Roke Alva

"The sun will rise at 8:13," read the notification from the Weather app. The clock showed 1:02. Roque sighed and pushed his phone away.
Watching the sunrise is romantic. Watching the sunrise at work, surrounded by stacks of reports, might be aesthetic, but it's not romantic at all. A second bottle of wine for the evening hadn't fixed the situation. Alva finished the remains of his glass and swirled it, watching the lamp's reflections through the glass. It was definitely time to hire a secretary; carrying such a volume of paperwork was becoming harder with every new branch opened.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Who would be here at such an hour? The coffee shop was locked, and only he and the barista had keys. Unless...
Richard's sleepy but anxious face appeared in the doorway. Of course, who else...
— I noticed you haven't left yet, sir. Is everything alright?
Roque almost silently kicked the empty bottles under the table with his foot.
— Everything is fine, young man. And what are you doing here at this hour? You have a morning shift tomorrow.
Richard entered the office and closed the door. He looked like a puppy that had misbehaved.
— I couldn't fall asleep, looked out the window, and my windows happen to face the coffee shop. I saw that the light was on in your office. So I decided... maybe something happened.
What a piece of work. He deserved a good scolding for sticking his nose into other people's business.
— Here, look. Roque spread his arms, gesturing to the piles of papers. Satisfied your curiosity?
Richard frowned, then took a step forward.
— I can help. My mother used to handle documents too. I know the basics. Will you teach me the details?
The young man's confident gaze made it clear: his decision was firm and unwavering; he had no intention of backing down. Roque rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Help really would be useful...
—... fine, young man. Sit down, I'll show you what to do. And just try filling something out incorrectly, and you'll get an extra shift. Initiative is punishable.
But from Richard's happy face, it was clear: even if it were five shifts—he wouldn't regret his decision.