Page 88 of IOU

Ainsley chuckles. I’m sure she finds his comment hilarious. Isn’t that what she says I do, take souls in return for favors?

“Fuck y—”

“Maverick! Get in here!”

I groan at Pops’s voice.

Coop wiggles his brows and makes the sign of the cross. “I promise to take good care of your car when you’re gone. Ainsley, too, if she needs me.”

Clearly, Cooper needs another sibling to annoy.

I flip him off and inhale. “Come on,” I say to Ainsley. “Let me introduce you to my pops.”

In the front room, Pops is sitting at his desk, his head bent over a large stack of papers.

“Hey, Pops.”

His head rises slowly and meets my eyes.

“Seventy-two percent,” he says, holding up a single sheet of paper.

I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “Yes, sir,” I confirm.

Pops’s gray hair doesn’t move when he shakes his head and motions to the chairs in front of him. “Have a seat, boy, and don’t be rude, introduce your friend.”

I tug Ainsley behind me and we both sit. “Pops, this is Ainsley, my ...” I look at Ainsley, watching the curious expression on her face. Dammit. Fine. “My friend and roommate.”

There, that’s all the truth I can force out for now.

Ainsley’s mouth ticks up into a big ass grin. I finally admitted we are friends—friends who like the taste of each other.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ainsley,” Pops says, bringing the focus back to my dire situation. “I’d like to say Maverick has told me all about you, but I’ve recently found out he likes keeping things from me.”

Ugh. That stings.

“I planned to tell you.” I sigh, raking a hand through my hair.

“When?” He probes, all seriously. “After you graduated and took over my company?”

I can feel my explanations dying a slow death. “You’ve been recovering.” It’s not a good excuse, but it is the truth. “I was just trying to help. Laraunt quit out of nowhere and you were losing money.”

The old man’s mouth quirks. “Apparently. Tell me, boy, how did you find out about Laraunt’s departure anyhow?”

I bite my lip—damn, I wish I had a cigarette to chew on. “I might have gotten ahold of the password to your files, including your email.” I cringe.Please don’t ask me why. I was a different person back then.

“Why didn’t you just ask me for them?”

Fuck. I breathe out a heavy sigh. “I lost some money a couple of years back ...” I don’t need to add that it was playing poker. He knows. You don’t become good unless you experience every aspect of the game, including losing everything. “I borrowed a little money.” I hold my hands out pleading. “And I paid it back with interest.”

A smirk is still on Pops’s face. What the hell? “How much interest?”

I rear back, confused. “Five percent.”

Pops huffs. “I would have made you pay eight.”

I shift in my seat. “Eight was too much given the fair market value at the time,” I retort, a little snippy. I didn’t shortchange him, except, maybe, borrowing the money without his permission.

“Anyway,” I add, redirecting. “I had been depositing the money”—I don’t add that I slowly put the money back over time, while forging the records. I feel like that’s not relevant at the moment. The point is, the money was repaid in full from a new client (aka me)—“and I saw the email Laraunt sent to you, resigning.” I shrug a shoulder. “At the time, you were in the rehab hospital and I didn’t want to worry you.”

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