The insistent sound of his smartphone woke Eric from a heavy sleep. He blinked several times, trying to understand where he was, until he realized he had fallen asleep on top of his laptop. He had almost crushed it. The name on the screen — Mr. Foster — made his stomach drop.
His boss.
Furious, no doubt.
And with good reason: it was the second day in a row that Eric simply hadn't shown up for work.
In any other stage of his life, Eric would have answered, apologized, lied about being sick — anything to protect the miserable job that kept him alive. But now…
Now he didn't have time.
He had a million euros in gold stuffed inside a crooked wardrobe that barely closed.
The phone kept ringing. Eric turned it off.
The silence felt almost liberating.
He sat up slowly, every muscle protesting. He had pedaled for kilometers gathering coins, and though he had slept a few hours, his body was exhausted. And his mind? A whirlpool.
He looked around.
Cracked walls with mold stains.
An old, half-broken wardrobe — and inside it, enough gold to buy an entire building.
The contradiction made him laugh.
He approached the mirror.
His face looked awful: dark circles, messy hair, tired expression.
"When this is over," he muttered, "I'm spending a week at a resort."
He had never been able to afford one. He always wondered how it would feel.
And there was one near the convenience store where he worked…
He froze.
The idea hit him like lightning.
"That place… exactly that place… is perfect."
The resort was frequented by wealthy people. Filled with lawyers, business owners, contacts. But that wasn't the important part. It was the kind of environment that inspired respect — especially from a man like Foster.
And men like Foster only respected two things:
Money and lawyers.
Eric smiled, a smile full of purpose.
"Then I'll hire one."
He grabbed a few gold coins, put them in a bag, and called a taxi.
The New Lawyer
The taxi drove several kilometers and dropped him near the convenience store where he had worked. Eric didn't go near it — instead, he sat on a bench facing the beach.
The tourists who once made him feel miserable now gave him a strange sense of comfort.
Maybe he was finally letting go of comparing himself to the rest of the world.
That was when someone caught his eye.
A young blonde woman, wearing professional but wrinkled clothes, walked toward him. Angelic face, golden hair, blue eyes — and clearly nervous.
Eric almost choked.
She looked like she had stepped out of a perfume commercial.
Then he remembered the name sent by message:
Lúcia Herrera — Lawyer.
He slapped his own cheek lightly so he wouldn't stare like an idiot.
"You're Lúcia Herrera?" he asked. "I thought you'd be older. Don't tell me you just finished law school…"
Her face turned red instantly.
It was true.
It all made sense: that's why she was the only young lawyer without a photo in the advertisement — probably afraid her age would hurt her credibility. It also explained why she had accepted to meet a stranger with such an odd request on such short notice.
"Do you even know what you're doing?" Eric asked, trying to confirm whether she was actually competent.
Lúcia crossed her arms, offended.
"And do you have money to pay a lawyer on such short notice?"
Eric smiled.
Silently, he took three gold coins from his pocket and placed them in her hand.
The reaction was immediate.
She froze.
"This is… gold? What does this mean?" she stammered.
"One is for your work," Eric explained calmly.
"The second is for the purchase contract you drafted.
And the third is a tip for coming all the way here."
Lúcia blinked several times, as if trying to wake up.
"Who are you? Are you insane?"
"Possibly," Eric said, extending his hand. "My document?"
She opened her bag quickly — almost spilling everything — and pulled out several carefully stapled pages. Eric skimmed through them, returned the papers, and nodded:
"The document is perfect."
"I wrote exactly what you asked," she replied. "But… payment in gold coins? I still don't understand why that bizarre preference."
"It doesn't matter," Eric said. "Now you will go to the store and make the offer to my former boss."
Her eyes widened.
"Me? Why would I do that? I came only to deliver the contract."
Eric reached into his pocket again.
He pulled out seven more gold coins.
He placed them all in her hand.
"Because starting today, you're my personal lawyer."
Lúcia went pale.
She looked at him, then at the coins.
Then back at him.
"I'll take that as a yes," Eric said with a smile. "Let's go."
In a daze, Lúcia followed him to the store entrance.
The Meeting with the Boss
As soon as they entered, Mr. Foster shot up from his chair behind the counter, red with fury.
"YOU LAZY BUM! HOW DARE YOU COME BA—"
Before he could charge at Eric, Lúcia stepped in front of him, lifting her folder like a shield.
"My client is here to negotiate," she said firmly. "Not to be insulted."
"Client?!" Foster repeated. "Negotiate what?"
Eric stepped forward, calmly adjusting the collar of his black shirt.
"I want to buy your store."
Silence lasted exactly three seconds.
And then Foster — the same arrogant, petty, greedy boss who had humiliated him for so long — burst into a laugh so loud it echoed through the entire store.
The poor employee he had mistreated for years…
Standing there, saying he wanted to buy the man's business?
Absurdly hilarious.