Amante Del Rischio

December 25, 2012.

The morning sunshine finally broke through the heavy, bruised-grey clouds, casting a bright, wintery glow across the living room of the loft.

"Morning, Daeron."

I groaned, slowly peeling my eyes open against the glare. Glancing over the armrest of the leather sofa, I saw Claudia standing in the middle of the living room, wearing a bright, entirely genuine smile.

"Yeah... good morning, Clau," I muttered. My voice was raspy, and my back ached as I stretched my stiff limbs across the cold leather cushions.

"I made breakfast for us! Come on, get up. It’s already 8:00 AM."

"What?" I patted my pockets blindly until I found my phone, squinting at the glowing screen. "Oh, damn. You’re right."

She giggled, resting her hands on her hips. "Come on, you weren't planning on sleeping the entire holiday away, were you?"

I looked up at her. Waking up to her energetic banter and bright smile was a hell of a lot better than waking up to the crushing silence I was used to. "Yes, ma’am. I'm up," I sighed, pushing myself into a sitting position.

If anyone else had walked in, they might have wondered how my female coworker ended up in my apartment on Christmas morning. But the truth was entirely innocent.

We had simply lost track of time. We had spent the entire night wrapped in blankets on the balcony, eating cake, exchanging stories, and laughing until the early hours of the morning.

"Oh my god, it’s already 2:00 AM!" Claudia gasped, her eyes widening as she checked the time on her watch.

"Whoa. We really spent the entire night out here." I looked at the chaotic pile of empty snack wrappers scattered across the small patio table. "And you sure did some serious damage to my pantry, huh?" I smirked.

She gasped, her hand flying to her chest in mock offense. "Hey! Eating them was your idea!"

"Well, at least you finally got to enjoy yourself!" I laughed.

But as the laughter faded, Claudia grew quiet. She started nervously fidgeting with her fingers, her dark eyes scanning the snowy, frozen streets far below the balcony.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Hey. Since we’re going to be spending all day tomorrow brainstorming the business in here anyway... how about you just... stay the night?" I offered gently, rubbing the back of my neck.

She turned around to face me, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"It’s just a suggestion!" I quickly clarified, not wanting to overstep her boundaries. "If you’re uncomfortable, I will gladly grab my keys and drive you back right now. But if you were planning on walking back alone in this weather, I absolutely forbid you from doing that."

She looked down at the concrete floor, her eyebrows pulling together in a stubborn frown.

"You can take my bed. I’ll take the sofa in the living room," I offered.

Her head snapped up. "No! If you are suggesting I stay, then I will gladly take the sofa!"

"Nope! Can’t do it. You are taking the bed."

"No! Daeron, you alre—"

"Please!" I cut her off gently, my tone softening. "We already talked about this. Don’t treat me like a stranger, please. Let me do this."

Her eyes darted away, her fierce independence finally melting under the exhaustion.

"Besides," I added, throwing a cocky smirk her way, "I don’t want you out in the living room devouring the rest of my snack stock while I’m asleep."

She stepped forward and poked me hard in the arm. "Hey! Why do you keep teasing me like that, jeez!" she giggled, the tension completely breaking.

I stood up from the floor cushions. "Come on. I’ll show you the bedroom."

I guided her inside, grabbed a spare pillow and blanket, and tossed them onto the living room couch. When I first lay down, Claudia stood in the hallway, stubbornly pestering me to switch places with her. But after a few minutes of relentless banter, she finally gave up. She was simply too tired to fight me. The second her head hit the mattress, she was out cold.

I dragged my stiff body off the sofa and sat down at the marble kitchen island. The rich, savory smell of buttered toast and scrambled eggs instantly made my mouth water.

"Thank you for making this, Clau," I said, eagerly picking up my fork.

She smiled brightly from the other side of the counter. "Well, I raided your fridge, and this was literally the only thing I could salvage. You desperately need to fill that massive, empty fridge, Daeron."

"Meh. I prefer eating takeout anyway," I shrugged, taking a massive bite of the eggs.

She shook her head in sheer disapproval. "Sometimes I genuinely wonder about you. You are so diligent and meticulous at the café, but you are a complete disaster in your own home." She sat down on the stool next to me and began to eat her breakfast.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye as I chewed. A profound sense of relief washed over me. This was the absolute first time I had ever seen her look genuinely refreshed. Usually, beneath the café lights, she looked pale, fragile, and deeply exhausted. But sitting next to me now, I could see a vibrant, healthy flush in her cheeks. The dark circles under her eyes had softened.

She had desperately needed a proper, safe night of sleep.

**

After we finished clearing the breakfast plates, we relocated to the mini-library in the loft to officially map out our war plan.

I booted up my laptop and walked Claudia through the business model I had drafted the night before, refreshing our memory on the managerial strategy. But the second we transitioned to discussing the technical accounting details, Claudia's sheer brilliance took the wheel. She immediately began listing the exact, high-demand services we could realistically provide right out of the gate: Bookkeeping Cleanup, 1099-MISC preparation, Sales Tax Returns, and Q4 Estimated Taxes.

