company bankrupt, which will leave me financially crippled for the next decade, as I wouldn’t be able to get a loan or buy anything on credit.