One Percent of Love
I couldn't pull the deposit together, and the doctors said they couldn't operate without it.
I stood at the payment window, staring at the number.
Hurried footsteps came up behind me. Ethan's assistant, Kyle, jogged over with an envelope in his hand.
"Nora, Mr. Hart asked me to give you this."
I opened it. Inside was a loan contract, already signed by him, waiting for my signature.
Amount: fifty thousand. Interest: a hundred and twenty percent a year. Term: one year.
He'd lent me the money after all, at loan-shark rates.