Wanted to know if we had any interest in joint operations in the Valley corridor. Expansion of his collection territory with protection in exchange for a percentage. He paused. The answer was no.
Was it a clean no? It was a no with a postscript, Bobby said. The postscript was that if he extended his operation into anything touching our interests, the conversation would become a different kind of conversation. Mike was quiet for a moment.
And he kept expanding anyway. He did. Another silence. The fluorescent light above booth nine hummed steadily.
Outside on the highway a semi passed the sound of it swelling and fading like a wave and then it was just the hum again and the distant tick of the diner settling. Leo lifted his face from his hands. His eyes were red-rimmed but dry. "I don't understand what any of that means for us." He said.
"I'm just I borrowed $2,000, man. I'm not connected to anything. I'm just a guy who made a bad choice when he was desperate and couldn't find a way out." "I know." Mike said. "So what?" "I said I know." Not sharp, just final.
"I'm not holding your debt against you. I'm holding it against the man who built the trap." He looked at Leo for a long moment. "Do you know what separates a man who borrows money from a bank from a man who borrows money from someone like Velasquez?" Leo shook his head. "About three bad weeks." Mike said.
"In the wrong zip code." Something cracked in Leo's chest. He felt it physically like a seam giving way and he had to look away from Mike Callahan's gray eyes because the combination of being seen clearly and being spoken to honestly two things he had not experienced from any authority figure in longer than he could remember was almost more than he could hold. Corey made a sound that might have been a laugh if the room had been lighter. "So what do we do?" He said.
"You're going to what? Forgive us? Let us walk out? Call the cops?" "No cops." Mike said immediately.