no small favors

It is disturbingly wasy to craft my own way, a quiet talent hinting that perhaps I was always meant to do this, and ignore the guilt that twinges in my heart. It is uncomfortable, however, to call in a debt I thought I would be able to ignore. Nash Fuentes was glad to get a line from me for the first time in years.
"Business trip to Mars?" he asked, smiling lasciviously.
"No. Listen, I need to call it in." The grin vanished instantly.
"You're in that much trouble?"
"No. I just need it."
"You said you'd never have to call it in."
"I said probably."

If he didn't hate me at our last parting, as I had tried to make him do, he would hate me now. The amount in question is paltry, easily absorbed by his now booming business, but it is more than I have now. Its also more than I technically need to restore my funds, but while I am burning my bridges I may as well make a clean show of it. The look on his face told me how little he appreciated this unexpeced contact and my unwillingness to forgive this small debt. If I collected everything that is owed me in the 'verse I'd have a tidy sum, but its not worth reminding so many people of my existence. Its better to be forgotten, and Nash Fuentes will never ask me to dance again.