Page 17 of You Owe Me

He leans forward now, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re stretched too thin. Why not drop the favors for a while? Focus on the legit stuff. The firm. The girl. You know… life.”

“Because thisismy life,” I say. “The IOUs, the network, the firm—it’s all one thing. One system. One reputation. If one part fails, the rest falls with it.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got Ainsley now.”

The room shifts slightly at her name. I feel it in my chest—not the way the doctors warn about. Worse. She’s the only real thing in this mess. The only thing that isn’t transactional. And I’ve still managed to drag her into the center of it all.

“She keeps you sane,” he adds. “That’s gotta count for something.”

“It does.” I say it too fast. Too defensive. I push a file toward him. “Can you get eyes on this guy? He’s supposed to be helping with test swaps, but he keeps screwing up the signature matching.”

Sebastian grabs it but doesn’t drop the topic. “You ever think about what happens if this all catches up to you? Like… officially?”

I shrug. “It won’t.”

“You’re asking people to go to class for other people, Mav. That’s not a favor; that’s academic fraud. You think the dean would shrug that off?”

I don’t respond. Because he’s right. And I know it. But I also know this machine I’ve built is too big to stop now. If I let one piece go, the rest crumbles. And if that happens, everyone who depends on me goes down with it.

He keeps going. “You’ve built an empire. But the more you say yes, the more cracks you put in the foundation. One pissed-off kid, one admin with a grudge—and this whole thing burns.”

I lean back, cracking my neck. “Then I’ll rebuild it.”

Sebastian stares at me, like he’s trying to decide if I’m a genius or a lunatic. Maybe both. Probably both.

“You really can’t stop, can you?”

“No.”

He sits back on the couch, still flipping through the file. “You should call her.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Didn’t say you did. But she’s good for you. Keeps you from going full Batman.”

I grunt. “If I’m Batman, you’re Alfred.”

“Bullshit. I’m obviously Robin.”

“You wear enough red.”

That earns a laugh. Then he gets serious again. “She’d want to know you’re spiraling.”

“I’m not spiraling.”

My phone buzzes. Two new emails. One’s a kid asking if I can ghostwrite his final paper. The other is labeled URGENT in all caps—probably another emergency roommate swap or someone trying to fake a medical exemption.

I don’t open either. I close my laptop and shove back from the table.

“Where are you going?”

“Shower. Coffee. Maybe get ahead of the implosion.”

Sebastian nods but doesn’t press. “I’ll hang out for a bit. You might need backup.”

I pause in the hallway, hand braced on the doorframe. “Clingy pussy.”

He waves me off. “You’rethe pussy.”

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