Rosa lowered her eyes.
"But you won't be humiliated."
She looked up.
"You'll leave through the staff exit with HR."
Walter had protected her.
The realization seemed to hit her harder than the firing itself.
She had treated him as if he were beneath her.
Yet when he had the power to destroy her publicly, he chose not to.
Rosa looked at him.
"I'm sorry."
Walter studied her for several seconds.
"Yes."
She swallowed.
"I was wrong."
Walter nodded.
"Yes, you were."
"I'm sorry."
Walter's expression softened slightly.
"Do better somewhere else."
Charles placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder.
"Come on."
Rosa hesitated.
Then she followed him.
As they walked away, she looked back once.
Walter was still standing there.
Not smiling.
Not celebrating.
Just standing quietly beside his son.
Richard approached.
"Mr. Brooks, I'd like to personally check you in."
Walter nodded.
"That would be appreciated."
They walked toward the reception desk.
Richard entered Walter's name.
Then stopped.
He stared at the screen.
Marcus noticed.
"What?"
Richard turned the monitor slightly.
Walter had not booked an ordinary room.
He had reserved the largest presidential suite in the hotel.
For three nights.
Richard looked at Walter.
Then at Marcus.
Then back at the screen.
The irony was almost painful.
The man Rosa had assumed couldn't afford the hotel had booked the most expensive suite in the building.
Marcus laughed softly.
Walter shook his head.
"I told you I didn't need this."
Marcus smiled.
"You never let me buy you anything."
"Because I don't need you buying things for me."
"Fine."
Marcus pointed toward the elevator.
"But you're staying in the suite."
Walter sighed.
"Fine."
As they walked toward the elevator, Marcus asked,
"Why didn't you tell her who you were?"
Walter looked at him.
"Because the moment I tell someone who my son is, I stop learning who they are."
Marcus became quiet.
Walter continued.
"She showed me who she was before she knew my name."
The elevator doors opened.
Walter stepped inside.
"That's something money can't buy."
The doors closed.
That evening, father and son sat together in the presidential suite.
The city glittered beneath them.
Walter had changed into another simple shirt.
Marcus looked at him and laughed.
"You know, Dad, this hotel has robes that cost more than that shirt."
Walter looked down.
"And somehow the shirt still works."
Marcus laughed.
Walter smiled.
For the first time that day, he seemed completely relaxed.
They ate dinner near the enormous windows.
No executives.
No managers.
No security.
Just a father and son.
After dinner, Marcus looked out over the city.
"Dad."
"Hmm?"
"Are you still upset?"
Walter thought about it.
"Not anymore."
"Why?"
"Because something good came from it."
Marcus turned.
"What?"
"Now the hotel knows what it needs to change."
Marcus smiled.
"You're always turning problems into lessons."
Walter shrugged.
"Getting angry is easy."
He looked at his son.
"Learning something is harder."
The next morning, Marcus sent a company-wide memo.