Employee development.
Guest accessibility.
Community programs.
And the future.
But before leaving, Samuel asked Adrian to walk with him.
They stopped beside the old photograph.
"Do you remember the first night you saw this?"
Adrian nodded.
"I remember."
"What did you think?"
"I thought I had made a terrible mistake."
Samuel smiled.
"You had."
Adrian laughed.
"Thank you for reminding me."
Samuel looked at the photograph.
"But that mistake changed you."
"Yes."
"Then perhaps it was worth making."
Adrian looked at him.
"Would you say that again?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want you making another one."
They laughed.
Then Samuel became serious.
"Adrian."
"Yes?"
"If you ever forget what happened that night, look at this photograph."
"I will."
"Not because I'm the founder."
Adrian nodded.
"But because I'm the man you almost sent away."
Samuel extended his hand.
Adrian shook it.
The founder's hand was thin and aged.
But his grip was strong.
Years later, the photograph was still hanging in the lobby.
The Grand Meridian had changed many times.
The carpets had been replaced.
The lobby had been renovated.
New technology had been installed.
The elevators had been modernized.
New employees had arrived.
Old employees had retired.
But the photograph remained.
Every morning, sunlight passed through the tall glass windows and illuminated the frame.
Guests often stopped to look at it.
Some recognized Samuel.
Others didn't.
One afternoon, a young employee named Marcus stood beneath the photograph.
He had worked at the hotel for only three days.
He looked at the plaque.
Then at the picture.
A senior receptionist noticed him.
"That's Samuel Whitmore."
"The founder?"
"Yes."
Marcus studied the image.
"He looks so young."
"He was."
"What happened to him?"
"He still visits sometimes."
Marcus smiled.
"Really?"
Chương 7
"Usually when it's raining."
Marcus laughed.
"Why?"
The receptionist looked toward the lobby entrance.
"Long story."
At that moment, the revolving doors opened.
Rain blew across the entrance.
An elderly Black man stepped inside.
He wore a brown coat.
He pulled an old leather suitcase behind him.
Marcus looked at the man.
Then at the photograph.
His eyes widened.
"Is that—"
The receptionist smiled.
"Yes."
Samuel Whitmore had returned.
Marcus hurried toward him.
"Mr. Whitmore?"
Samuel looked up.
"Yes?"
"Welcome to the Grand Meridian."
Samuel smiled.
"Thank you."
Marcus reached for the suitcase.
"May I help you with that?"
Samuel looked at the battered case.
"You know, I think I've been carrying this thing longer than you've been alive."
Marcus laughed.
"I'll still carry it."
Samuel released the handle.
"Thank you."
Marcus looked at the wet floor.
"Would you like a towel for your coat?"
Samuel smiled.
"That would be wonderful."
Marcus nodded.
"Is there anyone you're meeting?"
"Yes."
"Shall I call them?"
"Please."
Marcus turned toward the desk.
Samuel watched him walk away.
Then he looked at the photograph.
For a moment, he saw himself as he had been forty-three years earlier.
Young.
Ambitious.
Uncertain.