"We could easily offer these specific services," she explained, her dark eyes scanning the screen with sharp focus. "It's entirely possible for us since they don’t require a certified CPA license, and technically, cleaning up a single quarter's books is just a few days of actual work." She tapped her index finger against her lips. "Why did I never think about doing this independently?" she mumbled.

"So... those kinds of services are in high demand for small-scale businesses? Especially in early January?" I asked, following her logic.

She turned to me, her face lighting up with genuine excitement. "Yeah! It’s basically all the stressful stuff local owners scramble to figure out right before tax season hits. We can step in and offer our services as independent bookkeepers or freelance financial assistants."

I leaned forward, my business major instincts kicking in. "Then why not bundle those specific services together as a premium package?"

"Hmm... wait, that’s actually... a brilliant idea!" Her eyes widened.

"Yeah. It shows the business owners that we aren't just doing a task; we are offering them a comprehensive convenience," I reasoned. "Busy owners don't want to micromanage. They like simple, fast, all-in-one solutions, right?"

"Exactly! And if I build the accounting frameworks and math templates right now, we can process their messy numbers twice as fast!" Her eyes locked back onto the screen, her fingers flying flawlessly over the keyboard. "And actually... maybe we can offer them a digitization service as an upsell."

"What’s that?"

"Most small-scale, mom-and-pop businesses still do their daily bookkeeping manually on paper ledgers. If we offer to migrate their entire financial history onto a software like QuickBooks, it will modernize their business and make their lives infinitely easier." "Plus, once we migrate them to the cloud, it's incredibly easy to retain them as regular clients for monthly maintenance."

"That’s a fantastic idea, Clau!"

She smiled proudly, the exhaustion of the past year completely vanishing from her face. "So, we officially have two tiers of service: the bundled convenience package, and the digital migration service!"

I clapped my hands together. "Great! Let’s finalize the pricing right now!"

We spent the next hour documenting our exact services, drafting a professional format that clearly defined our deliverables and our service costs. Once the pricing was locked in, we started drafting the format for our legally binding B2B contracts.

Watching her work, I was genuinely amazed. Claudia was incredibly fluent with technology and complex software, maneuvering through my laptop with blinding speed despite the fact that she was too poor to even own a personal computer. She was a genius trapped in a barista's apron.

"I think that’s it!" She finally clapped her hands together, leaning back with a satisfied sigh.

"Good. Now, when do we actually launch?"

She looked at me, chewing her bottom lip. "We can start pitching right after the New Year. The timing will be perfect."

"Great!" I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the desk. My expression shifted into something deadly serious. "So. Have you already quit your jobs?"

She froze. Her gaze snapped away from me, locking nervously onto the glowing screen.

"Listen to me, Clau. If you are not one hundred percent focused on this business, it will fail. Look at me." She reluctantly met my eyes. I pointed a firm finger at the pricing sheet on the screen. "With just four days of work, we can generate a minimum of $300 from a single basic package. That is significantly more money than your weekly salary from scrubbing dishes at a restaurant!"

I clicked over to the detailed spreadsheet Andrew had sent. "And you do not need to worry about the anxiety of finding clients. Trust me. With this list right here, we will get them. I will do the dealing. I will handle the sales pitches. I just need you to focus entirely on the technical execution."

I softened my tone, making sure she knew this wasn't an order, but a plea. "I cannot close these deals alone during the client meetings, Clau. I need your expertise sitting right next to me to prove our worth. I need my partner."

She stared at me, her dark eyes wide.

"Trust yourself, Clau. You have been selling yourself horribly short just to survive. You are capable. You are so fucking smart and sharp Your brain is worth infinitely more than scrubbing restaurant floors. Stop hiding and let yourself shine!" I gave her a warm, fiercely supportive smile.

A slow, confident smile finally broke through her fear. "Alright. I’ll quit my jobs soon."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Soon?"

"Hey! I cannot just leave my employers hanging without notice! Besides, I need to speak to the restaurant owner when I quit anyway; who knows, maybe he'll be interested in hiring our new agency!" she giggled, her witty optimism returning. "But I promise you, Daeron. Right after the New Year, we are doing this together, and I will be done with those jobs."

"Perfect!"

"Sei un amante del rischio, eh?" she smirked, leaning her chin on her hand.

"Huh? What??"

She laughed out loud, a bright, beautiful sound. "Thank you again, Daeron. For absolutely everything."

"Bah, you’re thanking me way too much!" I laughed, waving my hand dismissively.

She giggled, turning her attention back to the screen. "Okay, I think we have the foundation we need. I’ll just build the spreadsheet templates later today. I need to do some more research first to make them as efficient as possible." She looked at me hesitantly. "Can I... borrow your laptop for today?"

I smiled. "Clau, that is officially our shared work laptop now. You can use it whenever you want."

"Great! Let me start researching right away!"

"Sure. I'm going to head to the kitchen. Do you want some hot chocolate and some snacks?"

She smirked over her shoulder. "Only if you aren't going to complain about me eating them later."

"Well, we’ll see about that."

We spent the entirety of Christmas Day locked in the loft, engaging in the most productive work I had done all year. Looking at her furiously typing away, a profound sense of peace settled in my chest. I was completely sure this agency was going to work out. Because for her sake, I would make it work out.